During no part of his history did Buonaparte appear before the public in a meaner and more contemptible light, than immediately after the commencement of the Spanish revolution. In the deeper disasters of his life, the courage with which he struggled against misfortune, gave to his failing efforts the dignity of sinking greatness; but, on the present occasion, he appeared before France and before Europe in the humiliating condition of one, who had been tempted by selfish greed to commit a great crime, from which he had derived the full harvest of ignominy, without an iota of the expected profit. On the contrary, blinded by the unconscientious desire of acquisition, he had shown himself as shortsighted concerning results, as he was indifferent respecting means.[440] In this, as in other memorable instances, iniquity had brought with it all the consequences of folly.

For some time after his triumphal return to Paris, Buonaparte preserved a total silence on the affairs of the Peninsula, excepting general assurances that all was well;[441] and that the few partial commotions which had been excited by the agents of England, had been every where suppressed by the wisdom of the Grand Council, and the ready concurrence of the good citizens, who saw no safety for Spain save in the renewal of the family compact of the Bourbons, in the more fortunate dynasty of Napoleon. To accredit this state of things, many pieces of news were circulated in the provinces which lay nearest to Spain, tending to depress the spirit and hopes of the insurgents. Thus, M. de Champagny was made to write to the prefect of the department of La Gironde, [8th June,] that George III. of England was dead; that George IV., on succeeding, had made an instant and total change of ministry; and that a general pacification might be instantly expected. The same article, with similar legends, was inserted officially in the Madrid Gazette.[442]

But a system of fiction and imposition resembles an untempered sword-blade, which is not only subject to break at the utmost need of him who wields it, but apt to wound him with the fragments as they spring asunder. The truth began to become too glaring to be concealed. It could not be disguised that the kingdom of Portugal had been restored to independence—that Junot and his army had been driven from Lisbon—that Dupont had surrendered in the south of France—that King Joseph had been expelled from Madrid—and that in almost all the harbours of the Peninsula, which, in the month of March, had been as it were hermetically sealed against the British shipping and commerce, the English were now received as friends and allies. Nor was it possible to conceal, that these blots on the French arms had all taken place in consequence of the unprincipled ambition, which, not satisfied with disposing of the produce and power of Spain, by using the name of her native princes, had prompted Napoleon to exasperate the feelings of the people by openly usurping the supreme power, and had thus converted a submissive and complaisant ally into a furious and inexorable enemy. It was no easy matter, even for the talents and audacity of Napoleon, to venture before the French nation with an official account of these errors and their consequences, however palliated and modified. Accordingly, we must needs say, that not the confession of a felon, when, compelled to avow his general guilt, he seeks to disguise some of its more atrocious circumstances, and apologise for others, sounds to us more poor and humiliating, than the uncandid, inconsistent, and unmanly exposition which Napoleon was at length compelled to mumble forth in his official document, when the truth could no longer be concealed, and was likely indeed to be circulated even with exaggerations.

Suddenly, on the 4th of September, there appeared in the Moniteur, which previously had been chiefly occupied by scientific details, lyrical poetry, or theatrical criticism, a minute and garbled account of the insurrection in Spain. The sanguinary conduct of the insurgents was dwelt upon; the successes obtained by the French armies were magnified; the losses which they had sustained were extenuated or glossed over. Dupont was represented as having behaved like a fool or a traitor. The sufferings of Zaragossa, during the siege, were dwelt upon with emphasis; but on its result the official account remained silent. The most was made of the victory of Medina del Rio Seco, and the retreat of King Joseph from Madrid was ascribed to his health's disagreeing with the air of that capital. There were two reports on the subject of Spanish affairs, both from Champagny, minister of the foreign department, and both addressed to the Emperor. The first was designed to justify the attempt of Napoleon on Spain. It was dated at Bayonne, as far back as the 24th of April, a period when Buonaparte was very little inclined to enter into any reasoning on his right, since, believing he had the power to accomplish his purpose, he did not doubt that the advantage and honour which France would derive from the subjugation of Spain, would sufficiently plead his cause with the Great Nation. But when his first efforts had failed, and further exertions were found inevitably necessary, it became of consequence to render the enterprise popular, by showing that the measures which led to it were founded on policy at least, if not upon moral justice.

To say the truth, the document is contented with arguing the first point. Something is hinted of the Spanish administration having been supposed to nourish hostile purposes towards France, and Godoy's manifesto at the time of the Prussian war is alluded to; but the principle mainly rested upon, and avowed by M. Champagny, is, in plain language, a gross and indecent sophism. "That which policy renders necessary," says the statesman, "justice must of course authorise;" thus openly placing interest in diametrical opposition to that which is honourable or honest; or, in other words, making the excess of the temptation a justification for the immorality of the action. This is the same principle[443] which sends the robber on the high-road, and upon which almost every species of villany is committed, excepting those rare enormities which are practised without any visible motive on the part of the perpetrators. To apply his reasoning to the case, Champagny sets forth the various advantages which France must derive from the more intimate union with Spain—the facilities which such a union afforded for enforcing the continental system against Great Britain—the necessity that Spain should be governed by a prince, on whose faithful attachment France could repose unlimited confidence—and the propriety of recommencing the work which had been the leading object of the policy of Louis the Fourteenth. Having thus shown that the seizing upon the crown and liberties of Spain would be highly advantageous to France, the reporter holds his task accomplished, and resumes his proposition in these remarkable words:—"Policy demands a grand measure from your Majesty—Justice authorises it—the troubles of Spain render it indispensably necessary."

The second report of M. de Champagny held a different and more ominous tone. It was dated Paris, 1st September, and darkly indicated that the gold and machinations of the English had fomented popular intrigues in Spain, which had frustrated the attempt of his Imperial Majesty to render that country happy. The reporter then, in the tone with which a priest addresses the object of his worship, reverentially expostulates with Napoleon, for permitting anarchy to spread over great part of Spain, and for leaving Britain at liberty to say, that her flag, driven from the coasts of the Baltic and of the Levant, floats triumphantly, nevertheless, on the coasts of the kingdom which is the nearest neighbour to France. Having thus indirectly communicated the general fact, that Spain was in insurrection, and that the English fleet rode triumphant on her coasts, the reporter resumes a noble confidence in the power and authority which he was invoking. "No, never, Sire, shall it be thus. Two millions of brave men are ready, if necessary, to cross the Pyrenees, and chase the English from the Peninsula; if the French would combat for the liberty of the seas, they must begin by rescuing Spain from the influence of England."

Much more there is to the same purpose, serving to inform the French people by implication, if not in direct terms, that the Emperor's plans upon Spain had been disconcerted; that he had found unanimous resistance where he had expected unconditional submission; and that the utmost sacrifices would be necessary on the part of France, to enable her ruler to perfect the measures which he had so rashly undertaken. But besides the pressure of Spanish affairs, those of Austria were also hinted at, as requiring France to increase her armies, and stand upon her guard, as that power had been of late sedulously employed in increasing her military strength. The ultimate conclusion founded on these reasonings, was the necessity of anticipating another conscription of eighty thousand men.

The Senate, to whom these reports were sent down, together with a message from the Emperor, failed not to authorise this new draught on the French population; or, it may be said, on her very flesh and life-blood. Like the judge in the drama, but without regret or expostulation, they enforced the demand of the unrelenting creditor. "The court allowed it, and the law did give it."—"The will of France," said these subservient senators, "is the same with the will of her Emperor. The war with Spain is politic, just, and necessary."

Thus armed with all the powers which his mighty empire could give, Napoleon girded himself personally to the task of putting down by force the Spanish insurrection, and driving from the Peninsula the British auxiliaries. But while preparations were making on an immense scale for an enterprise of which experience had now taught him the difficulty, it was necessary for him, in the first place, to ascertain how his relations with the few powers in Europe who had some claim to independence, had been affected by the miscarriage of his Spanish scheme.

Since the treaty of Presburg, by which she lost such a proportion of her power, Austria had lain like a prostrated combatant, whom want, not of will, but of strength, prevents from resuming the contest. In 1806, her friendship became of consequence to Napoleon, then engaged in his contest with Prussia and Russia. The cession of Branau, and some territories about the mouth of the Cattaro, were granted to Austria by France, as in guerdon of her neutrality. But in 1807 and 1808, the government of that country, more vexed and humiliated by the territory and influence which she had lost, than thankful for the importance she had been permitted to retain, began to show the utmost activity in the war department. Abuses were reformed; more perfect discipline was introduced; old soldiers were called to muster; new levies were made on a large scale; armies of reserve were formed, through the Austrian dominions, of the landwehr and national guards, and they were subjected to service by conscription, like the militia of England. The Austrian armies of the line were increased to great magnitude. The Hungarian Diet had voted twelve thousand recruits for 1807, and eighty thousand for 1808; while eighty thousand organised soldiers, of whom thirty thousand were cavalry, constituted the formidable reserve of this warlike nation. Every thing seemed to announce war, although the answers of the Court to the remonstrances of France were of the most pacific tendency.

Yet it was not alone the hostile preparations of Austria which seemed to trouble the aspect of Germany. Napoleon had defeated her efforts and defied her armies, when her force was still more imposing. But there was gradually awakening and extending through Germany, and especially its northern provinces, a strain of opinion incompatible with the domination of France, or of any other foreign power, within the ancient empire.

The disappearance of various petty states, which had been abolished in the convulsion of the French usurpation, together with the general system of oppression under which the whole country suffered, though in different degrees, had broken down the divisions which separated the nations of Germany from each other, and, like relations who renew an interrupted intimacy under the pressure of a common calamity, the mass of the people forgot that they were Hanoverians, Hessians, Saxons, or Prussians, to remember that they were all Germans, and had one common cause in which to struggle, one general injury to revenge. Less fiery than the Spaniards, but not less accessible to deep and impassioned feeling, the youth of Germany, especially such as were engaged in the liberal studies, cherished in secret, and with caution, a deep hatred to the French invaders, and a stern resolution to avail themselves of the first opportunity to achieve the national liberty.

The thousand presses of Germany could not be altogether silenced, though the police of Napoleon was unceasingly active in suppressing political publications, wherever they could exercise influence. But the kind of feeling which now prevailed among the German youth, did not require the support of exhortations or reasoning, directly and in express terms adapted to the subject. While a book existed, from the Holy Scriptures down to the most idle romance; while a line of poetry could be recited from the works of Schiller or GoËthe, down to the most ordinary stall ballad—inuendoes, at once secret and stimulating, might be drawn from them, to serve as watch-words, or as war-cries. The prevailing opinions, as they spread wider and wider, began to give rise to mysterious associations, the object of which was the liberation of Germany. That most generally known was called the Bund, or Alliance for Virtue and Justice. The young academicians entered with great zeal into these fraternities, the rather that they had been previously prepared for them by the Burschenschafts, or associations of students, and that the idea of secret councils, tribunals, or machinations, is familiar to the reader of German history, and deeply interesting to a people whose temper is easily impressed by the mysterious and the terrible. The professors of the Universities, in most cases, gave way to or guided these patriotic impressions, and in teaching their students the sciences or liberal arts, failed not to impress on them the duty of devoting themselves to the liberation of Germany, or, as it was now called, Teutonia.[444]

The French, whose genius is in direct opposition to that of the Germans, saw all this with contempt and ridicule. They laughed at the mummery of boys affecting a new sort of national freemasonry, and they gave the principle of patriotic devotion to the independence of Germany the name of Ideology; by which nickname the French ruler used to distinguish every species of theory, which, resting in no respect upon the practical basis of self-interest, could, he thought, prevail with none save hot-brained boys and crazed enthusiasts.

Napoleon, however, saw and estimated the increasing influence of these popular opinions, more justly than might have been inferred from his language. He knew that a government might be crushed, an army defeated, an inimical administration changed, by violence; but that the rooted principle of resistance to oppression diffuses itself the wider the more martyrs are made on its behalf. The Heir of the Revolution spoke on such subjects the language of the most legitimate of monarchs, and exclaimed against the system of the Tugendbund, as containing principles capable of disorganising the whole system of social society.

The menacing appearance of Austria, and the extension of anti-Gallican principles and feelings through Germany, made it more especially necessary for Buonaparte to secure his hold upon the Emperor of Russia. Trusting little in so important a case to his ministers, Napoleon desired personally to assure himself by a direct communication with the Emperor Alexander, which was willingly acceded to. We have elsewhere assigned some reasons, why such direct conference, or correspondence betwixt sovereigns, tends to degrade their character, without adding any additional security to the faith of their treaties. It is unbecoming their rank to take upon themselves the task of advancing, receding, renouncing, resuming, insisting, and evading, which must occur more or less in all political negotiations. At the same time, they are flattering to princes, as if inferring that they are able to act personally, and free of ministerial control; and in so far have their charms.

Buonaparte and Alexander met at Erfurt on 27th September, with the same appearance of cordiality with which they had parted—their friendship seemed uninjured by a shadow of suspicion. The most splendid festivities celebrated their meeting, and the theatres of Paris sent their choicest performers to enliven the evenings.[445]

Amid all these gaieties politics were not neglected, and Buonaparte found his great ally as tractable as at Tilsit. Alexander not only ratified the transactions of Spain, but also the subsequent act, by which Napoleon appropriated to himself the kingdom of Etruria, which, according to the first draught of the Spanish scheme exhibited at Tilsit, was to have been assigned to the disinherited Ferdinand. The Czar stipulated, however, on his own part, that Buonaparte should not in any shape interfere to prevent Russia from aggrandizing herself at the expense of Turkey. He promised, also, to take an ally's share with Buonaparte, if the quarrel with Austria should come to arms. To this indeed he was bound by treaties; nor was there any way of ridding himself from their obligation. The conferences of Erfurt ended on the 17th of October, and, as they had begun, amid the most splendid did festivities. Among these was an entertainment given to the Emperor on the battle-ground of Jena, where Prussia, the hapless ally of Alexander, received such a dreadful blow.

It is probable, however, notwithstanding all the show of cordiality betwixt the Emperors, that Alexander did not require the recollections which this battle-field was sure to inspire, to infuse into his mind some tacit jealousy of his powerful ally. He even already saw the possibility of a quarrel merging between them, and was deeply desirous that Austria should not waste her national strength, by rushing into a contest, in which he would be under the reluctant necessity of acting against her. Neither did Napoleon return from Erfurt with the same undoubting confidence in his imperial ally. The subject of a match between the Emperor of France and one of the Russian Archduchesses had been resumed, and had been evaded, on account, as it was alleged, of the difference in their religions. The objections of the Empress Mother, as well as of the reigning Empress, were said to be the real reasons—objections founded on the character of Napoleon, and the nature of his right to the greatness which he enjoyed.[446] Such a proposal could not be brought forward and rejected or evaded, with how much delicacy soever, without injury to the personal feelings of Napoleon; and as he must have been conscious, that more than the alleged reason of religion entered into the cause of declining his proposal, he must have felt in proportion offended, if not affronted. Still, however, if their cordiality was in any degree diminished, the ties of mutual interest, which bound together these two great autocrats, were as yet sufficient to assure Napoleon of the present assistance of Russia. To confirm this union still farther, and to make their present friendship manifest to the world, the two Emperors joined in a letter to the King of Great Britain, proposing a general peace; and it was intimated that they would admit the basis of uti possidetis, which would leave all the contracting powers in possession of what they had gained during the war. The proposal, as must have been foreseen, went off, on Britain demanding that the Spanish government and the King of Sweden should be admitted as parties to the treaty.[447]

But the letter of the Emperors had served its turn, when it showed that the ties between France and Russia were of the most intimate nature; and, confident in this, Napoleon felt himself at liberty to employ the gigantic force which he had already put in preparation, to the subjugation of Spain, and to chasing away the "hideous leopards,"[448] as he was pleased to term the English banners, from the Peninsula.

In the meantime, the Spaniards had not been unfaithful to the cause they had undertaken. They had vested the supreme management of the affairs of their distracted kingdom in a Central or Supreme Junta, which, composed of delegates from all the principal Juntas, fixed their residence at the recovered capital of Madrid, and endeavoured, to the best of their power, to provide for resistance against the invaders. But their efforts, though neither in themselves unwise nor mistimed, were seriously impeded by two great causes, arising both from the same source.

The division of Spain, as already observed, into several disunited and almost unconnected provinces and kingdoms, though it had contributed much to the original success of the insurrection, while each province, regardless of the fate of others, or of the capital itself, provided the means of individual resistance, rendered them, when the war assumed a more general character, unapt to obey the dictates which emanated from the Supreme Junta. General Cuesta, whose devoted and sincere patriotism was frustrated by the haughtiness, self-importance, and insubordination of his character, was the first to set an unhappy example of disobedience to what had been chosen as the residence of the supreme authority. He imprisoned two members of the Supreme Junta, because he thought the choice which had been made of them was derogatory to his own authority, as Captain-General of Castile and Leon, and thus set a perilous example of disunion among the patriots, for which his real energy and love of his country were scarce afterwards sufficient to atone.[449]

But besides this and other instances of personal disregard to the injunctions of the Junta, there was another deep and widely-operating error which flowed from the same source. Each province, according to the high sense which the inhabitants entertained of their individual importance, deemed itself adequate to the protection of its own peculiar territory, and did not, or would not, see the necessity of contributing an adequate proportion of the provincial force to the defence of the nation in general. Those who had shown themselves manfully eager, and often successful, in the defence of their own houses and altars, were more deaf than prudence warranted to the summons which called them to the frontier, to act in defence of the kingdom as a whole. They had accustomed themselves, unhappily, too much to undervalue the immense power by which they were about to be invaded, and did not sufficiently see, that to secure the more distant districts, it was necessary that the war should be maintained by the united force of the realm. What added to this miscalculation, was a point in the national character of which William III. of England, when commanding an allied army to which Spain furnished a contingent, had a century before bitterly complained. "The Spanish generals were so proud of the reputation of their troops and their country," said that experienced warrior, "that they would never allow that they were in want of men, ammunition, guns, or the other necessaries of war, until the moment of emergency came, when they were too apt to be found unprovided in all with which they had represented themselves as being well supplied."

The same unhappy spirit of over-confidence and miscalculation now greatly injured the patriotic cause. Levies and supplies, which it had been determined to raise, were too often considered as completed, when the vote which granted them had been passed, and it was deemed unworthy and unpatriotic to doubt the existence of what the national or provincial council had represented as indispensable. In this manner the Spaniards misled both themselves, and their allies, the British, upon the actual state of their resources; and it followed of course, that British officers, once deceived by their representations in such instances, were disposed to doubt of the reality of their zeal, and to hesitate trusting such representations in future.

Notwithstanding these unhappy errors, the Spanish force, assembled for the defence of the kingdom, was perhaps not inadequate to the task, had they been commanded by a general whose superior energies could have gained him undisputed authority, and who could have conducted the campaign with due attention to the species of warfare which the time and the character of the invading army demanded. But unhappily, no Robert Bruce, no Washington, arose in Spain at this period; and the national defence was committed to men whose military knowledge was of a bounded character, though their courage and zeal admitted of no dispute. Yet favourable incidents occurred to balance these great inconveniences, and for a time the want of unity amongst themselves, and of military talent in the generals, seemed to a certain extent compensated by the courage of the Spanish leaders, and the energy of their followers.

The warlike population of Catalonia are, like the Tyrolese, natural marksmen, who take the field in irregular bodies, called Somatenes, or Miquelets.[450] The inhabitants of this country arose in arms almost universally; and, supported by a small body of four thousand men from Andalusia, contrived, without magazines, military chest, or any of the usual materials necessary to military manoeuvres, to raise the siege of Gerona,[451] which had been formed by General Duhesme, and to gain so many advantages over the enemy, that probably, an auxiliary force of English, under such a general as the Earl of Peterborough, adventurous at once and skilful, might, like that gallant leader, have wrested Barcelona, with Monjouy, from the hands of the French, and left the invaders no footing in that important district. The troops might have been supplied from Sicily, where a great British force was stationed, and there was no want of good and experienced officers, competent to the ordinary duties of a general. But that genius, which, freeing itself from the pedantry of professional education, can judge exactly how far insurrectionary allies are to be trusted; that inventive talent, which finds resources where the ordinary aids and appliances are scarce, or altogether wanting, is a gift of very rare occurrence; and unfortunately, there are no means of distinguishing the officers by whom it is possessed, unless chance puts them into a situation to display their qualifications.

Another circumstance favourable for the Spanish cause, was the return of General Romana to Spain, to co-operate in the defence of his country. This nobleman, one of the best soldiers whom Spain had at the time, and a man, besides, of patriotic virtue and excellent talents, commanded that auxiliary body of ten thousand Spanish troops which Buonaparte had prevailed on Godoy to unite with the French army in the north of Europe, in order to secure their absence when he should put his schemes of invasion into execution against their country. These forces, or a large proportion of them, were secluded in the isle of Funen, in the Baltic, with a view to conceal from them all that it did not suit Buonaparte should be known of the events which were agitating Spain. Nevertheless, a dexterous and daring agent, a Catholic priest of Scotch extraction, named Robertson, going ashore in disguise, succeeded in opening a communication[452] between the Spanish general and the British admiral Keates, in consequence of which, and by using bold and skilful combinations, Romana was able to extricate the greater part of his troops from the precarious situation in which they were placed, and finally in embarking them for Spain. It was the intention of this judicious officer to have made this little force of nine or ten thousand men the foundation of a regular army, by forming every regiment into a triple battalion. This he was unable to accomplish, but still his body of veterans inspired the Spaniards with hope and trust.

Three armies had been formed in Spain, designed to co-operate with each other; the sum of their numbers was calculated at 130,000 men, but they certainly did not exceed 100,000 at the very utmost. Their commissariat was in a wretched state, and even before the war commenced, the hardships of scarcity were felt in their camps. Three generals, each with independent authority, (an evil of the country and time,) commanded the Spanish armies. Blake, on the western frontier, extended his line from Burgos to Bilboa, disputing the possession of, and finally maintaining himself in, that capital of Biscay. The headquarters of the central army, under Castanos, were as far back as Soria; while the eastern army, under Palafox, extended between Zaragossa and Sanguesa. So that the wings of the army were advanced towards the frontier; and the centre being drawn back, the whole position had the form of a crescent, with the concave side opposed to the enemy. Strongly posted within the position of Northern Spain, which they retained, the French armies, about sixty thousand men strong, lay protected by the fortresses which they occupied, and awaited the approach of Napoleon, with such a predominating force as should enable them to resume the offensive. The co-operation of a British auxiliary force became now an object of the first consequence; and the conduct of Britain had given every reason to expect that she would make in the Spanish cause, exertions to which she had been yet a stranger.

When the two Emperors of France and Russia met at Erfurt, it had been resolved, as we have said, to offer peace to Great Britain, either in some hope that it might have been made upon terms consistent with Buonaparte's pretensions to universal dominion, and Alexander's views upon Turkey, or in order to assume to themselves the credit of a disposition to pacific measures. A letter was accordingly despatched to the King of England, signed by both Emperors, expressive of their wish for a general peace. The official note in which the British administration replied to this overture, declared that the King of England was willing to treat for peace in conjunction with his allies, the King of Sweden, and those now possessing the supreme power in Spain, and exercising it in the name of Ferdinand VII.[453] The admission of any claim in favour of either of these powers, would have interfered with the plans both of France and Russia. The latter had for her object the possession of Finland, and the former judged that peace with England was chiefly desirable for gaining time to overcome all resistance in Spain; but must become useless if the independence of that country was to be stipulated in the treaty. The negotiation, therefore, broke off on these terms, while Britain, by her share in it, showed a manful resolution to identify her cause with that of the Spanish patriots.

The actions of England bore a part with her professions. It was determined, as we have already seen, to reinforce the Portuguese army with an additional force of ten thousand men, and the whole was placed under the command of General Moore, a darling name in the British army, and the only one (excepting the victor of Vimeiro, had his rank in the service permitted the choice) to whom the public would have looked with confidence for the discharge of a trust so unusually weighty. But although the requisite degree of vigour was shown by the English government, yet they were not yet sufficiently accustomed to the necessity of acting with rapidity in executing their resolutions.

The arrival of General Moore's army had been expected so early as the 21st August, by those having best access to know the purposes of Government; yet Sir John Moore and his army were not in motion, to take part in the Spanish cause, till the beginning of October; and every day which was thus lost in unreadiness and indecision was of the most precious import to the cause of Spain. This procrastination could not be imputed to the general, nor even to the Administration. It was the consequence of want of alertness in the different departments, which had been little accustomed to hurry and exertion, and also of the hesitation apt to influence those who venture for the first time on a great and decisive measure. Even when the expedition arrived, there was uncertainty and delay.

Sir John Moore also, in all other respects one of the most eminent military characters, had embraced an unfavourable idea of the event of the Spanish struggle. He saw the faults and imperfections of their system, and they were of a kind which appeared most peculiarly perilous. Independent generals—an unpaid and ill-fed soldiery—a Supreme Junta which could not obtain obedience—were features which argued a speedy and disastrous conclusion to the contest, when opposed to the disciplined army of France, with which General Moore was so well acquainted, and to whose merits he could give the testimony of experience.

His fears, therefore, predominating over his hopes, yet his wishes alike, and his duty, prompting him to do something for the support of the Spanish cause, he was anxious so to direct his efforts, that he might retreat, in case of need, without suffering any considerable loss. For this purpose, it would have been his desire to have carried round the British army to Cadiz, to assist in the defence of Andalusia, where the sea, in case of disaster, would always be open for their retreat. But the English ministers had formed a bolder and more decisive plan of the campaign;—a plan which might have been decisive of the fate even of Buonaparte himself, at least of his Spanish projects of ambition, if either the Spaniards had acted with the skill which distinguished the victors of Baylen, or the enthusiasm which animated the defenders of Zaragossa, or if the British troops had been able to enter into communication with their armies before they were broken and overwhelmed by the Emperor of the French. This plan directed, that the British forces should proceed at once to the north of Spain, where the principal scene of action was necessarily laid, and thus, co-operate with Blake, and the other Spanish armies, which were destined to cover the capital, and withstand the first effort of the invaders. It was left to the judgment of the commander, either to advance into Spain by land from the frontiers of Portugal, or to transport his troops by sea to Corunna, with the purpose of marching through the province of Galicia, and entering in that manner upon the scene of action.

To accomplish the purpose of government, Sir John Moore deemed it most convenient to divide his forces. He sent ten thousand men, under Sir David Baird, by sea to Corunna, and determined to march himself at the head of the rest of the army, about sixteen thousand, to the north of Spain, from the frontiers of Portugal. The general science of war, upon the most extended scale, seems to have been so little understood or practised by the English generals at this time, that, instead of the country being carefully reconnoitred by officers of skill, the march of the army was arranged by such hasty and inaccurate information as could be collected from the peasants. By their report, General Moore was induced to divide his army into five divisions,[454] which were directed to move upon Salamanca, where, or at Valladolid, they were to form a junction with the forces of Sir David Baird, expected from Corunna. The advance commenced about the 7th of November; but unhappily ere these auxiliaries appeared on the field, the armies of the Spaniards, whom they were destined to support, were defeated, dispersed, and almost annihilated.

There was no hesitation, no mark of indecision, no loss of precious time, on the part of Napoleon. He traversed the earth, as a comet does the sky, working changes wherever he came.[455] The convention at Erfurt broke up on the 14th October; on the 25th of the same month he opened, in person, the session of the Legislative Body; and on the second following day, he set off for the frontiers of Spain.[456] Here he had prepared, in ample extent, all the means of conquest; for, though trusting, or affecting to trust, a great deal to the influence of his fortune and his star, it was his wise and uniform policy to leave nothing to chance, but always to provide means, adequate to the purpose which he meditated.

Nearly a hundred thousand men had been gradually pouring into the position which the French occupied upon the Ebro.[457] The headquarters at Vittoria, honoured with the residence of the intrusive King, was soon more illustrious by the arrival of Buonaparte himself, a week before the British army had commenced its march from Portugal or Corunna.

To destroy the army of Blake, which lay opposed to the right flank of the French, before the Spanish general could be supported by Sir John Moore's forces, became for Buonaparte a matter of instant and peremptory importance. After some previous fighting, a French division, under Marshal Victor, brought the Spanish general to action at the position of Espinosa. The battle continued for three hours in the evening, and was renewed the next day, when the French turned the Spanish position, and Blake, totally defeated, withdrew from the field with the purpose of making a stand at Reynosa, where he had his supplies and magazines.[458]

Meantime the activity of Buonaparte had struck another fatal blow on a different part of the Spanish defensive line. An army, designed to cover Burgos, and support the right flank of Blake's army, had been formed under the command of the Count de Belvidere, a young nobleman of courage, but without experience. He had under his command some remnants of the old Spanish army of the line, with the Walloons and Spanish guards, and a battalion of students, volunteers from Salamanca and Leon. Here also the French were successful. The youths, whom patriotism had brought to the field, could not be frightened from it by danger. They fell in their ranks, and their deaths spread mourning through many a respectable family in Spain.

Burgos was taken, in consequence of Count Belvidere's defeat; and it was by the same calamity rendered easy for the Duke of Dalmatia [Soult] to co-operate with the French generals, who were operating against the unfortunate Blake, with a view to drive him from his place of refuge at Reynosa. Surrounded on every side, the Spanish general saw no safety for the remnant of his forces, excepting in a retreat to Saint Andero, accomplished under such circumstances of haste and confusion, that his army might be considered as totally disorganised and dispersed. The disasters of Blake were the more to be lamented, that they involved the destruction of that fine body of soldiers whom Romana had led from the Baltic, and who, injudiciously brought into action by single battalions, perished ingloriously among the cliffs at Espinosa.[459]

The whole left wing of the Spanish army of defence, which so lately stretched from Bilboa to Burgos, and in support of which the British forces were advancing, was now totally annihilated, and the central army, under Castanos, whose left flank was now completely uncovered, was exposed to imminent danger. The veteran would fain have reserved his forces for a more fortunate time, by falling back and avoiding a battle. But he had been joined by Palafox, who had under his independent authority the army of Arragon; and the Supreme Junta, acting in that particular according to the custom of the French Convention, had despatched a commissioner to his camp, to see that that general performed his duty. This official person, with Palafox and other generals, joined in overpowering Castanos's reasoning, and, by the imputations of cowardice and treachery, compelled him to venture an action.[460]

The battle took place at Tudela, on the 22d November, with all the results which Castanos had dreaded. A great number of Spaniards were killed; guns and baggage were taken; and, for the first time, a considerable number of prisoners fell into the hands of the French.[461] Castanos, with the routed troops of his proportion of the army, escaped to Calatuyud, while Palafox retreated again on the heroic city of Zaragossa, which was destined to suffer further distresses, and acquire additional renown. The road of the invader was now open to Madrid, unless in so far as it might be defended by some forces stationed at the pass of Samosierra, a mountainous defile about ten miles from the city, or as his entrance into the capital might be opposed by the desperate resolution of the citizens themselves. A part of the population placed their hopes on the defence afforded by this defile, not aware how easily, in modern warfare, such passes are either stormed or turned. But most of the citizens assumed the fierce and lowering appearance, which, in the Spaniard, announces an approaching burst of furious violence. Many thousands of peasants arrived from the neighbouring country, to assist, they said, in the defence of the capital; and, animated by the success of the Zaragossans, menaced war to the knife's point. There were about eight thousand troops of the line in Madrid; resistance was undoubtedly possible, and the people seemed determined upon it. A summons from the Supreme Junta called the inhabitants to arms, and the commencement of the preparations for defence was begun with unanimous vigour. For this purpose the pavement of the streets was taken up and converted into barricadoes; the houses were secured, and loopholed for musketry; and the whole body of the population toiled at erecting batteries, not only in the day-time but by torch-light.

Had Palafox commanded in Madrid, the experiment of resistance would, at all risks, have been attempted. But the governor was Don Thomas Morla, the same who succeeded Solano at Cadiz. His subsequent conduct seems to show, that, despairing of the cause of his country, he already meditated an intended change to the side of the usurper; so that the citizens of Madrid, at the moment when they had recourse to his skill and authority, received neither encouragement nor instructions, nor means of defence. We shall presently see in what manner the generous intentions of the people were cheated and baffled.

Amidst the accumulation of disasters which overwhelmed the Spanish cause, Sir John Moore arrived at Salamanca, and Sir David Baird at Astorga, where the latter general halted. The situation of General Moore was extremely embarrassing, and gave him cause for the deepest anxiety. He knew the strength and character of the French armies, and was unwilling to repose too much confidence in the Spaniards, whose wisdom, he contended, was not a wisdom of action or exertion. On the other hand, he well knew the enthusiasm of the English for the Spanish cause, and the high expectations which were founded on his own talents, and on the gallantry of one of the finest armies which ever left Britain; and he felt that something was to be attempted worthy of the character of both. The general voice of the officers and soldiers was also clamorous for being employed. But the defeat of Castanos at Tudela seems to have extinguished the last hope in Sir John Moore's mind, and he at one time determined upon commencing his retreat to Portugal.

Before finally adopting this measure, he thought proper, however, to consult Mr. Frere, the British Minister, whether he thought any good would result from the daring measure of marching on Madrid, instead of retreating to Portugal. The correspondents differed, as might have been expected, from their difference of temperament and habits. Mr. Frere, a scholar and a poet, well known in the world of letters, being attached with enthusiasm to the cause of Spain, was a willing believer in the miracles that might be wrought by the higher and nobler qualities, which found a chord in unison in his own bosom.[462] He advised, as a Spartan would have done, that General Moore should throw all upon the cast, and advance to the succour of Madrid. The general, upon whom the responsibility devolved, viewed the measure in a different light, and his military habits did not permit him to place much confidence in a defence to be maintained by irregular forces against the disciplined armies of France. Yet, urged by his own feelings, and the importunity of the Spanish government, he resolved to try, by an effort against the north-western part of the French army, to answer the double purpose of preventing them from pressing on Romana, who, with indefatigable zeal, was collecting the scattered remains of the Galician army, which had been destroyed under Cuesta, and also of hindering the French from advancing southward to complete the subjugation of the Peninsula.

But while General Moore determined to hazard this bold measure, he saw painfully the danger of drawing upon himself, by adopting it, a predominant force of the enemy, before whom his retreat might be difficult and perilous. Yet he finally ordered Sir David Baird, whose retreat to Corunna was already commenced, again to occupy Astorga, and expressed his intention of hazarding an advance, at whatever risk. But he added these ominous words; "I mean to proceed bridle in hand, for if the bubble bursts, and Madrid falls, we shall have a run for it."[463]

The fate of Madrid was soon decided; but, as is generally believed, not without great treachery on the part of those who had been most apparently zealous for its defence. The passes of Guadarama and Samosierra had fallen into the possession of the French. The latter, on which the people of Madrid had fixed their eyes as on a second ThermopylÆ or Roncesvalles, was cleared of its defenders by a charge of Polish lancers! These melancholy tidings, as they were in correspondence with General Moore's expectations, did not prevent his intended movement on the French lines of communication. By this means he might co-operate with General Romana and his army, and if pressed by superior numbers of the French, the retreat lay through Galicia to Corunna, where the transports were attending for the reception of the troops.

General Moore left Salamanca on the 12th December, and proceeded towards Mayorga, where, on the 20th, he formed a junction with Sir David Baird. Advancing upon Sahagun, the troops received encouragement from a gallant action maintained by the 15th Hussars, five hundred of whom took, cut down, and dispersed, nearly double their own number of French cavalry. All now imagined they were to attack Soult, who had concentrated his forces behind the river Carrion to receive the assault. The British army was in the highest possible spirits, when news were suddenly received that Soult had been considerably reinforced; that Buonaparte was marching from Madrid at the head of ten thousand of his Guards; and that the French armies, who had been marching to the south of Spain, had halted and assumed a direction to the north-west, as if to enclose and destroy the British army.[464] This was exactly the danger which Moore had never ceased to apprehend, even when executing the movement that led to it. A retreat into, if not through Galicia, was the only mode of avoiding the perils by which the British were surrounded. The plan of defending this strong and mountainous province, or at least of effecting a retreat through it with order and deliberation, had been in view for several weeks; Sir David Baird's division of the army passed through it in their advance to Astorga; yet, so imperfect at that time was the British general staff, that no accurate knowledge seemed to have been possessed of the roads through the country, of the many strong military positions which it presents, or of the particular military advantages which it affords for defensive war. Another deficiency, incidental to our service at that period, was the great deficiency of the commissariat department, which had been pointed out so forcibly by Sir Arthur Wellesley, but which had not yet been remedied.[465]

Sufficient exertions in this department might have brought forward supplies from Corunna, and collected those which Galicia itself afforded; and the troops, retiring gradually from position to position, and maintained from their own resources, would have escaped the loss and dishonour of a retreat which resembled a flight in every particular, excepting the terror which accompanies it.

Besides these great deficiencies, a disadvantage of the most distressing kind occurred, from the natural and constitutional aversion of the British army to retrograde movements. Full of hope and confidence when he advances, the English soldier wants the pliability, lightness, and elasticity of character, which enables the Frenchman to distinguish himself during a retreat, by his intelligence, discipline, and dexterity. Chafed, sullen, and discontented, the soldiers next became mutinous and insubordinate; and incensed against the Spaniards, by whose want of zeal they thought they had been betrayed, they committed the most unjustifiable excesses on the unresisting inhabitants. Despite the repeated orders of the commander-in-chief, endeavouring to restrain the passions and soothe the irritation of the soldiers, these disgraceful outrages were continued. It is matter of some consolation, that, losing their character for discipline, they retained that for courage. The French, who had pressed on the British rear, near to Benevente, and thrown across the river a large body of the Imperial cavalry, were driven back and defeated on the 29th December; and, leaving General Lefebvre Desnouettes a prisoner, in future were contented with observing, without pressing upon, the English retreat.[466]

At Astorga, 30th December, the commander-in-chief found about 5000 Spaniards under Romana, the relics of the Galician army. These troops wanted clothing, accoutrements, arms, ammunition, and pay—they wanted, in short, every thing, excepting that courage and devotion to the cause of their country, which would have had a better fate, had fortune favoured desert.

The Spanish general still proposed to make a stand at this rallying point; but whatever might be Romana's own skill, and the bravery of his followers, his forces were not of a quality such as to induce Sir John Moore to halt his retreat, which he now directed avowedly upon Corunna.

The scarcity of provisions required forced marches, and combined, with want of general knowledge of the country in a military sense, to hurry forward the soldiers, who too readily took advantage of these irregular movements to straggle and plunder, inflicting on the friendly natives, and receiving from them in return, the mutual evils which are given and received by invaders in an enemy's country. The weather dark and rainy—the roads blockaded by half-melted snow—the fords become almost impassable—augmented the difficulties of a retreat, resembling that by which a defeated army is forced into a country totally unknown to them, and through which the fugitives must find their way as they can. The baggage of the army, and its ammunition, were abandoned and destroyed. The sick, the wounded, were left to the mercy of the pursuers; and the numbers who in that hour of despair gave way to the national vice of intoxication, added largely to the ineffective and the helpless. The very treasure-chests of the army were thrown away and abandoned. There was never so complete an example of a disastrous retreat.

One saving circumstance, already mentioned, tended to qualify the bad behaviour of the troops; namely, that when a report arose that a battle was to be expected, the courage, nay, the discipline of the soldiers, seemed to revive. This was especially the case on the 6th January, when the French ventured an attack upon our rear-guard near Lugo. So soon as a prospect of action was presented, stragglers hastened to join their ranks—the disobedient became at once subordinate, as if on the parade; and it was made manifest that the call to battle, far from having the natural effect of intimidating to utter dispersion troops already so much disordered, was to the English army the means of restoring discipline, steadiness, and confidence.

The French having declined the proffered engagement, Sir John Moore continued his retreat under the same disadvantageous circumstances, until he arrived at Corunna, the original object of his destination. He was preparing to embark his forces in the transports, which lay prepared for their reception, when his pursuer, Soult, now pressing boldly forward, made it evident that this could not be accomplished unless either by a convention with him, or by the event of a battle, which might disqualify him from opposing the embarkation. Sir John Moore, with the dignity becoming his character, chose the latter alternative, and occupied a position of no great strength in front of the town, to protect the embarkation. The attack was made by the French on the 16th January, in heavy columns, and with their usual vivacity; but it was sustained and repelled on all hands. The gallant general was mortally wounded in the action, just as he called on the 42d Highland regiment to "remember Egypt," and reminded the same brave mountaineers, that though ammunition was scarce, "they had their bayonets."[467]

Thus died on the field of victory, which atoned for previous misfortunes, one of the bravest and best officers of the British army. His body was wrapped in his military cloak, instead of the usual vestments of the tomb; it was deposited in a grave hastily dug on the ramparts of the citadel of Corunna; and the army completing its embarkation upon the subsequent day, their late general was "left alone with his glory."

Thus ended, in the acquisition of barren laurels, plentifully blended with cypress, the campaign, which had been undertaken by so beautiful and efficient an army, under so approved a commander. The delay in sending it to the scene of action was one great cause of its failure, and for that the gallant general, or his memory, cannot be held responsible. Such a force at Salamanca, while the French were unequal in numbers to the Spanish armies, might have had the most important consequences. At a later period, when the patriotic armies were every where defeated, we confess that General Moore, with the ideas which he entertained of the Spaniards, does not seem to us to have been called upon to place the fate of the British army—auxiliaries, it must be observed, not principals in the war—on the same desperate cast by which the natives were compelled to abide. The disasters of the retreat appear to rest on want of knowledge of the ground they were to traverse, and on the deficiency of the commissariat, which, though the army must be entirely dependent on it, was not at that time sufficiently under the control of the commander-in-chief. We owe it to his memory to say, that at the close of his own valuable life, he amply redeemed in his last act the character of the army which he commanded.[468]