The immediate demand of Spain for the surrender of the rock of Gibraltar was the signal for all Europe to marshal itself for war—­a war which threatened the destruction of hundreds of thousands of lives, millions of property, and which was sure to spread far and wide over populous cities and extended provinces, carnage, conflagration, and unspeakable woe.  The question was, whether England or Spain should have possession of a rock seven miles long and one mile broad, which was supposed, but very erroneously, to command the Mediterranean.  To the rest of Europe it was hardly a matter of the slightest moment whether the flag of England or Spain waved over those granite cliffs.  It seems incredible that beings endowed with reason could be guilty of such madness.

England, with great vigor, immediately rallied on her side France, Hanover, Holland, Denmark and Sweden.  On the other side were Spain, Austria, Russia, Prussia and a large number of the minor States of Germany.  Many months were occupied in consolidating these coalitions, and in raising the armies and gathering the materials for the war.

In the meantime Ripperda, having so successfully, as he supposed, concluded his negotiations at Vienna, in a high state of exultation commenced his journey back to Spain.  Passing down through the Tyrol and traversing Italy he embarked at Genoa and landed at Barcelona.  Here he boasted loudly of what he had accomplished.

“Spain and the emperor now united,” he said, “will give the law to Europe.  The emperor has one hundred and fifty thousand troops under arms, and in six months can bring as many more into the field.  France shall be pillaged.  George I. shall be driven both from his German and his British territories.”

From Barcelona Ripperda traveled rapidly to Madrid, where he was received with almost regal honors by the queen, who was now in reality the sovereign.  She immediately appointed him Secretary of State, and transferred to him the reins of government which she had taken from the unresisting hands of her moping husband.  Thus Ripperda became, in all but title, the King of Spain.  He was a weak man, of just those traits of character which would make him a haughty woman’s favorite.  He was so elated with this success, became so insufferably vain, and assumed such imperious airs as to disgust all parties.  He made the most extravagant promises of the subsidies the emperor was to furnish, and of the powers which were to combine to trample England and France beneath their feet.  It was soon seen that these promises were merely the vain-glorious boasts of his own heated brain.  Even the imperial ambassador at Madrid was so repelled by his arrogance, that he avoided as far as possible all social and even diplomatic intercourse with him.  There was a general combination of the courtiers to crush the favorite.  The queen, who, with all her ambition, had a good share of sagacity, soon saw the mistake she had made, and in four months after Ripperda’s return to Madrid, he was dismissed in disgrace.