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.