ordat. But to use
Napoleon's own expression in the decree issued from Vienna on May
seventeenth, 1809, the Western Emperor had already "resumed the grant"
of Charles the Great which had been used against his successor. There
was no longer a hostile strip of land, stretching from sea to sea,
which separated the kingdoms of Naples and Italy, for the three
legations were occupied in December, 1807.

With this fulcrum Bayanne had been moved to negotiate a formal treaty
containing all Napoleon's stipulations. The Pope was exasperated by
the occupation of his lands, and refused his assent to the paper; he
would not even enter the French federative system. This attitude
appears to have been quite as agreeable to the Emperor of the French
as one of submission would have been. Appealing to public opinion on
the ground of necessity, he sent his troops on February second, 1808,
into the city of Rome; in March, Ancona, Macerata, Fermo, and Urbino
were consolidated with the kingdom of Italy; and before the end of
April, the foreign priests were banished, the Pope's battalions were
enrolled under the tricolor, and the guard of nobles was disbanded:
the entire administration was in French hands. For a year the
successor of St. Peter remained a faineant prince shut up in the
Quirinal. To a demand for the resignation of his temporal power he
replied by a bull, dated June tenth, 1809, excommunicating the
invaders of his states; thereupon he was seized and sent a prisoner to
Grenoble. Napoleon, looking backward in the days of his humiliation,
said that this quarrel with the Pope was one of the most wearing
episodes in all his career. It undid much of the web knitted in the
Concordat, by alienating the Roman Catholics both in France itself and
in his conquered or allied lands.

During the same autumn months of 1807 another treaty was negotiated at
Fontainebleau; namely, a secret compact with Spain for the partition
of Portugal. The house of Braganza, like the other so-called
legitimate monarchies of Europe, had fallen into a moral and physical
decline. The Queen was a lunatic, and her son Don John, who was
regent, though a mild and honorable man, lacked every element of
greatness such as would have enabled him to swim in the troubled
waters of his time. The land, moreover, was saturated with democratic
principles. There had been a tacit understanding that on account of
the enormous tribute paid to France for the acknowledgment of
neutra