Surrounded by insurrection, as we have stated them to be, the French generals who had entered Spain entertained no fear but that the experience of their superiority in military skill and discipline, would soon teach the Spaniards the folly of their unavailing resistance. The invading armies were no longer commanded by Murat,[403] who had returned to France, to proceed from thence to take possession of the throne of Naples, vacant by the promotion of Joseph, as in earlier life he might have attained a higher step of military rank, in consequence of regimental succession. Savary, who had, as we have seen, a principal share in directing Ferdinand's mind towards the fatal journey to Bayonne, remained in command at Madrid,[404] and endeavoured, by a general system of vigorous effort in various directions, to put an end to the insurrection, which had now become general wherever the French did not possess such preponderating armed force, as rendered opposition impossible. We can but hint at the character which the war assumed even at the outset, and touch generally upon its more important incidents.

The Spanish Juntas had wisely recommended to their countrymen to avoid general engagements—to avail themselves of the difficulties of various kinds which their country presents to an army of invaders—to operate upon the flanks, the rear, and the communications of the French—and to engage the enemy in a war of posts, in which courage and natural instinct bring the native sharpshooter more upon a level with the trained and practised soldier, than the professors of military tactics are at all times willing to admit. But although this plan was excellently laid down, and in part adhered to, in which case it seldom failed to prove successful, yet on many occasions it became impossible for the Spanish leaders to avoid more general actions, in which defeat and loss were usually inevitable. The character of the insurrectionary armies, or rather of the masses of armed citizens so called, led to many fatal errors of this kind. They were confident in their own numbers and courage, in proportion to their ignorance of the superiority which discipline, the possession of cavalry and artillery, and the power of executing combined and united movements, must always bestow upon regular forces. They were also impatient of the miseries necessarily brought upon the country by a protracted and systematic war of mere defence, and not less unwilling to bear the continued privations to which they themselves were exposed. On some occasions, opposition on the part of their officers to their demand of being led against the enemy, to put an end, as they hoped, to the war, by one brave blow, was construed into cowardice or treachery; and falling under the suspicion of either, was a virtual sentence of death to the suspected person. Sometimes, also, these insurrectionary bodies were forced to a general action, which they would willingly have avoided, either by want of provisions, with which they were indifferently supplied at all times, or by the superior manoeuvres of a skilful enemy. In most of the actions which took place from these various causes, the French discipline effectually prevailed over the undisciplined courage of the insurgents, and the patriots were defeated with severe loss.

On these occasions, the cruelty of the conquerors too frequently sullied their victory, and materially injured the cause in which it was gained. Affecting to consider the Spaniards, who appeared in arms to oppose a foreign yoke and an intrusive king, as rebels taken in the fact, the prisoners who fell into the hands of the French were subjected to military execution; and the villages where they had met with opposition were delivered up to the licentious fury of the soldier, who spared neither sex nor age. The French perhaps remembered, that some such instances of sanguinary severity, in the commencement of the Italian campaigns, had compelled the insurgents of Lombardy to lay down their arms, and secured the advantages which Napoleon had gained by the defeat of the Austrian forces. But in Spain the result was extremely different. Every atrocity of this kind was a new injury to be avenged, and was resented as such by a nation at no time remarkable for forgiveness of wrongs. The sick, the wounded, the numerous stragglers of the French army, were, when they fell into the hands of the Spaniards, which frequently happened, treated with the utmost barbarity; and this retaliation hardening the heart, and inflaming the passions of either party as they suffered by it in turn, the war assumed a savage, bloody, and atrocious character, which seemed to have for its object not the subjection, but the extermination of the vanquished.

The character of the country, very unfavourable to the French mode of supporting their troops at the expense of the districts through which they marched, added to the inveteracy of the struggle. Some parts of Spain are no doubt extremely fertile, but there are also immense tracts of barren plains, or unproductive mountains, which afford but a scanty support to the inhabitants themselves, and are totally inadequate to supply the additional wants of an invading army. In such districts the Marauders, to be successful in their task of collecting provisions, had to sweep a large tract of country on each side of the line of march—an operation the more difficult and dangerous, that though the principal high-roads through Spain are remarkably good, yet the lateral communications connecting them with the countries which they traverse are of the worst possible description, and equally susceptible of being defended by posts, protected by ambuscades, or altogether broken up, and rendered impervious to an invader. Hence it was long since said by Henry IV., that if a general invaded Spain with a small army, he must be defeated—if with a large one, he must be starved; and the gigantic undertaking of Buonaparte appeared by no means unlikely to fail, either from the one or the other reason.

At the first movement of the French columns into the provinces which were in insurrection, victory seemed every where to follow the invaders. Lefebvre Desnouettes defeated the Spaniards in Arragon on the 9th of June; General BessiÈres beat the insurgents in many partial actions in the same month, kept Navarre and Biscay in subjection, and overawed the insurgents in Old Castile. These, however, were but petty advantages, compared to that which he obtained, in a pitched battle, over two united armies of the Spaniards, consisting of the forces of Castile and Leon, joined to those of Galicia.

The first of these armies was commanded by Cuesta, described, by Southey,[405] as a brave old man, energetic, hasty, and headstrong, in whose resolute, untractable, and decided temper, the elements of the Spanish character were strongly marked. His army was full of zeal, but in other respects in such a state of insubordination, that they had recently murdered one of the general officers against whom they harboured some rashly adopted suspicions of treachery. The Galician army was in the same disorderly condition; and they also had publicly torn to pieces their general, Filangieri,[406] upon no further apparent cause of suspicion than that he had turned his thoughts rather to defensive than offensive operations. Blake, a good soldier, who enjoyed the confidence of the army, but whose military talents were not of the first order, succeeded Filangieri in his dangerous command, and having led his Galician levies to form a junction with Cuesta, they now proceeded together towards Burgos. The two generals differed materially in opinion. Cuesta, though he had previously suffered a defeat from the French near Cabezon, was for hazarding the event of a battle, moved probably by the difficulty of keeping together and maintaining their disorderly forces; while Blake, dreading the superiority of the French discipline, deprecated the risk of a general action. BessiÈres left them no choice on the subject. He came upon them, when posted near Medina del Rio Seco, where, on the 14th July, the combined armies of Galicia and Castile received the most calamitous defeat which the Spaniards had yet sustained. The patriots fought most bravely, and it was said more than twenty thousand slain were buried on the field of battle.

Napoleon received the news of this victory with exultation. "It is," he said, "the battle of Villa Viciosa. BessiÈres has put the crown on Joseph's head. The Spaniards," he added, "have now perhaps fifteen thousand men left, with some old blockhead at their head;—the resistance of the Peninsula is ended."[407] In fact, the victory of Medina del Rio Seco made the way open for Joseph to advance from Vittoria to Madrid, where he arrived without molestation. He entered the capital in state, but without receiving any popular greetings, save what the municipal authorities found themselves compelled to offer. The money which was scattered amongst the populace was picked up by the French alone, and by the French alone were the theatres filled, which had been thrown open to the public in honour of their new prince.[408]

In the meantime, however, the advantages obtained by BessiÈres in Castile seemed fast in the course of being outbalanced by the losses which the French sustained in the other provinces. Duhesme, with those troops which had so treacherously possessed themselves of Barcelona and Figueras, seems, at the outset, to have entertained little doubt of being able not only to maintain himself in Catalonia, but even to send troops to assist in the subjugation of Valencia and Arragon. But the Catalonians are, and have always been, a warlike people, addicted to the use of the gun, and naturally disposed, like the Tyrolese, to act as sharp-shooters. Undismayed by several partial losses, they made good the strong mountain-pass of Bruch and other defiles, and, after various actions, compelled the French general to retreat towards Barcelona, with a loss both of men and character.[409]

An expedition undertaken by Marshal Moncey against Valencia, was marked with deeper disaster. He obtained successes, indeed, over the insurgents as he advanced towards the city; but when he ventured an attack on the place itself, in hopes of carrying it by a sudden effort, he was opposed by all the energy of a general popular defence. The citizens rushed to man the walls—the monks, with a sword in one hand, and a crucifix in the other, encouraged them to fight in the name of God and their King—the very women mingled in the combat, bringing ammunition and refreshments to the combatants.[410] Every attempt to penetrate into the city was found unavailing; and Moncey, disappointed of meeting with the reinforcements which Duhesme was to have despatched him from Barcelona, was obliged to abandon his enterprise, and to retreat, not without being severely harassed, towards the main French army, which occupied Old and New Castile.[411]

It was not common in Napoleon's wars for his troops and generals to be thus disconcerted, foiled, and obliged to abandon a purpose which they had adopted. But a worse and more decisive fate was to attend the division of Dupont, than the disappointments and losses which Duhesme had experienced in Catalonia, and Moncey before Valencia.

So early as Murat's first occupation of Madrid, he had despatched Dupont, an officer of high reputation, towards Cadiz, of which he named him governor. This attempt to secure that important city, and protect the French fleet which lay in its harbours, seems to have been judged by Napoleon premature, probably because he was desirous to leave the passage open for Charles IV. to have made his escape from Cadiz to South America, in case he should so determine. Dupont's march, therefore, was countermanded, and he remained stationary at Toledo, until the disposition of the Andalusians, and of the inhabitants of Cadiz, showing itself utterly inimical to the French, he once more received orders to advance at all risks, and secure that important seaport, with the French squadron which was lying there. The French general moved forward accordingly, traversed the chain of wild mountains called Sierra Morena, which the tale of Cervantes has rendered classical, forced the passage of the river Guadalquiver at the bridge of Alcolea, advanced to, and subdued, the ancient town of Cordoba.[412]

Dupont had thus reached the frontiers of Andalusia; but the fate of Cadiz was already decided. That rich commercial city had embraced the patriotic cause, and the French squadron was in the hands of the Spaniards; Seville was in complete insurrection, and its Junta, the most active in the kingdom of Spain, were organising large forces, and adding them daily to a regular body of ten thousand men, under General Castanos, which had occupied the camp of St. Rocque, near Gibraltar.

If Dupont had ventured onward in the state in which matters were, he would have rushed on too unequal odds. On the other hand, his situation at Cordoba, and in the neighbourhood, was precarious. He was divided from the main French army by the Sierra Morena, the passes of which were infested, and might almost be said to be occupied, by the insurgent mountaineers; and he was exposed to be attacked by the Andalusian army, so soon as their general might think them adequate to the task. Dupont solicited reinforcements, therefore, as well from Portugal as from the French army in the Castiles; such reinforcements being absolutely necessary, not merely to his advancing into Andalusia, but to his keeping his ground, or even effecting a safe retreat. Junot, who commanded in Portugal, occupied at once by the insurrection of the natives of that country, and by the threatened descent of the English, was, as we shall hereafter see, in no situation to spare Dupont the succours he desired. But two brigades, under Generals Vedel and Gobert, joined Dupont from Castile, after experiencing some loss of rather an ominous character, for it could neither be returned nor avenged, from the armed peasantry of the Sierra.

These reinforcements augmented Dupont's division to twenty thousand men, a force which was thought adequate to strike a decisive blow in Andalusia, providing Castanos could be brought to hazard a general action. Dupont accordingly put himself in motion, occupied Baylen and La Carolina in Andalusia, and took by storm the old Moorish town of Jaen. The sagacious old Spanish general had, in the meantime, been bringing his new levies into order, and the French, after they had possessed themselves of Jaen, were surprised to find themselves attacked there with great vigour and by superior forces, which compelled them, after a terrible resistance, to evacuate the place and retire to Baylen. From thence, Dupont wrote despatches to Savary at Madrid, stating the difficulties of his situation. His men, he said, had no supplies of bread, save from the corn which they reaped, grinded, and baked with their own hands—the peasants, who were wont to perform the country labour, had left their harvest-work to take up arms—the insurgents were becoming daily more audacious—they were assuming the offensive, and strong reinforcements were necessary to enable him either to maintain his ground, or do any thing considerable to annoy the enemy. These despatches fell into the hands of Castanos, who acted upon the information they afforded.

On the 16th July, two large divisions of the Spaniards attacked the French on different points, and, dislodging them from Baylen, drove them back on Menjibar; while Castanos, at the head of a large force, overawed Dupont, and prevented his moving to the assistance of his generals of brigade, one of whom, Gobert, was killed in the action. On the night of the 18th, another battle commenced, by an attempt on the part of the French to recover Baylen. The troops on both sides fought desperately, but the Spaniards, conscious that succours were at no great distance, made good their defence of the village. The action continued the greater part of the day, when, after an honourable attempt to redeem the victory, by a desperate charge at the head of all his forces, Dupont found himself defeated on all points, and so enclosed by the superior force of the Spaniards, as rendered his retreat impossible. He had no resource except capitulation. He was compelled to surrender himself, and the troops under his immediate command, prisoners of war. But, for the division of Vedel, which had not been engaged, and was less hard pressed than the other, it was stipulated that they should be sent back to France in Spanish vessels. This part of the convention of Baylen was afterwards broken by the Spaniards, and the whole of the French army were detained close prisoners. They were led to this act of bad faith, partly by an opinion that the French generals had been too cunning for Castanos in the conditions they obtained—partly from the false idea, that the perfidy with which they had acted towards Spain, dispensed with the obligations of keeping terms with them—and partly at the instigation of Morla, the successor of the unhappy Solano, who scrupled not to recommend to his countrymen that sacrifice of honour to interest, which he himself afterwards practised, in abandoning the cause of his country for that of the intrusive King.[413]

The battle and subsequent capitulation of Baylen, was in itself a very great disaster, the most important which had befallen the French arms since the star of Buonaparte arose—the furcÆ CaudinÆ, as he himself called it, of his military history. More than three thousand Frenchmen had been lost in the action—seventeen thousand had surrendered themselves,[414]—Andalusia, the richest part of Spain, was freed from the French armies—and the wealthy cities of Seville and Cadiz had leisure to employ a numerous force of trained population, and their treasures in support of the national cause. Accordingly, the tidings which Napoleon received while at Bourdeaux, filled him with an agitation similar to that of the Roman Emperor, when he demanded from Varus his lost legions. But the grief and anxiety of Buonaparte was better founded than that of Augustus. The latter lost only soldiers, whose loss might be supplied; but the battle of Baylen dissolved that idea of invincibility attached to Napoleon and his fortunes, which, like a talisman, had so often palsied the councils and disabled the exertions of his enemies, who felt, in opposing him, as if they were predestined victims, struggling against the dark current of Destiny itself. The whole mystery, too, and obscurity, in which Buonaparte had involved the affairs of Spain, concealing the nature of the interest which he held in that kingdom, and his gigantic plan of annexing it to his empire, were at once dispelled. The tidings of Dupont's surrender operated like a whirlwind on the folds of a torpid mist, and showed to all Europe, what Napoleon most desired to conceal—that he was engaged in a national conflict of a kind so doubtful, that it had commenced by a very great loss on the side of France; and that he was thus engaged purely by his own unprincipled ambition. That his armies could be defeated, and brought to the necessity of surrendering, was now evident to Spain and to Europe. The former gathered courage to persist in an undertaking so hopefully begun, while nations, now under the French domination, caught hope for themselves while they watched the struggle; and the spell being broken which had rendered them submissive to their fate, they cherished the prospect of speedily emulating the contest, which they at present only witnessed.

Yet were these inspiriting consequences of the victory of Castanos attended with some counterbalancing inconveniences, both as the event affected the Spaniards themselves, and the other nations of Europe. It fostered in the ranks of Spain their national vice, and excess of presumption and confidence in their own valour; useful, perhaps, so far as it gives animation in the moment of battle, but most hazardous when it occasions inattention to the previous precautions which are always necessary to secure victory, and which are so often neglected in the Spanish armies.[415] In short, while the success at Baylen induced the Spaniards to reject the advice of experience and skill, when to follow it might have seemed to entertain a doubt of the fortunes of Spain, it encouraged also the most unreasonable expectations in the other countries of Europe, and especially in Great Britain, where men's wishes in a favourite cause are so easily converted into hopes. Without observing the various concurrences of circumstances which had contributed to the victory of Baylen, they considered it as a scene which might easily be repeated elsewhere, whenever the Spaniards should display the same energy; and thus, because the patriots had achieved one great and difficult task, they expected from them on all occasions, not miracles only, but sometimes even impossibilities. When these unreasonable expectations were found groundless, the politicians who had entertained them were so much chagrined and disappointed, that, hurrying into the opposite extreme, they became doubtful either of the zeal of the Spanish nation in the cause for which they were fighting, or their power of maintaining an effectual resistance. And thus, to use the scriptural phrase, the love of many waxed cold, and men of a desponding spirit were inclined to wish the aid of Britain withdrawn from a contest which they regarded as hopeless, and that those supplies should be discontinued, on which its maintenance in a great measure depended.

The event of Baylen was not known at Madrid till eight or ten days after it had taken place; but when it arrived, Joseph Buonaparte, the intrusive King, plainly saw that the capital was no longer a safe residence for him, and prepared for his retreat. He generously gave leave to the individuals composing his administration, either to follow his fortunes, or take the national side, if they preferred it;[416] and leaving Madrid, (3d July,) again retired to Vittoria, where, secured by a French garrison, and at no great distance from the frontier, he might in safety abide the events of the war.

Another memorable achievement of the Spanish conflict, which served perhaps better than even the victory of Baylen, to evince the character of the resistance offered to the French, was the immortal defence of Zaragossa, the capital of Arragon. This ancient city was defenceless, excepting for the old Gothic, or Roman or Moorish wall, of ten feet high, by which it is surrounded, and which is in most places a mere curtain, without flankers or returning angles of any kind.[417] Its garrison consisted chiefly of the citizens of the place; and its governor, a young nobleman, called Don Joseph Palafox, who was chosen Captain-general because he happened to be in the vicinity, had hitherto been only distinguished by the share he had taken in the frivolous gaieties of the court.[418] The city thus possessing no important advantages of defence, and the French general in Arragon, Lefebvre Desnouettes, having defeated such of the insurgents as had shown themselves in the field, he conceived he had only to advance, in security of occupying the capital of the province. But there never was on earth a defence in which the patriotic courage of the defenders sustained so long, and baffled so effectually, the assaults of an enemy provided with all those military advantages, of which they themselves were totally destitute.

On the 15th of June, the French attempted to carry the place by a coup-de-main, in which they failed with great loss. On the 27th, reinforced and supplied with a train of mortars, they made a more regular effort, and succeeded in getting possession of a suburb, called the Terrero. They then began to invest the place more closely, showered bombs on its devoted edifices, and amid the conflagration occasioned by these missiles of destruction, attempted to force the gates of the city at different points. All the Zaragossians rushed to man their defences—condition, age, even sex, made no difference; the monks fought abreast with the laity, and several women showed more than masculine courage.[419]

Lefebvre was incensed by a defence of a place, which, according to all common rules, was untenable. He forgot the rules of war in his turn, and exposed his troops to immense loss by repeatedly attempting to carry the place at the bayonet's point. Meanwhile ammunition ran scarce—but the citizens contrived to manufacture gunpowder in considerable quantities. Famine came—its pressure was submitted to. Sickness thinned the ranks of the defenders—those who survived willingly performed the duty of the absent. It was in vain that the large convent of Santa Engracia, falling into the hands of the besiegers, enabled them to push their posts into the town itself. The French general announced this success in a celebrated summons:—"Sancta Engracia—Capitulation!"—"Zaragossa—war to the knife's blade,"[420] was the equally laconic answer. The threat was made good—the citizens fought from street to street, from house to house, from chamber to chamber—the contending parties often occupied different apartments of the same house—the passages which connected them were choked with dead. After this horrid contest had continued for several weeks, the gallant defence of Zaragossa excited at once the courage and sympathy of those who shared the sentiments of its heroic garrison and citizens, and a considerable reinforcement was thrown into the place in the beginning of August.[421] After this the citizens began to gain ground in all their skirmishes with the invaders; the news of Dupont's surrender became publicly known, and Lefebvre, on the 13th of August, judged it most prudent to evacuate the quarter of the city which he possessed. He blew up the church of Santa Engracia, and set fire to several of the houses which he had gained, and finally retreated from the city which had so valiantly resisted his arms.[422]

The spirit of indomitable courage which the Spaniards manifested on this occasion, has perhaps no equal in history, excepting the defence of Numantium by their ancestors. It served, even more than the victory of Baylen, to extend hope and confidence in the patriotic cause; and the country which had produced such men as Palafox and his followers, was, with much show of probability, declared unconquerable.

It is now necessary to trace the effects which this important revolution produced, as well in England, as in the Portuguese part of the Peninsula.