rived that the Spaniards were repairing the old barracks, near the rock, that tents were ordered for a French army at Cadiz, and that the usual communication which had existed between the garrison and the neighbouring parts of Spain, was suspended, many persons began to believe that the attempt would be made. So strongly did this opinion prevail, that the Duke of Kent addressed a letter to the King, soliciting permission, as Governor of that fortress, to return to his post; and, when this permission was refused, he thought it expedient to publish his letter in the newspapers, for the purpose, as he expressed himself, "of clearing his own character from the aspersion that must unavoidably attach to it, in consequence of his absence from his government at such a moment, were it conceived to be voluntary on his part, or that he had been passive on the occasion."

It soon, however, became apparent, that the forces which Buonaparte was marching into Spain were designed to effect some important revolution in the government of that country,---though of what nature that revolution would be no reasonable conjecture could be formed. On the 30th of October, in the preceding year, a proclamation* was issued from the Escurial, in which the King of Spain accused his son, the Prince of Asturias, of conspiring to dethrone him: " My life," he said, "which has so often been in danger, was too long in the eyes of my successor. Being informed that he had entered into a project to dethrone me, I thought proper to enquire personally into the truth of the fact; and, surprising him in my room, I found in

his possession the cypher of his cerrespondence. In consequence of this discovery, I immediately convoked the Governor and Council, in order that they might make the necessary investigation; the result has been the detection of several malefactors, whose imprisonment I have ordered, as also the arrest of my son." Six days after the date of this ex- Nov. 5. traordinary proclamation, another was issued, in which two letters from the Prince were contained.The first, which was addressed to the King, was in these terms: "Sire and Father, I am guilty of failing in my duty to your Majesty; I have failed in obedience to my father and King. I ought to do nothing without your Majesty's consent-but I have been surprised. I have denounced the guilty,---and beg your Majesty to suffer your repentant son to kiss your feet." The other was to the Queen, in which he requested pardon for the great fault that he had committed, as well as for his obstinacy in denying the truth; and he requested her mediation in his favour. In consequence of these letters, the King said, and of the Queen's entreaty, he forgave him"for the voice of nature unnerved the hand of vengeance." The Prince, he added, had declared the authors of this horrible plot, and laid open every thing in legal form, consistent with the proofs which the law requires in such cases. The Judges, therefore, were commanded to continue the process, and submit their judgment to the King, which was to be according to the magnitude of the of fence, and the quality of the offender. Meantime, at the request of his Council, he ordered a public

thanksgiving for this interposition of Divine Providence in his behalf.

This mysterious affair has never been clearly elucidated. The Spaniards imputed it to the machinations of Don Manuel Godoy, Prince de la Paz, or of the Peace, an upstart, who, from being, in the most infamous sense of the word, the favourite of the Queen, had attained the highest power in the state. This man was completely subservient to France, and it was supposed in this country, that, whether any such conspiracy as was alledged had existed or not, the real plot was devised by Buonaparte, for the sake of exciting divisions in the royal family. This opinion is supported by Don Pedro Cevallos, in his exposition of Buonaparte's conduct in the usurpation of Spain, a document against the validity of which all objections which have been raised are futile and fallacious. It is in all its parts consistent with itself, and with the characters of all the personages of whom it treats; nor is there any inconsistency in the character and conduct of its author.

The Spaniards are, perhaps, the only people who have undergone no national degradation when their country was degraded. A series of imbecil sovereigns had reduced it from the most powerful kingdom in the world, to a secondary state, whose government, for nearly the last century, had been inglorious abroad and oppressive at home. But while Spain was regarded with pity or contempt, a different feeling prevailed concerning the Spaniards; they were universally acknowledged to be an honourable people. It was not so generally known that they felt and groaned for the degradation of their country. When the French Revolution broke out, the young and the

ardent-minded there, as in the rest of Europe, eagerly adopted principles which promised a new and happier order of things, though the partizans of those principles were comparatively less numerous than in any other country, in consequence partly of the state of the press; still more because of the feeling and devotion with which the Spaniards are attached to their religion and all its forms. There were, however, many, and those of the best of the Spaniards, who hoped to obtain that reformation in their government, by the assistance of France, which, without such assistance, they knew it would not only be hopeless, but fatal to attempt. That attachment which they had formed to the French Republic, too many transferred to the French empire. Monstrous as this inconsistency may appear, we see it exemplified among ourselves, and the transition is easily explained; for having, from their principles, at first acquired the feelings of a party, they deluded themselves by supposing that, in serving their party, they served their principles, till at last they had no other principle than the party interest itself. Thus it is that Massaredo and Urquijo, beginning in feelings of true patriotism, have ended in rendering themselves infamous to all posterity, as traitors to their country.

Another class of Spaniards had been hostile to the French Revolution, till its character was changed by Buonaparte. They saw nothing to fear in the principles of his government; and the acts of personal atrocity which he committed did not sufficiently alarm them. The unhappy circumstance with which the war with England had commenced irritated them against this country, and

that sentiment of indignation naturally inclined them toward France. They seem to have conceived, that the best means of obtaining reform would be by contracting a closer alliance with the French Emperor, and, therefore, to have projected, or listened to, the plan of a marriage between their Prince Ferdinand and a Princess of the Corsican family. These views would have been reasonable, if any ties could have restrained the merciless ambition of this man. For though it might be his policy now to keep Spain in her present weakness and consequent dependence, yet, when his own blood acquired an interest in the prosperity of that kingdom, it might fairly be expected that those salutary changes, which were essential to its welfare, would be promoted by him, and peaceably effected unde his auspices. According to Cevallos, the plan was suggested to the Prince by the French Ambassador at Madrid, instructed by his master, though not perhaps acquainted with his designs; the Ambassador, he says, persuaded him to write to Buonaparte proposing such an alliance; he consented, from his anxiety to avoid a marriage into which the Prince de la Paz would have forced him;-and, on this account, (the favourite being all-powerful at court,) it was necessary to begin the negociation unknown to his father. A few days after this letter was written, the arrest of Ferdinand took place; and, according to Cevallos, there were strong reasons to believe that the unknown person who re. vealed this feigned conspiracy, was some French agent employed to forward the Emperor's views. Whether any such intrigues were practised we have as yet no means of ascertaining,

but there seems no necessity for supposing so. All that had hitherto past may be explained without any plot of Buonaparte's. The Ambassador may have acted from the suggestions of Ferdinand's friends, without any instructions from his court, and in perfect sincerity have believed that he was promoting a measure equally beneficial to both countries. The Prince himself, after his accession to the throne, declared, that the steps which he had taken for obtaining a French Princess in marriage were perfectly his own, and without compulsion. He had récommended the removal of Godoy ;-in fact, the only paper of importance found in his possession, when he was seized, was a memoir designed for the King, and written with his own hand, in which he represented the misconduct of the favourite. A paper with various characters, intended to form a system of cyphers, was also found upon him; the strange appearance of such figures would easily terrify so weak a mind as that of Charles IV., aggravated as his fears would be by the artifices of Godoy, to whom, as he possessed both adequate means of discovering the Prince's intentions, and a sufficient and obvious motive for counteracting them, the accusation may with most likelihood be imputed. To him the Spaniards universally imputed it; and so plainly was their opinion manifested, that he soon found it necessary to set the Prince at liberty, and afterwards to drop those proceedings against his party, which had been intimated in the proclamation announcing his release.

An intrigue of this kind, with its plot and counterplot, was neither. necessary for Buonaparte's views, nor consistent with his character. He

had long been preparing the way for the usurpation of Spain. The first steps toward the accomplishment of this design was to remove its best troops, and accordingly, in conformity to treaty, 16,000 men, the flower of the Spanish army, were marched into the north of Germany, under the Marquis de Romana. The next business was to introduce French troops into Spain, and for this the occupation of Portugal afforded a pretext. For many years the Prince of Brazil had submitted to insults which he had no power of resenting, and bought off, at a heavy price, the threat of invasion, in the hope of preserving his kingdom by these expedients, till peace should be restored to Europe. So often had these threats been repeated, and these respites purchased, that Portugal incurred all the shame and the burthen of paying tribute, without obtaining the security of a tributary state. Upon this, however, the government relied. They thought themselves safe, because France received larger sums from them in this manner, than could be drawn from Portugal as a conquered country; because the Spanish treasures, so large a portion of which found their way into France, reached Europe in safety under cover of the Portugueze flag; and because they had every reason to suppose, that, if at any time an attack upon them was seriously intended, the court of Madrid would use its utmost influence to ward off their danger for its own sake. Could any reliance have been

placed either upon the understanding or the honour of the Spanish King, upon royal faith, common interest, and the closest ties of alliance, the Portugueze would have reasoned justly; but Charles IV. was one of the weakest of men, and his favourite* had obtained the administration for his vices, not for his talents, which were of the lowest order.

It was easy for Buonaparte to deal with such men. At the very time when the transaction of the Escurial took place, a secret treaty for the partition of Portugal was signed at Fontainbleau. According to this extraordinary treaty, (which would for ever have remained secret, had it not been published by Cevallos,) the King of Etruria ceding his Italian possessions in full and entire sovereignty to Buonaparte, was to have the province of Entre Minho e Douro, with the city of Porto for its capital, erected into a kingdom for him, under the title of Northern Lusitania. Alentejo and Algarve were in like manner to be given to Godoy, in entire property and sovereignty, with the title of Prince of the Algarves; the other Portugueze provinces were to be held in sequestration till a general peace, at which time, if they were restored to the house of Braganza, in exchange for Gibraltar, Trinidad, and other colonies which the English had conquered, the new sovereign was, like the King of Northern Lusitania and the Prince of the Algarves, to hold his dominions by investiture from the