of 1803 that, if this subsidy continued to be paid to France, it would constitute “at any future period, when circumstances may render it necessary, a just cause of war” between England and Spain.  Far from complying with this reasonable remonstrance, the Spanish Court yielded to Napoleon’s imperious order to repair five French warships that had taken refuge in Ferrol from our cruisers, and in July, 1804, allowed French seamen to travel thither overland to complete the crews of these vessels.  Thus for some months our warships had to observe Ferrol, as if it were a hostile port.

Clearly, this state of things could not continue; and when the protests of our ambassador at Madrid were persistently evaded or ignored, he was ordered, in the month of September, to leave that capital unless he received satisfactory assurances.  He did not leave until November 10th, and before that time a sinister event had taken place.  The British Ministry determined that Spanish treasure-ships from South America should not be allowed to land at Cadiz the sinews of war for France, and sent orders to our squadrons to stop those ships.  Four frigates were told off for that purpose.  On the 5th of October they sighted the four rather smaller Spanish frigates that bore the ingots of Peru, and summoned them to surrender, thereafter to be held in pledge.  The Spaniards, nobly resolving to yield only to overwhelming force, refused; and in the ensuing fight one of their ships blew up, whereupon the others hauled down their flags and were taken to England.  Resenting this action, Spain declared war on December 12th, 1804.

Stripped of all the rodomontade with which French historians have enveloped this incident, the essential facts are as follows.  Napoleon compelled Spain by the threat of invasion to pay him a large subsidy:  England declared this payment, and accompanying acts, to be acts of war; Spain shuffled uneasily between the two belligerents but continued to supply funds to Napoleon and to shelter and repair his warships; thereupon England resolved to cut off her American subsidies, but sent a force too small to preclude the possibility of a sea-fight; the fight took place, with a lamentable result, which changed the covert hostility of Spain into active hostility.

Public opinion and popular narratives are, however, fashioned by sentiment rather than founded on evidence; accordingly, Britain’s prestige suffered from this event.  The facts, as currently reported, seemed to convict her of an act of piracy; and few persons on the Continent or among the Whig coteries of Westminster troubled to find out whether Spain had not been guilty of acts of hostility and whether the French Emperor was not the author of the new war.  Undoubtedly it was his threatening pressure on Spain that had compelled her to her recent action:  but that pressure had been for the most part veiled by diplomacy, while Britain’s retort was patent and notorious.  Consequently, every version of