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 a good deal of pity for the forlorn and wretched “King,” not unmingled with contempt. Whether the story of the burlesque enacted at the Escorial ever got into the newspapers or otherwise became known to the great public in Spain, I cannot say. But although that Spanish public was not unaccustomed to Court scandals, Isabella managed to sink so low in the estimation of the best part of the Spanish people that when, some years later, she was swept from the throne, the absolute lack of respect for her no doubt made the work of the revolutionary movement against her very much easier than it otherwise would have been. While I am writing this, Isabella is said to enjoy in Paris the life of a Queen in exile. Poor “King” Don Francisco, who in Madrid hung about the Court somewhat like a charity boarder with a title, has recently died a quiet death without leaving a void.

It is impossible to describe the gloom cast upon our Legation by the news of the disastrous battle of Bull Run. I well remember the day when it struck us in Madrid like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. I had, indeed, not anticipated an easy and very speedy suppression of the insurrectionary movement. Although bound to present our case in the most favorable light, I had not, in my representation to the Spanish Government, indulged in any oversanguine prophesies for the near future—mindful of the rule that it is unwise to make confident predictions upon the fulfillment of which your credit depends, unless you are perfectly sure of the fulfillment. I had, therefore, confined myself to insistence upon the immense superiority of our resources, which would command ultimate success. This was tenable enough. But the disaster at Bull Run, as my despatches indicated and the newspapers elaborately described it, went far beyond what we had thought possible. It not only was a disaster, but it appeared as a disgrace. It put in doubt