dissolving by an imperial decree the marriage of his brother, and by
causing him soon after to marry a princess of Wurtemberg. The disagreement
with the Court of Rome, which was soon to break forth, depended on his
all-powerful will, and caused him no care. In the movement of the troops,
necessitated in October, 1805, by his campaign against Austria, the
emperor had charged General Gouvion St. Cyr to traverse the States of the
Church in order to take up a position in Lombardy. Upon the route lay the
town of Ancona. The French troops received an order to seize the place and
establish a garrison there, an order which was immediately executed.
In spite of the difficulties which had recently arisen between the emperor
and himself, the Pope thought that Napoleon and the French Revolution were
much indebted to him personally. Europe took this view, and frequent
reproaches had been addressed to the Court of Rome by the powers who were
enemies or rivals of France. It was, then, with astonishment, mingled with
indignation, that Pius VII. learnt the news of the occupation of Ancona;
he wrote, on the 13th November, 1805, a personal and secret letter to the
emperor:--"We avow frankly to your Majesty the keen chagrin that we
experience in seeing ourselves treated in a way that we do not think we
have in any degree merited. Our neutrality has been recognized by your
Majesty, as by all other powers. The latter have fully respected it, and
we had especial motives for thinking that the sentiments of amity which
your Majesty professed with regard to us would have preserved us from such
a cruel affront. We will tell you frankly, since our return from Paris we
have experienced only bitterness and trouble, and we do not find in your
Majesty a return of those sentiments which we think ourselves warranted in
justly expecting from you. That which we owe to ourselves is to ask from
your Majesty the evacuation of Ancona, and, if met with a refusal, we
should not see how to reconcile therewith a continuation of a good
understanding with the French minister."
It was from Munich, on the morrow of the battle of Austerlitz and of the
peace of Presburg, that Napoleon at length responded, on the 7th of
January, 1806, to the letter of the Pope, in the midst of the concert of
adulations and transports which were lavished on him by the vanquished as
well as by his courtiers. The protest of Pius VII. recalled to him the
disagreeable remembrance of an independent authority, and one which he had
not been always able to submit to his will; the anger of the despot broke
forth with violence at once spontaneous and measured: "Your Holiness
complains that since your return from Paris you have had nothing but
causes of sorrow. The reason is, that since then all those who were
fearing my power and testifying their friendship have changed their
sentiments, thinking themselves authorized to do so by the power of the
coalition; and that since the return of your Holiness to Rome I have
experienced nothing but refusals to all my designs, even those that were
of the utmost importance to religion; as, for example, when it was a
question of hindering Protestantism from raising its head in France. I
look upon myself as the protector of the Holy See, and by this title I
have occupied Ancona. I look upon myself, like my predecessors of the
second and third dynasty, as the eldest son of the Church, as alone
bearing the sword to protect it and to shelter it from being defiled by
Greeks and Mussulmans. I should ever be the friend of your Holiness, if
you would only consult your heart and the true friends of religion. If
your Holiness wishes to send away my minister, you are free to do so. You
are free to receive in preference the English and the Caliph of
Constantinople. God is the judge who has done most for the religion of all
the princes who reign."
Napoleon had excluded his brother Jerome from the succession to the
Empire, but he affected to dread for France the possibility of a
Protestant sovereign. It was with an increase of coarse violence that he
wrote on the same day to his uncle, Cardinal Fesch: "Since these imbeciles
think there will be no inconvenience in a Protestant occupying the throne
of France, I will send them a Protestant ambassador. I am religious, but I
am not a bigot. Constantine separated the civil from the military, and I
also may appoint a senator to command in my name at Rome. Tell Consalvi--
tell even the Pope himself--that since he wishes to drive my minister from
Rome, I should be well able to re-establish him there. For the Pope, I am
Charlemagne, because, like Charlemagne, I unite the crown of France with
that of the Lombards, and my empire borders on that of the East. I expect
then that his conduct towards me shall be regulated from this point of
view. Otherwise I shall reduce the Pope to the position of Bishop of
Rome."
The French troops did not evacuate Ancona, and the French minister
remained at Rome. But soon new subjects of disagreement arose between
Napoleon and the Pope, always a scrupulous observer of the neutrality
which he thought due from him to all the powers. The emperor had already
required that all the ports of his allies should be closed against English
commerce; in proportion as his enemies became more numerous and his
arbitrary power more oppressive, he extended his pretensions even over the
countries neutral by situation and by state obligations. Joseph Bonaparte
had just been proclaimed King of Naples; the house of Bourbon occupied in
Italy only the ridiculous throne of Etruria, already on the point of being
taken from them. Napoleon wished to exact from the Pope an interdiction of
his ports and his territory to the exiles or the refugees who had from
time immemorial been accustomed to seek an asylum in Rome. "Your Holiness
would be able to avoid all these embarrassments by going forward in a
straight road," wrote Napoleon to Pius VII., on February 22, 1806. "All
Italy will be subject to my laws. I will not touch in any way the
independence of the Holy See; I will even repay it for the injuries which
the movements of my armies may occasion to it; but it must be on the
condition that your Holiness will show the same regard for me in temporal
affairs as I show for you in spiritual ones, and that you will cease your
useless consideration for the heretical enemies of the Church, and for the
powers who can do nothing for you. Your Holiness is sovereign of Rome, but
I am its emperor. All my enemies ought to be yours. It is not proper then
that any agent of the King of Sardinia, any Englishman, Russian, or Swede,
should reside at Rome or in your states, neither that any ship belonging
to these powers should enter your ports. Those who speak any other
language to your Holiness deceive you, and will end by drawing down upon
you misfortunes that will be disastrous." He added in his letter to
Cardinal Fesch: "Say plainly that I have my eyes open, that I am not
deceived any more than I choose to be; that I am Charlemagne, the sword of
the Church, the emperor; and that they ought not to know that there is an
empire of Russia. I make the Pope acquainted with my intentions in a few
words. If he does not agree, I shall reduce him to the same position which
he occupied before Charlemagne."
It was against Cardinal Consalvi, formerly the clever and firm negotiator
of the Concordat, that the emperor, assisted by Cardinal Fesch, nursed his
suspicions and his anger; he regarded him as systematically hostile to
France; but the attachment of the Pope for his minister remained
unshakable; it was from Consalvi alone that a voluntary submission might
be hoped for. "If he loves his religion and his country, tell Consalvi,
plainly," wrote the emperor to his uncle, "that there are only two courses
to select from--either to do always what I wish, or to quit the ministry."
The moderation and prudent resolutions of the Roman ministry showed itself
in the response of the Pope to the requirements of Napoleon. Already an
obscure Englishman--Mr. Jackson, for a long time accredited to the King of
Sardinia--had excited the mistrust of Napoleon, who insulted him in
official documents. "An English minister, the disgrace of his country,
found in Rome an asylum. There he organized conspiracies, subsidized
brigands, hatched perfidies, bribed assassins; and Rome protected the
traitor and his agents--becoming a theatre of scandal, a manufactory of
libels, and an asylum of brigandage." The only crime of Jackson had been
to keep his court _au courant_ with the state of affairs in Rome. Quietly,
and with all the respect his character merited, Cardinal Consalvi
prevailed on Mr. Jackson to quit Rome. The cardinals were assembled in
secret Consistory. Cardinal Fesch was not summoned; he was informed that
they were aware of his opinions, and that his station as ambassador
disqualified him for the Council of the holy father.
The Consistory did not deceive itself for a single instant as to the
consequences that the concessions demanded by Napoleon would forcibly draw
in their train. "We all saw," says Cardinal Consalvi in his memoirs, "that
far from admitting the neutrality of the Holy See, Bonaparte expected it
in the capacity of feudatory and vassal to take up the quarrels of France
in no matter what war the latter might subsequently be engaged. The Holy
See might then see itself, any morning or evening, attacked by Austria or
Spain, or by all the Catholic or non-Catholic powers. What! the sole
ambition or greed of France was to have the right of despoiling the holy
father of his title of the common father of the faithful, and of
compelling the representative of a God of Peace and the head of the
religious world, to sow everywhere desolation and ruin, by keeping in a
perpetual state of war the nations owing fealty to the tiara."
So many reasons, human and divine, as evident to common sense as to
conscience, decided the response of the Pope. He was moderate, tender,
prudent; but he replied categorically to the requirements of the emperor.
Pius VII wished to remain neuter, and not to drive from his states the
English or the Russians; he did not admit the claim of the emperor to
exercise over Rome a supreme protectorate. "The Pope does not recognize,
and never has recognized, any power superior to himself. Your Majesty is
infinitely great; you have been elected, crowned, consecrated, recognized
emperor of the French, but not emperor of Rome. There exists no emperor of
Rome."
There was a good deal of boldness in repelling so haughtily the imperial
pretensions; the Pope and Cardinal Consalvi were soon involved in a still
more dangerous course. The accession of the new King of Naples had been
announced to the court of Rome, by Cardinal Fesch, in arrogant terms: "The
throne of Naples being vacant by a penalty incurred by the most scandalous
perfidy of which the annals of nations have ever made mention, and his
Majesty having found himself under the necessity of shielding this
country, and the whole of Italy, from the madness of an insensate court,
has judged it suitable to his dignity to confide the destinies of this
country, which he loves, to a prince of his own house. The undersigned
doubts not but that the Pontifical Government will see in this happy event
a new guarantee of the system of order, justice, and consistency, which he
has always had at heart to establish in all the places which have
submitted to his influence."
To this circuitous demand for the recognition of Joseph Bonaparte, the
Pope replied by urging his ancient feudal rights over the kingdom of
Naples--"agreements," said Cardinal Consalvi, "which have always been
observed, especially in the case of conquests; not only at the
establishment of a new dynasty, but also at the commencement of each new
reign."
It was going very far back into history to reclaim doubtful rights.
Napoleon keenly criticised the pretension: "His Majesty needs to make no
researches to become aware of the fact that in times of ignorance the
court of Rome usurped the right of giving away crowns and temporal rights
to the princes of the earth; but if we found that in other ages the court
at Rome dethroned sovereigns, preached crusades, and laid entire kingdoms
under interdict, we should also discover that the Popes have always
considered their temporal power as springing from the French emperors; and
the court of Rome, without doubt, does not claim that Charlemagne received
from it the investiture of his kingdom. If this is to go on," added
Napoleon, brusquely abandoning his historic researches, "I shall cause
Consalvi to quit Rome, and make him responsible for what he is trying to
do, because he is evidently bought by the English. He will see whether or
not I have the power to maintain my imperial crown. Lay stress on that
word _imperial_, and not royal, and upon the fact that the relations of
the Pope with me must be those of his predecessors with the emperors of
the west." [Footnote: Draft of a note sent to Talleyrand by the emperor.]
At the same time, and as the thunder follows the lightning, the court of
Rome learnt that the threat had been followed by performance. Upon the
express order of the Emperor Napoleon, Civita Vecchia had been occupied by
two regiments of the Neapolitan army. The districts of Benevento and
Ponte-Corvo, surrounded by the kingdom of Naples, and belonging to the
Holy See, were erected into principalities in favor of Talleyrand and
Marshal Bernadotte. Cardinal Fesch was recalled. He quitted Rome after a
warm altercation with the Pope. A few days later, and in the vain hope of
ameliorating political relations becoming more and more difficult,
Cardinal Consalvi gave in his resignation. He wrote to Cardinal Caprara,
perpetual papal legate at Paris and completely subject to the imperial
authority: "If any one had told me when I was negotiating the Concordat
that in a short time I should appear to the French Government in the light
of an enemy, I should have thought I was dreaming. But I am too much
attached to the Holy See, to my sovereign, to my benefactor, and to my
country, not to consider myself as compelled to dispel by my retirement
the evils which might result from my presence. His Holiness consents to my
resignation. His object has been to satisfy the emperor, and give him a
proof of his desire to preserve harmony with his government by removing
everything that might compromise it."
The sacrifice of Cardinal Consalvi was useless, and passed unnoticed.
Napoleon required from the Holy See not only submission to his will, but
the acceptance of his principles. The caution of the court of Rome
irritated him more and more. He frightened Cardinal Caprara with a violent
scene: "Write that I demand from his Holiness a declaration without
ambiguity, stating that during the present war, and any other future war,
all the ports of the pontifical states shall be closed to all English
vessels, either of war or commerce. Without this I shall cause all the
rest of the pontifical states to be occupied, I will have the eagles fixed
up over the gates of all its cities and domains, and, as I have done for
Benevento and Ponte Corvo, I shall divide the provinces possessed by the
Pope into so many duchies and principalities, which I shall confer upon
whomsoever I please. If the Pope persists in his refusal, I will establish
a senate at Rome; and when once Rome and the pontifical states shall be in
my hands, they will never be out of them again." Already the revenues of
Civita Vecchia had been seized by Generals Lemarrois and Duhesme. "By what
right do you do this?" demanded an employé of the pontifical treasury.
"You serve a little prince and I serve a great sovereign," replied the
officer; "in that you can see all my right." Such was throughout Europe
the foundation of the right of the Emperor Napoleon. The governor of
Civita Vecchia, Mgr. Negreta, had been seized by force in his residence,
and sent back to Rome without an escort. Personal communication no longer
existed between the Pope and the emperor. The letter of Pius VII., sent by
the hands of Cardinal Caprara, remained unanswered. Alquier alone, who had
succeeded Cardinal Fesch at Rome, still informed Napoleon as to the state
of feeling there. An old Conventional, intelligent and moderate, the
Minister of France, reported to Talleyrand, then Minister of Foreign
Affairs, "People are strangely mistaken as to the character of the
sovereign pontiff, if they have thought his apparent flexibility was
yielding to all that they were striving to impress upon him. In all that
pertains to the authority of the head of the Church, he takes counsel with
himself alone. The Pope has a mild character, but very irritable, and
susceptible of displaying a firmness proof against any trial; already they
are openly saying, 'If the emperor overturns us, his successor will re-
establish us.'"
On the morrow of the battle of Jena, when the ruin of the Prussian
monarchy had added new lustre to the splendor of Napoleon's victories, the
emperor wished to make one last effort in order to establish an absolute
dominion over that little corner of Italy which still preserved an
independent sovereignty. For more than a year he had not accepted any
direct communication with the court of Rome: he commanded the attendance
of Mgr. Arezzo, Bishop _in partibus_ of Seleucia, formerly papal nuncio in
Russia, and who then happened to be at Dresden. The prelate was admitted
to the emperor at Berlin, in the cabinet of the great Frederick: he has
preserved a textual account of his conversation with Napoleon. "What did
you have to do with Russia?" "Your Majesty is aware that there are in
Russia 4,000,000 of Catholics. It is for that reason that the Pope
maintains a representative there." "The Pope ought not to have a minister
at St. Petersburg; the Greeks have always been the enemies of Rome, and I
do not know by what spirit of madness Rome can be possessed to desire the
good of its enemies rather than of its friends. You are about to quit
Dresden, and repair to Rome. You are my enemy. In the first place, you are
not a Sicilian for nothing. I do not mean by that that you have spoken
abusively of me, but you have desired that I should come to nothing, that
my armies should be beaten, and that my enemies should triumph. You are
not the only one to wish me evil; at Rome people think no better than
elsewhere. The Pope is a holy man, whom they make believe whatever they
please. They represent my demands to him under a false aspect, as Cardinal
Consalvi has done, and then the good Pope is roused up to say that he will
be killed rather than yield. Who thinks of killing him, _bon Dieu_? If he
will not take the course I wish, I will certainly deprive him of his
temporal power at Rome, but I shall always respect him as the head of the
Church. There is no necessity that the Pope should be sovereign of Rome.
The most holy Popes were not so. I shall secure him a good appanage of
three millions, upon which he can properly keep up his position; and I
shall place at Rome a king or a senator, and I shall divide his states
into so many duchies. In reality, the main point of the matter is, that I
wish the Pope to accede to the confederation; I expect him to be the
friend of my friends, and the enemy of my enemies. In fifteen days you
will be at Rome, and will peremptorily signify this to him." "Your Majesty
will permit me to repeat to him that which has been already said to him so
many times: that the Pope, being the common father of the faithful, cannot
separate himself from some to attach himself to others; and his ministry
being a ministry of peace, he cannot make war against anybody, nor declare
himself the enemy of any one whatever without failing in his duties and
compromising his sacred character." "But I do not claim at all that he
should make war against anybody. I wish him to shut his ports against the
English, and that he should not receive them into his states, and that not
being able to defend his ports and fortresses he should permit me to
defend them. Rest assured that at Rome they have lost their heads. They
have no longer there the great men of the time of Leo X. Ganganelli would
not have conducted himself in this style. I wish to be in safety in my own
house. The whole of Italy belongs to me by right of conquest. Let the Pope
do what I wish, and he will be recompensed for the past and for the
future. I only forewarn you that all must be completed before the 1st of
January: if the Pope will consent, he will lose nothing; if he will
refuse, then I shall take away his states. Excommunications are no longer
in fashion, and my soldiers will not refuse to march wherever I send them.
Call to mind Charles V., who kept the Pope prisoner, and who made him
recite prayers for him at Madrid. I shall take the same course if I am
brought to bay."
Mgr. Arezzo having asked for some prolongation of the delay: "Ah well! I
give you till February," replied the emperor; "but let everything be
finished before February." "And where will it be necessary to send the
ambassador of the Pope? to Berlin, to Warsaw, to St. Petersburg? Your
Majesty moves so quickly!" Napoleon began to laugh. "No, to Paris," said
he.
It was in fact at Paris, in the month of October, 1807, when the victory
of Friedland had delivered Russia, like Prussia, to the influence of
Napoleon, that the envoy of the Pope succeeded in obtaining an audience--
not of the emperor, but of Champagny, his new Minister of Foreign Affairs.
New difficulties had aggravated the bitterness of the relations between
France and Rome. Pius VII., however, had perceived that the requirements
of the emperor, so absolute in their harshness, would not yield to his
moderate and passive resistance. He had authorized his French
representative, the Cardinal de Bayanne, to make an important concession.
"The last demands of his Imperial Majesty," wrote Cardinal Casoni,
Minister of State, on the 14th of October, "are limited as regards the
English to the closure of the ports. The holy father has every reason to
think that his adherence ought to be limited to this closure; but if
anything else is required of him he will consent to it, provided that it
does not compel him to engage in actual war, and that it does not injure
the independence of the pontifical sovereignty. It will he desirable then
that your Eminence and the cardinal legate, to whom this despatch is
common, should be on your guard, to concert the explanation and import of
these words in order to satisfy his Imperial Majesty as the holy father
desires, but at the same time not to impose upon his Holiness an
obligation opposed to his duties and his honor."
This was a good deal to grant, and it curtailed considerably the formal
declarations of neutrality so often repeated by the court of Rome.
Napoleon required still more, and his secret thoughts were not in accord
with his public declarations. The obstacles to the free choice of an
ambassador; the requirements with regard to the full powers which were to
be conferred on Cardinal de Bayanne; the forcible hindrance to the journey
of the latter, arbitrarily detained at Milan; the systematic neglect of
his requests for an audience--clearly proved the decision taken to obtain
all or nothing--to subjugate or break the pontifical power. The last
offers of the Pope fully satisfied the demands of the emperor, as
expressed by Cardinal Fesch, Talleyrand, and Napoleon himself again and
again. Champagny declared that these concessions were no longer
sufficient. The Pope was to engage himself to make common cause with the
Emperor Napoleon, and to unite his land and sea forces with those of
France in all wars against England. The ports closed against the English;
the care of the ports of Ostia, Ancona, and Civita Vecchia confided to
France; 2000 men of the French troops maintained at Ancona at the cost of
the Holy See; and concessions without reserve on the subject of the number
of French cardinals, as of the consecration of Italian bishops--such were
the conditions of the convention presented to the Cardinal de Bayanne by
Champagny. A few other articles, treating of the spiritual power, and
which had been abandoned at the request of Cardinal Fesch, remained as a
menace suspended over the head of the negotiator, in case his submission
should not be sufficiently prompt and complete. General Lemarrois had
already taken possession of the duchy of Urbino, of the province of
Macerata, of Fermo, and Spoleto. The Cardinal de Bayanne was still
negotiating, but the order for his recall had been sent from Rome (9th of
November, 1807). "God and the world will do us justice against the
proceedings of the emperor, let them be what they may," wrote Pius VII.
The exactions of Champagny had heaped up a measure which was already
overflowing. In full Consistory, and without any hesitation on the part of
either Pope or cardinals, the proposals were unanimously rejected. "This
is the fruit of our journey to Paris, of our patience, of the forbearance
which has led us to make so many sacrifices, to suffer so many
humiliations. If such pretensions are persisted in, you must immediately
demand your passport, and come away." Such were the instructions sent on
the 2nd of December to the Cardinal de Bayanne by the holy father. The
orders sent by the emperor to his agents did not wait long for a response.
Already for some time past very considerable forces had been grouped to
the north and south of the pontifical states, under the orders of General
Miollis. Six thousand Frenchmen were destined for this expedition. A
Neapolitan column of 3000 men was to occupy Terracina. All the movements
of the troops had been carefully calculated and foreseen; the care of
watching over their execution was confided to Prince Eugène and the King
of Naples. The emperor wrote to Champagny on the 22nd of January, 1808:
"On the 25th of January the French army will be at Perugia; on the 3rd of
February it will be at Rome. The express, setting out on the 25th, will
arrive at Rome on the 1st of February, and will thus carry your orders to
Signer Alquier two days before the troops arrive. You ought to make known
to Signer Alquier that General Miollis, who commands my troops, and who
appears to be directing his course towards Naples, will stay at Rome and
take possession of the castle of St. Angelo. When Signer Alquier shall
become aware that the troops are at the gate of Rome, he shall present to
the Cardinal Secretary of State the subjoined note: 'The arrival of
General Miollis has for its aim the protection of the rearguard of the
army of Naples. On his way, he presents himself at Rome to give force to
the measures which the emperor has resolved on taking to purge this city
of the scoundrels to whom it has given asylum, and consequently to all the
enemies of France.' You will put in cipher in your despatch the following
paragraph: 'The intention of the emperor is to accustom by this note, and
by these proceedings, the people of Rome and the French troops to live
together, in order that if the court of Rome should continue to show
itself as insensate as it now is, it might insensibly cease to exist as a
temporal power without any notice being taken of it.' Nevertheless, whilst
desiring to avoid disturbance, and to leave things _in statu quo_, I am
prepared to take strong measures the first time the Pope indulges in any
bull or manifesto; for a decree shall be immediately published, revoking
the gift of Charlemagne, and reuniting the states of the Church to the
kingdom of Italy, furnishing proofs of the evils that religion has
suffered through the sovereignty of Rome, and making apparent the contrast
between Jesus Christ dying on the cross and His successor making himself a
king!"
It was not without a certain uneasiness that the emperor was preparing
thus to use violence against an unarmed sovereign, and historical decrees
were not the only arms on which he expected to rely. "The slightest
insurrection that may break out," wrote he to Prince Eugène (February 7th,
1808), "must be repressed with grape-shot, if necessary, and severe
examples must be made."
No insurrection broke out; the Pope and his followers had resolved upon
giving to the world a startling demonstration of the material
powerlessness of the Holy See in presence of brute force. Whilst General
Miollis was entering Rome, on February 2nd, 1808, at eight o'clock in the
morning, disarming the pontifical troops in order to seize upon the Castle
of St. Angelo, the Pope was officiating in the chapel of the Quirinal,
surrounded by the Sacred College. The palace was invested by the troops,
and cannon were pointed at the walls; the cardinals went forth without
tumult or protest. The French officers were not a little surprised to see
them get into their carriages and retire without letting any trace of
annoyance be visible on their countenances. [Footnote: Memoirs of Cardinal
Pacca.]
Only a protest by the holy father, conceived in the most moderate terms,
was affixed to the walls of Rome: "Not having been able to comply with all
the demands which have been made to him on the part of the French
Government, because the voice of his conscience and his sacred duties
forbade it, his Holiness Pius VII. has believed it his duty to submit to
the disastrous consequences with which he has been threatened as the
result of his refusal, and even the military occupation of his capital.
Resigned in the humility of his heart to the unsearchable judgments of
heaven, he commits his cause into the hands of God; but at the same time,
unwilling to fail in his essential obligations to guarantee the rights of
his sovereignty, he has given orders to protest, as he protests daily,
against every usurpation of his dominions, his will being that the rights
of the Holy See should be and remain always intact."
The times of supreme violence had not yet come, and the emperor himself
had not perhaps foreseen to what extremities he would be led, by the
aggression he had just committed, and the underhand struggle he had been
maintaining for three years against the conscientious will of an unarmed
old man. However, the habitual roughness of his arbitrary proceedings did
not fail to manifest themselves from the beginning. Champagny had been
ordered to declare to the Cardinal de Bayanne that the French soldiers
established at Rome would remain there until the Pope should have entered
into the Italian Confederation, and should have consented to make common
cause with the powers composing it, in every case and against all enemies.
"This condition is the _sine qua non_ of his Majesty's proposal. If the
Pope does not accept it, his Majesty will not know how to recognize his
temporal sovereignty. He has decided to transfer the power of Rome into
secular hands."
At the same time, and as a necessary commentary on these imperious
injunctions, the foreign cardinals in the pontifical states received
orders from Napoleon to quit Rome. The Neapolitan cardinals, to the number
of seven, had up to that time refused to take an oath to King Joseph. At
the first news of the measure which threatened them, the Pope ordered them
to remain near himself, "for the service of the Holy See;" they were
seized in their houses, and conducted to the frontiers of the kingdom of
Naples by gendarmes. On March 10th the same order was addressed by the
emperor to the vice-King of Italy for fourteen new members of the Sacred
College. "Let Litta return to Milan; let the Genoese return to Genoa, the
Italians to the kingdom of Italy, the Piedmontese to Piedmont, the
Neapolitans to Naples. This measure is to be executed by fair means or
foul. Since it is the cardinals who have lost the states of the Church by
their evil counsels, let them return every one to his own place." Cardinal
Casoni, till recently Secretary of State to the Pope, and Cardinal Doria
Pamphili, now officiating--the one born at Sarzana, the other a Genoese--
were prevented by this interdiction from living in the Roman States.
Alquier, the minister of France, was quietly recalled to Paris; a simple
secretary of legation remained at Rome to represent the diplomatic
service. General Miollis well seconded the intentions of the emperor with
regard to the Holy See. Against the advice of his counsellors, the Pope
sent to Cardinal Caprara an order to quit Paris. "Violence has been
resorted to," wrote Pius VII. to his easygoing legate, "even to laying
hands on four of our cardinals and conducting them to Naples in the midst
of an armed force; an excess which only requires the violation of our own
personal freedom for the scandal to be complete. We cannot, by the
residence of our representative with the French Government, give occasion
for thinking any longer that we are not deeply wounded by the persecution
we have been made to suffer, and the oppression manifested towards the
Holy See. Our intention is, then, if our capital is not without delay
evacuated by the French troops, that you should demand your passports, and
that you should set out with the Cardinal de Bayanne, our legate
extraordinary, in order to come and share with us and your brothers the
lot which is reserved for us."
I wished to tell in some detail the relations of Napoleon with the court
of Rome, because they clearly point out the first steps decidedly taken
along a path that grew more and more daring. Conquest had for a long time
borne its bitter fruits. Conquered sovereigns had submitted to the yoke
and to the haughty requirements of the conqueror; such was the absolute
right of victory, and those who suffered from it recognized a power which
in all time had belonged to the conqueror. The emperor henceforth went
much further than this; he did not confine himself to fighting,
conquering, and dispossessing those he had vanquished, and dividing their
spoils. He began at Rome to impose his arbitrary caprices upon a prince
who had never taken up arms against him. At the same time, and by a
manoeuvre concocted in the most masterly manner, and yet most inexcusable,
he was about to dethrone a king, his ally, humbly submissive to his power
and his exactions. The throne of Spain was the only one still occupied by
a prince of the house of Bourbon. Napoleon had resolved upon seating a
Bonaparte upon it. Already the troops destined for this enterprise were
quitting Paris, marching, without knowing it, towards long disasters.
Yielding to the irresistible impulses of absolute power without limits and
without a curb, Napoleon was led into having recourse to every description
of violence, and making use of every kind of perfidy. He wished to be
everywhere and always obeyed. For six years past no one had resisted his
will without being crushed; he was at last about to meet with a check--at
Rome, in the conscience of the Pope; in Spain, in the passions of an
aroused people.
The situation of Spain had for a long time been sad and wretched. Governed
by a favorite, whose crimes he ignored, King Charles IV. had abandoned
power into the hands of the Prince de la Paix. At his side, and in a
condition of suspicion which resembled captivity, the heir to the throne,
Ferdinand, Prince of Asturias, had become the idol of the people, as a
consequence of the scorn and aversion inspired by the favorite. The young
prince, weak and cunning, submissive in his turn to his old tutor, the
Canon Escoiquiz, was carrying on underhand intrigues with a few great
lords who were devoted to him. He had attached to himself Beauharnais, the
ambassador of France, an upright and sincere man, with no great political
penetration. The little council of the prince had thought themselves
capable of concluding an alliance between Ferdinand and the all-powerful
sovereign of France. On the 11th of October, 1807, the Prince of Asturias
sent by Beauharnais a letter addressed to the "hero who threw into the
shade all those who had preceded him;" Ferdinand solicited the hand of a
princess of the imperial house.
It was the moment of the negotiation of the treaty of Fontainebleau and
the anticipated partition of Portugal. On the same day on which the
signatures were exchanged (October 27th, 1807) the Prince of Asturias, for
a long time suspected of criminal intrigues, was arrested at Madrid, as
well as his accomplices. On the 29th, King Charles IV. wrote to the
emperor, in order to make him acquainted with the sad discovery which had
just wounded all his paternal sentiments. "I pray your Majesty," added the
unfortunate monarch, "to aid me with your knowledge and advice."
The troops that were to enter Spain were ready, and the first movement of
Napoleon was to march them forward immediately. The trouble existing in
the royal house afforded a ready excuse for an intervention entreated at
once by both father and son. The King of Spain himself invoked assistance.
The army of the Gironde was immediately reinforced and provisioned. A
second corps was already preparing, but the Prince de la Paix discovered
in the correspondence of Ferdinand the proof of his relations with
Beauharnais. He did not wish to compromise his principality of Algarve by
exciting the anger of Napoleon: the Prince of Asturias was exempted from
the law, and his pardon solemnly proclaimed in an official decree by
Charles IV. Only his accomplices were prosecuted, but the tribunals
acquitted them. Meanwhile the army of the Gironde, under General Dupont,
had entered Spain. The corps for watching the sea coasts, commanded by
Marshal Moncey, followed in the same direction. Other detachments seized
upon the fortresses of the frontiers. "On arriving at Pampeluna, General
Duhesme will take possession of the town," wrote the emperor to General
Clarke, Minister of War (January 28th, 1808), "and without making any show
he will occupy the citadel and the fortifications, treating the
commandants and the inhabitants with the greatest courtesy, making no
movement, and saying that he is expecting further orders."
The orders were not long in arriving; 100,000 men of the grand army were
effecting a backward movement, approaching France, and consequently Spain.
At the same time, Joachim Murat, the living hero of hazardous and doubtful
enterprises, had just been appointed general-in-chief of the armies in
Spain. His instructions were all military. "Do not disturb in any manner
the division of Duhesme," wrote the emperor to his lieutenant, on the 16th
of March, 1808; "leave that where it is. It guards Barcelona and holds
that province, and fulfils its purpose sufficiently. When the 3000 men of
the reinforcement who are about to rejoin this division, and who will be
at Barcelona towards the 5th or 6th of April, shall have arrived, it will
be another thing. Then he will have an army capable of carrying him
anywhere. At the moment when you receive this letter, the head of General
Verdier's corps will touch the borders of Spain, and General Merle ought
to find himself at Burgos. Continue to speak smooth words. Reassure the
king, the Prince de la Paix, the Prince of Asturias, and the queen. The
great thing is to arrive at Madrid, and there let your troops rest, and
replenish their stores of provisions. Say that I am soon coming in order
to reconcile and arrange matters; above all, do not commit any
hostilities, if it can possibly be helped. I hope that everything may be
arranged, and it would be dangerous to scare these folks too much."
Murat had conceived intoxicating hopes which did not tend to the
tranquillity of the Spanish court. He had asked for political
instructions, which were refused to him. "What I do not tell you is what
you ought not to know," wrote Napoleon to his lieutenant. Uneasiness and
fear reigned in the household of the king, under the outside show of
welcome lavished on the French soldiers. Already the Prince de la Paix was
preparing for the flight of the royal family. That which the house of
Braganza had done by setting out for Brazil, the house of Bourbon could do
by taking refuge in Peru. The departure of the court for Seville was
announced; it was the first step in a longer journey, of which the project
had not yet been revealed to Charles IV. The royal family were besides
profoundly divided. The Prince of Asturias swore that he would not quit
Aranjuez; his uncle Don Antonio supported him in resistance. A few of the
ministers were seemingly throwing off the yoke of the Prince de la Paix.
The Marquis of Caballero, the Minister of Justice, refused to sign the
orders necessary for the departure. "I command it," said the Prince de la
Paix imperiously. "I only receive orders from the king," said the Spanish
nobleman in a tone to which the favorite was not accustomed.
Meanwhile the population of Madrid, and the peasants in the environs of
Aranjuez, were stirred up by the reports of the departure which circulated
in the country; the preparations carried on by the confidants of the
Prince de la Paix, excited much anger and uneasiness. An agitated and
inquisitive crowd ceaselessly surrounded the palace, carefully watching
all the movements of the inmates: a proclamation of the King, promising
not to withdraw, did not suffice to allay suspicion. On the night of March
17th, a veiled lady came forth from the house of the Prince de la Paix to
a carriage which was waiting for her. The multitude thought they had
discovered a prelude to the departure; all hands were extended to stay the
fugitive. In the struggle a shot was fired; the crowd immediately rushed
forward, forcing the gates, and overturning the guards who protected the
palace of the favorite. In an instant his dwelling was pillaged, his art
treasures destroyed, his tapestries torn up and scattered to the winds. We
have been witnesses of the sorrowful results of popular fury. The Princess
de la Paix alone, trembling for her life in the palace where her just
pride had so often suffered, was spared by the vengeance of the multitude;
they brought her in triumph to the house of the king. "Behold innocence!"
cried the people. The Prince de la Paix had disappeared.
They were seeking for him thirty-six hours, and the anxiety of the king
and queen was becoming insupportable; both loudly demanded their favorite.
With a view of turning away the anger of the people from his head, Charles
IV. issued an edict depriving Emanuel Godoy, Prince de la Paix, of all his
offices and dignities, and authorizing him to choose for himself the place
of his retreat. The favorite had more correctly estimated the hatred
excited against himself; he had sought no other retreat than a loft in his
palace. There, rolled up in a mat, with a few pieces of gold in his hands,
he waited for the moment to take his flight. On March 19th, at ten o'clock
in the morning; as he attempted to escape secretly, he was perceived by a
soldier of that guard to which he had formerly belonged; immediately
arrested, he was dragged to a guard-house. When he at length reached this
sad refuge he was bruised and bleeding, from the blows showered upon him
by all those who could reach him through the crowding ranks of the
multitude and the barriers formed by the soldiers. At the barracks where
the Prince de la Paix lay on the straw, the Prince of Asturias came to
seek him out in the name of his parents, and to promise him his life. "Art
thou already king, that thou canst thus dispense pardon?" asked Godoy,
with a bitter perception of the change which had been effected in the
position of the prince as in his own. "No," replied Ferdinand, "but I soon
shall be."
The royal uneasiness did not permit them long to leave the favorite in a
guard-house, a prey to the insults and ill-usage of the populace; the king
and queen remained obstinately faithful to their friend. A coach was got
ready to take him away to a place of safety; as soon as it appeared, the
people threw themselves upon the carriage and broke it up. When the noise
reached the palace the old king burst into tears: "My people no longer
love me!" cried he; "I will no longer reign over them. I shall abdicate in
favor of my son." The queen's mind was occupied with no other thought than
the safety of Godoy; she thought it assured by this renunciation of the
throne, and willingly set her hands to it. The act of abdication was
immediately made public, and saluted, at Madrid as at Aranjuez, by the
transports of the multitude. Henceforth King Ferdinand VII. was alone
surrounded by the courtiers; his aged father remained abandoned in the
palace of Aranjuez. Murat was already approaching Madrid, and all eyes
were turned towards him as towards the forerunner of the supreme arbiter.
Ferdinand VII. hastened to send emissaries to him. The Queen of Etruria,
who had only just reached her parents, wrote to him conjuring him to come
to Aranjuez, to judge for himself of the situation. On March 25th, 1808,
the French army made its entry into the capital.
The popular insurrection which had overthrown the Prince de la Paix and
provoked the abdication of Charles IV., had thwarted the plans of Napoleon
so far as his lieutenant was able to divine them. The flight of the royal
family would have left the throne of Spain vacant, and Murat had cherished
the hope of posing as a liberator of the Spanish nation, delivered from
the yoke so long imposed on it by a miserable favorite. In the presence of
a new and popular royalty, born of a patriotic sentiment, Murat
comprehended for the first time the necessity of reserve and prudence. The
distrust of the new monarch as regards fallen royalty, the anger and ill-
will of the parents as regards the son who had dethroned them, were to
bring both parties before the powerful protector who had been wise enough
beforehand to effect a military occupation of their country. It was
important to remain free, and to prepare for war with King Ferdinand VII.
The popular passion naturally offered a point of support against Charles
IV., his wife, and his favorite. Montyon, aide-de-camp to Murat, repaired
to Aranjuez, counselling the old king to draw up a protest against the
violence of which he had been the victim. Until then, the queen in the
letters which she had addressed to Napoleon and to Murat, had only asked
for a place in which to lay her head: "Let the grand duke prevail upon the
emperor to give to the king my husband, to myself, and to the Prince de la
Paix, sufficient for all three to subsist upon in a place good for our
health, free from oppression or intrigues." At the instigation of Murat,
and not without some hesitation, Charles IV. declared that he had only
abdicated in order to avoid greater evils, and to prevent the effusion of
the blood of his subjects, "which rendered the act null and of no effect."
Murat at the same time made use of the friendship and confidence which had
long existed between Beauharnais and Ferdinand VII., to suggest to this
prince the idea of presenting himself before the emperor and asking
sanction for his royal authority. The Spanish troops received orders to
effect a retrograde movement, and the new monarch solemnly entered into
Madrid on the 24th of March, amidst impassioned cries of joy from the
populace.
The lieutenant had well divined the idea of the imperious master from whom
he was separated by a distance that perilously retarded his orders. The
emperor had heard the news of the royal departure for Seville and for
America. He had written, on March 23rd, the same day upon which Murat had
watered Madrid in the footprints of the revolutions: "I suppose I am about
to receive the news of all that will have taken place at Madrid on the
17th and 18th of March." Unforeseen events having occurred, he wrote to
Murat on the 27th: "You are to prevent any harm from being done, either to
the king or queen or to the Prince de la Paix. If the latter is brought to
trial, I imagine that I shall be consulted. You are to tell M. de
Beauharnais that I desire him to intervene, and that this affair should be
hushed up. Until the new king is recognized by me you are to act as if the
old king was still reigning; on that point you are to await my orders. As
I have already commanded you, maintain good order at Madrid; prevent any
extraordinary warlike preparations. Employ M. de Beauharnais in all this
until my arrival, which you are to declare to be imminent. You are always
saying that you have no instructions; I give you them every time; I tell
you to keep your troops well rested, to replenish your commissariat, and
not to prejudice the question in any way. It seems to me that you have no
need to know anything more."
The political instructions were to reach Murat through the agency of
General Savary, often charged by the emperor with delicate missions
requiring absolute and unscrupulous devotion. On seizing by stratagem the
fortress of Pampeluna, General Darmagnac had frankly said, "This is dirty
work." General Savary obeyed without reserve, always absorbed in the
enterprise confided to him, and never letting himself be turned aside by
any obstacle. The emperor wrote on the 30th of March to the Grand Duke of
Berg:--
"I received your letters with those of the King of Spain. Snatch the
Prince de la Paix from the hands of these people. My intention is that no
harm shall be done to him, since he is two leagues from Madrid and almost
in your reach; I shall be much vexed to hear that any evil has happened to
him.
"The king says that he will repair to your camp; I wait to know that he is
in safety, in order to make known to you my intentions. You have done
well in not recognizing the Prince of Asturias.
"You are to place King Charles IV. at the Escurial, to treat him with the
greatest respect, to declare that he continues always to rule in Spain,
until I shall have recognized the revolution.
"I strongly approve your conduct in these unforeseen circumstances. I
suppose you will not have allowed the Prince de la Paix to perish, and
that you will not have permitted King Charles to go Badajoz. If he is
still in your hands, you must dissemble with Beauharnais, and say that you
cannot recognize the Prince of Asturias, whom I have not recognized; that
it is necessary to let King Charles come to the Escurial; that the first
thing I shall require on my arrival will be to see him. Take all measures
not to have his life in jeopardy. I hope the position in which you find
yourself will have led you to adopt a sound policy."
On the 27th of March, three days before ordering Murat to hold the balance
suspended between father and son, Napoleon had written to the King of
Holland, Louis Bonaparte: "My brother, the King of Spain has just
abdicated; the Prince de la Paix has been thrown into prison. The
commencement of an insurrection has broken forth at Madrid. On that
occasion my troops were forty leagues away from Madrid. The Grand Duke of
Berg was to enter on the 23rd with 40,000 men. Up to this time the people
loudly call for me. Certain that I should have no solid peace with England
except by effecting a great change on the continent, I have resolved to
place a French prince upon the throne of Spain. The climate of Holland
does not suit you. Besides, Holland would never know how to emerge from
its ruins. In this whirlwind of the world, whether we have peace or not,
there are no means by which Holland can sustain herself. In this state of
things, I think of you for the throne of Spain. You will be the sovereign
of a generous nation, of 11,000,000 of men, and of important colonies.
With economy and activity, Spain could have 60,000 men under arms and
fifty vessels in her ports. You perceive that this is still only a
project, and that, although I have 100,000 men in Spain, it is possible,
according to the circumstances that may arise, either that I may march
directly, and that all may be accomplished in a fortnight, or that I may
march more slowly, and that this may be a secret during several months of
operations. Answer me categorically. If I appoint you King of Spain, do
you agree? Can I count upon you? Answer me only these two words: 'I have
received your letter of such date; I answer Yes;' and then I shall
conclude that you will do what I wish; or, otherwise, 'No,' which will
give me to understand that you do not agree to my proposition. Do not take
anyone into your confidence, and do not speak to anyone whatever as to the
purport of this letter, for a thing must be done before we confess to
having thought of it."
Full of these resolves, which he had not yet completely revealed to his
most intimate confidants, the emperor quitted Paris on the 2nd of April.
He was expected in Spain, and he had announced his arrival over and over
again, but his purpose was not to push forward his journey so far.
Already, at the instigation of General Savary, who knowingly seconded the
advice innocently given by Beauharnais, the new king had resolved upon
presenting himself before Napoleon. The latter was equally expecting the
arrival of the Prince de la Paix, the bearer of messages from the king,
Charles IV., and the queen. The emperor had written on his behalf to
Marshal Bessières, recommending him to protect the progress of the
formerly all-powerful favorite. "I have not to complain of him in any
way," said he; "he is only sent into France for his safety; reassure him
by all means." The counsellors of Ferdinand VII. refused to allow the
Prince de la Paix to set out; he was regarded as a hostage. The young king
had vainly solicited from his father a letter of introduction to Napoleon.
"In this letter," said he, "you will felicitate the emperor on his
arrival, and you bear witness that I have the same sentiments with regard
to him that you have always shown." Anger and distrust remained very
powerful in the little court of Aranjuez. Ferdinand VII. set out on the
10th of April, accompanied by General Savary, who lavished upon him the
royal titles rigorously refused by Murat. The emperor had given similar
instructions to Bessières. "Without entering into the political question,
on those occasions on which you will be compelled to speak of the Prince
of Asturias do not call him Ferdinand VII.; evade the difficulty by
calling those who rule at Madrid the government." A junta, or Council of
State, had been formed at Madrid, under the presidency of the Infanta Don
Antonio, in order to direct affairs in the absence of the new monarch. The
latter had already arrived at Burgos.
Napoleon had not yet passed Bordeaux, where he remained a few days,
designedly vying in delay with the Spanish court. He wrote on the 10th of
April to Murat: "If the Prince of Asturias presents himself at Burgos and
at Bayonne, he will have kept his word. When the end that I propose to
myself, and with which Savary will have made you acquainted, is
accomplished, you will be able to declare verbally and in all
conversations that my intention is not only to preserve the integrity of
the provinces and the independence of the country, but also the privileges
of all classes, and that I will pledge myself to do that; that I am
desirous of seeing Spain happy, and in such circumstances that I may never
see it an object of dread to France. Those who wish for a liberal
government and the regeneration of Spain will find them in my plan; those
who fear the return of the queen and the Prince de la Paix may be
reassured, since those individuals will have no influence and no credit.
The nobles who wish for consideration and honors which they did not have
in the past administration, will find them. Good Spaniards who wish for
tranquillity and a wise administration, will find these advantages in a
system which will maintain the integrity and independence of the Spanish
monarchy."
Perhaps some provision of the _system_ that the Emperor Napoleon was
projecting had crossed the mind of Ferdinand VII. and of his counsellors;
perhaps the Spanish pride was wounded by the little eagerness to set foot
in Spain shown by the all-powerful sovereign of the French. Certain it is
that General Savary, who had had much difficulty in persuading Ferdinand
VII. to decide on pursuing his journey beyond Burgos, failed in his
efforts to induce him to quit Vittoria. The behavior of the general became
rude and haughty. "I set out for Bayonne," said he; "you will have
occasion to regret your decision." Napoleon arrived, in fact, at Bayonne a
few hours after his envoy.
Two days later General Savary retook the road to Vittoria, $he bearer of a
letter from the emperor for the _Prince of Asturias_.
"My brother, I have received the letter of your Royal Highness. You ought
to have found proof, by the papers which you have had from the king your
father, of the interest I have always taken in him. You will permit me,
under the circumstances, to speak to you freely and faithfully. On
arriving at Madrid I was hoping to induce my illustrious friend to accept
a few reforms necessary in his states, and to give some satisfaction to
public opinion. The dismissal of the Prince de la Paix appeared to me
necessary for his happiness and that of his subjects. The affairs of the
north have retarded my journey. The events of Aranjuez have taken place. I
am not the judge of what has passed, and of the conduct of the Prince de
la Paix; but I know well that it is dangerous for kings to accustom their
people to shed blood and do justice for themselves. I pray God that your
Royal Highness may not one day have to make the experiment. How could you
bring the Prince de la Paix to trial without including with him the queen,
and your father the king? He has no longer any friends. Your Royal
Highness will have none if ever you are unfortunate. The people willingly
avenge themselves for the honor they render to us. I have often manifested
a desire that the Prince de la Paix should be withdrawn from affairs; the
friendship of King Charles has as often induced me to hold my tongue and
turn away my eyes from the weakness of his attachment. Miserable men that
we are! feebleness and error are our mottoes. But all this can be set
right. Let the Prince de la Paix be exiled from Spain, and I will offer
him a refuge in France. As to the abdication of Charles IV., it took place
at a moment when my armies covered Spain, and in the eyes of Europe and of
posterity I should appear to have despatched so many troops only to
precipitate from the throne my ally and friend. As a neighboring sovereign
it is permitted me to wish to become fully acquainted with this abdication
before recognizing it. I say to your Royal Highness, to the Spaniards, to
the entire world, If the abdication of King Charles is a spontaneous
movement, if it has not been forced upon him by the insurrection and the
mob of Aranjuez, I make no difficulty about admitting it, and I recognize
your Royal Highness as King of Spain. I desire then to talk with you on
this point. When King Charles informed me of the occurrence of October
last I was sorrowfully affected by it.
"Your Royal Highness has been much in the wrong: I did not require as a
proof of it the letter you wrote to me, and which I have always wished to
ignore. Should you be a king in your turn you would know how sacred are
the rights of the throne; any application to a foreign sovereign on the
part of an hereditary prince is criminal. As regards the marriage of a
French princess with your Royal Highness, I hold it would be conformable
to the interests of my people, and above all a circumstance which would
attach me by new bonds to a family that has won nothing but praises from
me since I ascended the throne. Your Royal Highness ought to mistrust the
outbreaks of popular emotions; they may be able to commit a few murders on
my isolated soldiers, but the ruin of Spain would be the result of it.
Your Highness understands my thoughts fully; you see that I am floating
between diverse ideas, that require to be fixed. You may be certain that
in any case I shall comport myself towards you as towards the king your
father."
On receiving this letter, by turns menacing and caressing, and on
listening to the commentaries with which General Savary accompanied it,
the prince and his followers still hesitated to advance beyond the
frontiers. The repugnance manifested by the population became every day
more intense. Urquijo, one of the oldest and wisest counsellors of King
Charles IV., insisted upon the advantages that Napoleon would realize by
counterbalancing the claims of the son by those of the father, and by thus
placing the peninsula under the laws of the general system of the French
Empire. He asserted that the intention was already apparent under the
words used, official and private, and that Ferdinand would lose himself,
and lose Spain, in repairing to Bayonne. "What!" cried the Duc de
l'Infantado, for a long time an accomplice in all the intrigues of the
Prince of Asturias, "what! would a hero surrounded with so much glory
descend to the basest of perfidies?" "You do not understand heroes,"
replied Urquijo, bitterly. "You have not read Plutarch. The greatest
amongst them have raised their greatness upon heaps of corpses. What did
our own Charles V. do in Germany and Italy, and in Spain itself? I do not
go back to the most wicked of our princes. Posterity takes no account of
means."
This counsel was too prudent and wise to prevail with minds at once
headstrong and feeble. Ferdinand resolved to trust to the hopes that
Napoleon caused to gleam before his eyes; he knew not that his retreat was
cut off. "If the prince comes to Bayonne," the emperor had written to
Marshal Bessières, "it is very well; if he retires to Burgos, you will
have him arrested, and conducted to Bayonne. You will inform the Grand
Duke of Berg of this occurrence; and you will make it known at Burgos that
King Charles has protested, and that the Prince of Asturias is not king.
If he refuses the interview that I propose, it is a sign of his belonging
to the English party, and then there will be nothing more to arrange." On
the 20th of April the prince and his suite crossed the little river of the
Bidassoa. As he was leaving Vittoria, the crowd assembled in the streets
became violent, and cut the traces of the horses. In order to avoid a
popular riot, the squadrons of the imperial guard had to surround the
carriage of the prince; he set out from his states as if already a
prisoner.
It was as a suppliant that he arrived at Bayonne, and the sorrowful
impression he had experienced on passing the frontier increased as he drew
nigh to the end of his journey. There was no one on his road to meet him
or compliment him, save the three Spanish noblemen whom he had himself
sent to Napoleon, and who returned to their prince troubled with the
gloomiest presentiments. Marshals Duroc and Berthier received him,
however, with courtesy when he arrived at Bayonne, and the emperor soon
had him brought to the chateau of Marac, in which he himself was
installed. Carrying out his previous declaration, Napoleon would give to
his visitor no other title than that of Prince of Asturias. At the end of
the day, General Savary escorted Ferdinand to his apartment; the emperor
kept beside himself Canon Escoiquiz.
The hour for revelations had arrived. Napoleon took the trouble to develop
to the canon preceptor his reasons for depriving the house of Bourbon of
the throne, and for placing upon it a prince of the Bonaparte family. "I
will give Etruria to Prince Ferdinand in exchange," said he; "it is a fine
country; he will be happy and tranquil. The populace will perhaps rebel on
a few points, but I have on my side religion and the monks. I have had
experience of it, and the countries where there are plenty of monks are
easy to subjugate."
Napoleon paced to and fro in his room, sometimes stopping in front of the
canon, whom he terrified by his flashing glances and by the extreme
animation of his language, sometimes according to him one of those
familiar and waggish gestures which were the signs of his favor. The
unfortunate Escoiquiz sought in vain to defend the cause of his prince,
making the most of his merits and his personal attachment to the emperor,
and pledging his submission if he became sovereign of Spain and an ally of
the imperial family. "You are telling me stories, canon," replied
Napoleon. "You are too well informed to be ignorant of the fact that a
woman is too feeble a bond to determine the political conduct of a prince:
and who will guarantee that you will be near him in six months' time. All
this is only bad politics. Your Bourbons have never served me except
against their will. They have always been ready to betray me. A brother
will be worth more to me, whatever you say about it. The regeneration of
Spain is impossible in their hands; they will be always, in spite of
themselves, the support of ancient abuses. My part is decided on; the
revolution must be accomplished. Spain will not lose a village, and I have
taken my precautions as to the colonies. Let your prince decide before the
arrival of King Charles relative to the exchange of his rights against
Tuscany. If he accepts, the treaty will be concluded; if he refuses, it is
of little consequence, for I shall obtain from his father the cession that
I require, Tuscany will remain in possession of France, and his royal
highness will receive no indemnity."
The canon covered his face with his hands. "Alas!" cried he, "what will be
said of us who counselled our prince to come hither?" The emperor again
reassured him. "Do not annoy yourself, canon," said he; "neither you nor
the others have any cause to afflict yourselves. You could not divine my
intentions, for nobody was acquainted with them. Go and find your prince."
General Savary displayed less eloquence and power of persuasion in
announcing to the unfortunate Ferdinand the intentions of the emperor,
whom he had on his part so adroitly served. The prince was utterly
astounded when his old preceptor entered his room. The intimate
counsellors were convoked; they persisted in seeing in the declaration of
Napoleon a daring manoeuvre intended to terrify the house of Spain into
some important cession of territory. The prince formally refused to accept
the kingdom of Etruria; he maintained that the rights of the crown of
Spain were unalienable; he possessed them by consent of his father Charles
IV., who alone could dispute the throne with him. Two negotiators were
successively commissioned to carry this reply to Champagny, the Minister
for Foreign Affairs.
The latter had just drawn up a report for the emperor, deciding upon
taking possession of Spain. "We must recommence the work of Louis XIV.,"
it said. "That which policy counsels, justice authorizes. The present
circumstances do not permit your Majesty to refrain from intervention in
the affairs of this kingdom. The King of Spain has been precipitated from
his throne. Your Majesty is called upon to judge between the father and
son: which part will you take? Would you sacrifice the cause of sovereigns
and of all fathers, and permit an outrage to be done to the majesty of the
throne? Would you leave upon the throne of Spain a prince who will not be
able to preserve himself from the yoke of the English, so that your
Majesty will have constantly to maintain a large army in Spain? If, on the
contrary, your Majesty is determined to replace Charles IV. on the throne,
you know that it could not be done without having to overcome great
resistance, nor without causing French blood to flow. Lastly, could your
Majesty, taking no interest in these great differences, abandon the
Spanish nation to its doom, when already a violent fermentation is
agitating it, and England is sowing there the seeds of trouble and
anarchy? Ought your Majesty then to leave this new prey to be devoured by
the English? Certainly not. Thus your Majesty, compelled to undertake the
regeneration of Spain, in a manner useful for her and useful for France,
ought neither to re-establish at the price of much blood a dethroned king,
nor to sanction the revolt of his son, nor to abandon Spain to itself; for
in these two last cases it would be to deliver it to the English, who by
their gold and their intrigues have succeeded in tearing and rending this
country, and thus you would assure their triumph.
"I have set forth to your Majesty the circumstances which compel you to
come to a great determination. Policy counsels it, justice authorizes it,
the troubles of Spain impose it as a necessity. Your Majesty has to
provide for the safety of your empire, and save Spain from the influence
of the English."
Even the most resolute and scrupulous men love to be bolstered up with
words, and to surround themselves with vain pretexts. The Emperor
Napoleon, resolved on robbing the house of Bourbon of a throne which had
become suspected by him, had asked from Champagny an explanatory memoir,
and took care to pose as an arbitrator between King Charles IV. and his
son, in order to cover his perfidy with a mantle of distributive justice.
He had already apprised Murat of his desire to see the old sovereign of
Spain before him; the request of Charles IV. and his queen forestalled
this proposal. The lieutenant-general had at last snatched away the Prince
de la Paix from the hands which detained him. The favorite had taken
refuge under the wing of Murat, in the most pitiable condition. "The
Prince de la Paix arrives this evening," wrote Napoleon to Talleyrand on
the 25th of April; "he has been for a month between life and death, always
menaced with the latter. Would you believe it that, in this interval, he
has never changed his shirt, and has a beard seven inches long? The most
absurd calumnies have been laid to his charge. Cause articles to be
written, not justifying the Prince de la Paix, but depicting in characters
of fire the evils of popular insurrections, and drawing forth pity for
this unfortunate man. It will be as well for him not to delay his arrival
in Paris." On the 1st of May, after the arrival of the entire royal
family: "The Prince de la Paix is here. King Charles is a brave man. I
know not whether it is his position or circumstances, but he has the air
of a frank and good patriarch. The queen has her heart and history on her
countenance; that is enough to say to you; it surpasses everything that it
is permitted to imagine. The Prince de la Paix has the air of a bull. He
is beginning to feel himself again; he has been treated with unexampled
barbarity. It will be well for him to be discharged from all false
imputations, but it will be necessary to leave him covered by a slight
touch of contempt.
"The Prince of Asturias is very stupid, very evilly disposed, very much
the enemy of the French. You readily perceive that with my practice in
managing men his experience of twenty-four years has not been able to
impose upon me; and this is so evident to me, that it would take a long
war to bring me to recognize him as King of Spain. Moreover, I have had it
notified to him that I ought not to hold communications with him, King
Charles being upon my frontiers. I have consequently had his couriers
arrested. One of them was the bearer of a letter to Don Antonio: 'I
forewarn you that the emperor has in his hands a letter from Maria Louisa
(the Queen of Etruria, his sister), which states that the abdication of my
father was forced. Act as if you did not know this, but conduct yourself
accordingly, and strive to prevent these accursed Frenchmen from gaining
any advantage by their wickedness.'" All the correspondence of the Prince
of Asturias passed under the eyes of Napoleon.
On their arrival at Bayonne on the 30th of April, King Charles IV. and his
queen were received with all royal honors. The emperor had himself
regulated the ceremonial. "All who are here, even the Infantado and
Escoiquiz, came to kiss the hand of the king and queen, kneeling," wrote
Napoleon to Murat on May 1st. "This scene roused the indignation of the
king and queen, who all the time regarded them with contempt. They
proceeded to their apartments ushered by Marshal Duroc, when the two
princes wished to follow them; but the king turning towards them, thus
addressed them: 'Princes, you have covered my gray hairs with shame and
sorrow; you come to add derision also. Depart, that I may never see you
again.' Since this occurrence the princes appear considerably stunned and
astonished. I know not yet upon what they have resolved."
On arriving at the gate of the chateau of Marac the old king, Charles IV.,
fell weeping into the arms of Napoleon. "Lean upon me," said the emperor;
"I have strength enough for both." "I know it well!" replied Charles: it
was the genuine expression of his thoughts. The Prince de la Paix was not
long in coming to the conclusion that all hope of his master's restoration
was lost. Repose, with an ample competency, was promised to him; Napoleon
also enabled him to get a taste of the pleasure of vengeance. Charles IV.
had given command to his son, requiring from him a pure and simple
renunciation of the crown which he had usurped: the prince peremptorily
refused. The old king rose up with difficulty, brandishing his cane above
his head: "I will have you treated like the rebel emigrants," cried he,
"as an unnatural son who wished to snatch away my life and my crown." They
had to restrict themselves to written communications. A letter from
Charles IV. reclaimed the crown, and presented to his son's notice a
mournful picture of his proceedings. "I have had recourse to the Emperor
of the French," said he, "no longer as a king, at the head of his army and
surrounded with the splendor of a throne, but as an unfortunate and
forsaken monarch. I have found protection and refuge in the midst of his
camp. I owe him my life and that of my queen and of my First Minister. All
now depends on the mediation and protection of this great prince. I have
reigned for the happiness of my subjects; I do not wish to bequeath them
civil war, rebellions, and the popular assemblies of revolution.
Everything ought to be done for the people, and nothing for one's self.
All my life I have sacrificed myself for my people; and it is not at the
age at which I have now arrived that I should do anything contrary to
their religion, their tranquillity, and their happiness. When I shall be
assured that the religion of Spain, the integrity of my provinces, their
independence and their privileges, will be maintained, I shall descend
into the tomb pardoning you the bitterness of my last years."
The king had already invested Murat with supreme power in the capacity of
Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom. Ferdinand continually resisted--
proposing, indeed, to make an act of renunciation, but only at Madrid, in
presence of the Cortes, and under the condition that the king, Charles
IV., should himself resume possession of the throne. The preliminary
negotiations became each day more bitter. Napoleon pursued his aim without
disturbing himself at the refusals of the prince, who, however, provoked
in him some ill-humor. He had by a single stroke destroyed the illusions
and hopes of Murat by writing to him on the 2nd of May, "I intend the King
of Naples to reign at Madrid. I wish to give you the kingdom of Naples, or
that of Portugal. Answer me immediately what you think of it, for it is
necessary for this to be done in a day." The very day on which Napoleon
thus inflicted on his brother-in-law a stroke for which Murat never
consoled himself, the insurrection which broke out at Madrid rendered
impossible the elevation to the throne of Spain of the man whose duty it
was so roughly to repress it. For a fortnight the excitement in the
capital had been intense, carefully kept up by the reports which Ferdinand
and his friends found the means of freely spreading amongst the
population. An order had been sent to Murat to make all those princes of
the royal house who were still at Madrid set out for Bayonne; when the
Junta had been induced with great difficulty to give its consent to this
measure, the populace opposed the departure. A certain number of soldiers
were massacred, an aide-de-camp of Murat escaping by a miracle from the
popular anger. The troops had for a long time been posted as a precaution
against an insurrection, and all the streets were soon swept by charges of
cavalry; cannon resounded in all directions. The Spanish troops, consigned
to their quarters, only took part in the struggle at one point; a company
of artillery gave up its pieces to the people. When the insurrection was
suppressed a hundred insurgents were shot without any form of trial.
This was, in the capital, the last and feeble effort of a resistance which
had not yet had time to become a patriotic passion. Henceforth Murat felt
himself master of Madrid; he became President of the Junta. Don Antonio
had accompanied to Bayonne his nephew, François de Paule, and his niece,
the Queen of Etruria.
"Your Majesty has nothing more to do than to designate the king whom you
destine for Spain," mournfully wrote the lieutenant-general on the morning
of the 3rd; "this king will reign without obstacle." But lately he had
repeated this proposal, heard on several occasions amongst the inhabitants
of Madrid: "Let us run to the house of the Grand Duc de Berg, and proclaim
him king."
The news of the insurrection of Madrid precipitated at Bayonne the
_denoûment_ of the tragi-comedy in which for several days the illustrious
actors had been playing their parts. The emperor feigned great anger, and
the terror of the old Spanish sovereigns was real.
"It is thou who art the cause of all this!" cried the king, Charles IV.,
violently apostrophizing his son. "Thou hast caused the blood of our
subjects and of our allies to flow, in order to hasten by a few days the
moment of bearing a crown too heavy for thee. Restore it to him who can
sustain it." The prince remained taciturn and sombre, limiting himself to
protesting his innocence. His mother threw herself upon him. "Thou hast
always been a bad son," she cried with violence; "thou hast wished to
dethrone thy father, to cause thy mother's death; and thou art standing
there before us insensible, without replying either to us or to our friend
the great Napoleon: speak, justify thyself, if thou canst." The emperor,
who was present at this sorrowful scene, intervened: "If between this and
midnight you have not recognized your father as the lawful king, and have
not sent word to Madrid to that effect, you shall be treated as a rebel."
This was too much for the courage of Ferdinand; he was in the hands of an
irritated master, who had drawn him and his into a snare which was at this
time impossible to be broken through. Weakness and cowardice in the
present did not forbid far-off hopes; the prince yielded, counting on the
future. "For any one who can see it, his character is depicted by a single
word," Napoleon had said; "he is a sneak."
The treaty was concluded the same evening, through the mediation of the
Prince de la Paix. King Charles IV., recognizing that he and his family
were incapable of assuring the repose of Spain, of which he was the sole
lawful sovereign, surrendered the crown to the Emperor of the French, for
him to dispose of it at his will. Spain and her colonies were to form an
independent state. The Catholic religion was to remain dominant, to the
exclusion of all others. King Charles IV. was to enjoy during life the
castle and forest of Compiègne; the castle of Chambord was to belong to
him in perpetuity; a civil list of 7,500,000 francs was assured to him
from the French Treasury. A particular convention accorded the absolute
property of the castle of Navarre to Prince Ferdinand, with a revenue of
1,000,000 francs, and 400,000 livres income for each of the Infantas. When
the emperor notified to Count Mollien, then Minister of the Treasury, the
tenor of the treaty, he added: "That will make 10,000,000. All these sums
will be reimbursed by Spain." The Spanish nation was to pay for the fall
of its dynasty and the pacific conquest upon which Napoleon counted. She
reserved for him another price for his perfidious manoeuvres.
Already the Spanish princes were on the way to their retreats. Compiègne
and Navarre not being ready for their reception, the old king was to
inhabit Fontainebleau provisionally. The emperor ordered Talleyrand to
receive the Infantas at Valençay, thus confiding to his vice-grand-elector
the honorable functions of a jailer. "I desire," he wrote to him on the
9th of May, "that the princes may be received with no external ceremony,
but with respect and care, and that you do everything possible to amuse
them. Be on Monday evening at Valençay. If you have a theatre there, and
could get a few comedians to come, it would not be a bad idea; you might
bring Madame de Talleyrand there, with four or five ladies. I have the
greatest interest in the Prince of Asturias being prevented from taking
any false steps. I desire, then, that he may be amused and occupied. Harsh
policy would lead one to put him in the Bicêtre, or in some strong castle;
but as he has thrown himself into my arms, and has promised me to do
nothing without my orders, and as all goes on in Spain as I desire, I have
decided to send him into a country place, surrounding him at the same time
with pleasures and keeping him under strict surveillance. Let this last
during the month of May and part of June; the affairs of Spain will have
taken a turn, and I shall then see what part I shall take.
"As to you, your mission is honorable enough; to receive at your house
these three illustrious personages, in order to amuse them, is altogether
worthy of the nation and of your rank."
The captivity of the Spanish princes was to be much longer and less
cheerful than the Emperor Napoleon was depicting it beforehand. He had
already provided for the government of Spain. Sorrowfully and with great
difficulty, Murat had prevailed upon the Grand Council of Castile and the
Indies to indicate a preference for the King of Naples. The Junta had
absolutely refused to take part in any manifestations of this nature. On
the 10th of May, Napoleon wrote to King Joseph, "King Charles, by the
treaty I have made with him, cedes to me all the rights of the crown of
Spain. The nation, through the medium of the Supreme Council of Castile,
asks from me a king. It is for you that I destine this crown. Spain is not
like the kingdom of Naples: it has 11,000,000 of inhabitants, more than a
hundred and fifty millions of revenue, without counting the immense
revenues and possessions of all the Americas. It is, besides, a crown
which places you at Madrid, within three days of France, which entirely
covers one of its frontiers. At Madrid you are in France; Naples is at the
end of the world. I desire, then, that immediately you have received this
letter you should confide the regency to whoever you will, and the command
of the troops to Marshal Jourdan, and that you should set out for Bayonne
by way of Turin, Mont Cenis, and Lyons. You will receive this letter on
the 19th, you will set out on the 20th, and you will be here on the 1st of
June. Withal, keep the matter secret; people will perhaps suspect
something, but you can say that you have to go to Upper Italy in order to
confer with me on important affairs."
Napoleon had said, the moment when he concluded the treaty which deprived
the house of Bourbon of its last throne, "What I am doing is not well in a
certain point of view, I know. But policy demands that I should not leave
in my rear, so near Paris, a dynasty inimical to my own."
Justice and right possess lights of which the cleverest framers of human
politics are at times ignorant. The Emperor Napoleon descended several
steps towards his fall when he abused his power as regards Pope Pius VII.,
and used odious means to dethrone the feeble and ignorant princes who were
ruling over Spain. Very slippery are the roads of universal power; in the
steps of its master, France was rushing to disaster.