“The perfidious counsels of the people about you have brought Spain into a very critical condition, and only the Emperor can save it.... You have been too easily led away by the hatred which your late wife had for France, and you have thoughtlessly shared her unjust feelings against my Ministers, your mother, and myself. “I was obliged, in support of my rights as a King and a father, to have you arrested, for your papers contained proof of your crime. But as I am approaching the end of my life, and I was miserable at the idea of my son dying in a dungeon, I let myself be softened by your mother’s tears. And yet my subjects have been upset by the deceitful courses of the faction you formed, and from that time I have had no peace in my life.... “You introduced disorder into my palace, you summoned the Royal Guard against my own person. Your father has been your prisoner; my Prime Minister, whom I created and received into my family, was covered with blood, and taken from one prison to another.... I am King by the right of my fathers. My abdication was due to force and violence. I have nothing to accept from you, nor can I consent to any meeting or to any new and base suggestion on the part of the people about you.” However, Ferdinand was obstinate, and there seemed no chance of a peaceful settlement of the disgraceful family feud. The above letter was dated May 2, 1808, and it was on that day that the historic blow was struck in Madrid for Spain’s emancipation from the French. It was the sight of the young Infante Francisco’s tears at leaving the Palace of Madrid at the call of Napoleon which acted like a match to gunpowder. The valiant Velarde, Daoiz, and Ruiz were martyrs on this occasion, and the dramatic way in which the Spaniards always keep this anniversary shows that those who struck that blow are not forgotten in the land. When Charles IV. heard the news of the riot, he at once thought that it had been instigated by his sons. “Manuel, send for Charles and Ferdinand,” he said, in a firm tone. Napoleon remained in the room restless and gloomy; Charles and Maria Luisa looked worried and anxious. They were all seated when Ferdinand appeared and silently stood alone before them, for his brother was ill in bed. The King then asked his son if he had heard the news from the capital. When Ferdinand replied in the negative, Charles returned vehemently, “Very well, I will tell you,” and rapidly related what had happened. “Judge, then,” he added, “if it be possible to persuade me that you had no part in this? And did you hasten your miserable associates to dethrone me in order to massacre my subjects? Who advised you to this carnage? Do you only aspire to the glory of a tyrant?”