THE WAR IN SPAIN CONTINUED.
1809-1812
Wellington in Spain.--Battle of Talavera.--Retreat of Wellington.
--Complaints of the English.--Remarks of Alison.--Battle of the 3d
of November.--Triumph of Joseph.--Failure of Wellington.--Persistent
Hostility of the British Government.--The Conflict renewed.--Causes
of the Strife.--Conscientiousness of the Antagonists.--Painful Position
of Joseph.--Birth of the King of Rome.--Dispatch from Napoleon.--The
Emperor's Address.--Grandeur of Napoleon.--The Constitution of 1812.
--Letter from Joseph to Napoleon.--Spanish Antipathy to the Duke of
Wellington.--Embarrassments of the British Government.--The Campaign
to Moscow.--Miseries of the Conflict.--Destitution of the Army.--Ciudad
Rodrigo.--Badajoz.--Famine in Spain.--Desperate Condition of Joseph.
In July of 1809 Joseph was in Madrid, with an army of about forty
thousand men. The rest of the French army was widely dispersed. The
Duke of Wellington thought this a favorable opportunity to make a rapid
march and seize the Spanish capital. Collecting a force of eighty-five
thousand troops, he pressed rapidly forward to Talavera, within two
days' march of Madrid. Joseph, being informed of the approach of
this formidable allied army, and that they were expecting still very
considerable re-enforcements, resolved to advance and attack them before
those new troops should arrive. By great exertions he collected about
forty-five thousand veterans, and on the 27th of July found himself
facing his vastly-outnumbering foes, very formidably posted among the
groves and hills of Talavera. For two days the battle raged. It was
fearfully destructive. The allied army lost between six and seven
thousand men, the French between eight and nine thousand. The tall grass
took fire, and, sweeping along like a prairie conflagration, fearfully
burned many of the wounded. The Spaniards and Portuguese were easily
dispersed. They seemed to care but little for the conflict, regarding
themselves as the paid soldiers of England, fighting the battles of
England. But the British troops fought with the determination and
bravery which has ever characterized the men of that race.
At the close of the second day's fight the French troops drew off in
good order, and encamped about three miles in the rear. Though unable
to disperse the army of Wellington, Joseph had accomplished his purpose
in so crippling the enemy as to arrest his farther advance, and thus to
save Madrid. Joseph waited in his encampment for the arrival of Soult,
Ney, and Mortier, who were hastening to his aid. Wellington, finding
that he could place but very little reliance upon his Portuguese and
Spanish allies, decided to retreat, abandoning his wounded to the
protection of some Spanish troops whom he left as a rear-guard, who in
turn abandoned the sufferers entirely and returned to Portugal.
The British complained bitterly of the lukewarmness and even treachery
of their Spanish allies. Alison gives utterance to these complaints in
saying:
"From the moment the English troops entered Spain, they had experienced
the wide difference between the promises and the performance of the
Spanish authorities. We have the authority of Wellington for the
assertion that if the Junta of Truxillo had kept their contract for
furnishing two hundred and forty thousand rations, the Allies would, on
the night of the 27th of July, have slept in Madrid. But for the month
which followed the battle of Talavera their distresses in this respect
had indeed been excessive, and had reached a height which was altogether
insupportable. Notwithstanding the most energetic remonstrances from
Wellington, he had got hardly any supplies from the Spanish generals or
authorities from the time of his entering Spain. Cuesta had refused to
lend him ninety mules to draw his artillery, though at the time he had
several hundred in his army doing nothing. The troops of all arms were
literally starving. During the month which followed the junction of the
two armies, on the 22d of July, they had not received ten days' bread.
On many days they got only a little meat without salt, on others nothing
at all. The cavalry and artillery horses had not received, in the same
time, three deliveries of forage, and in consequence a thousand had
died, and seven hundred were on the sick list.
"These privations were the more exasperating that, during the greater
part of the time, the Spanish troops received their rations regularly,
both for men and horses. The composition of the Spanish troops, and
their conduct at Talavera and upon other occasions, was not such as to
inspire the least confidence in their capability of resisting the attack
of the French armies. The men, badly disciplined and without uniform,
dispersed the moment they experienced any reverse, and permitted the
whole weight of the contest to fall on the English soldiers, who had
no similar means of escape. These causes had gradually produced an
estrangement, and at length a positive animosity between the privates
and officers of the two armies. An angry correspondence took place
between their respective generals, which widened the breach."
A few skirmishes ensued between the contending parties until the 3d of
November, when Joseph, with thirty thousand men, encountered fifty-five
thousand Spaniards. The odds in favor of the Spaniards was so great that
they rushed vigorously upon the French. A battle of four hours ensued.
The Spanish army was broken to pieces, dispersed, trampled under foot.
Twenty thousand prisoners, fifty-five pieces of cannon, and the whole
ammunition of the army were captured by the French.
"Wearied with collecting prisoners," says Alison, "the French at length
merely took the arms from the fugitives, desiring them to go home,
telling them that war was a trade which they were not fit for."
From this conflict Joseph returned in triumph to his capital. It seemed
for a time that no more resistance could be offered, and that his
government was firmly established. Wellington was driven back into
Portugal, and loudly proclaimed that he could place no reliance upon the
promises or the arms of the Spaniards or the Portuguese.
Napoleon had returned from the triumphant campaign of Wagram. Again he
had shattered the coalition in the north, and was upon the pinnacle of
his greatness. The total failure of Wellington's campaign had greatly
disappointed the British people. The Common Council of London petitioned
Parliament for an inquiry into the circumstances connected with this
failure.
"Admitting the valor of Lord Wellington," they said in their address,
"the petitioners can see no reason why any recompense should be bestowed
on him for his military conduct. After a useless display of British
valor, and a frightful carnage, that army, like the preceding one, was
compelled to seek safety in a precipitous flight before an enemy who we
were told had been conquered, abandoning many thousands of our wounded
countrymen into the hands of the French. That calamity, like the others,
has passed without any inquiry, and, as if their long-experienced
impunity had put the servants of the Crown above the reach of justice,
ministers have actually gone the length of advising your majesty to
confer honorable distinctions on a general who has thus exhibited, with
equal rashness and ostentation, nothing but a useless valor."
Still, after an angry debate, in which there was very strong opposition
presented against carrying on the war in Spain, it was finally decided
to prosecute hostilities against Napoleon in the Peninsula with renewed
vigor. The advocates of the measure urged that there was no other point
in Europe where they could gain a foothold to attack Napoleon, and that
by protracting the war there, and drawing down the French armies, they
might afford an opportunity for the Northern powers again to rise in a
coalition against the new regime. These views were very strenuously
urged in the House of Lords by Lord Wellesley, Lord Castlereagh, and
Lord Liverpool. The vote stood sixty-five for the war, thirty-three
against it. It was resolved to concentrate the whole force of England
for a new campaign in the Peninsula. One hundred millions of dollars
were voted to the navy, one hundred and five millions to the army, and
twenty-five millions for the ordnance. The British navy engaged in the
enterprise consisted of a thousand and nineteen vessels of war. In
addition to these forces, the English were to raise all the troops they
could from Spain and Portugal, offering them the most liberal pay, and
encouraging them to all those acts of guerrilla warfare for which they
were remarkably adapted, and which might prove most annoying to the
French communications.
Napoleon, to meet the emergency, had in the Peninsula an army of two
hundred and eighty thousand men ready for service. Slowly the months of
the year 1810 rolled away over that wretched land. There were battles on
the plains and among the hills, sieges, bombardments, conflicts hand to
hand in the blood-stained streets, outrages innumerable, pestilence,
famine, conflagration, misery, death. The causes of the conflict were
clearly defined and distinctly understood by the leading men on each
side. Never was there a more momentous question to be decided by the
fate of armies. England was fighting to perpetuate in England and on
the Continent the old regime of _aristocratic privilege_. France
was fighting to defend and maintain in France and among the other
regenerated nations of Europe, the new regime of _equal rights for all
men_. The intelligent community everywhere distinctly comprehended the
nature of the conflict, and chose their sides. The unintelligent masses,
often blinded by ignorance, deluded by fanaticism, or controlled by
power, were bewildered, and swayed to and fro, as controlled by
circumstances.
The year 1811 opened sadly upon this war-deluged land. It would only
lacerate the heart of the reader to give an honest recital of the
miseries which were endured. No one can read with pleasure the account
of these scenes of blood, misery, and death. Equal bravery and equal
determination were displayed by the French and by the English, and, alas
for man, there was probably much conscientiousness on both sides. There
were religious men in each army, men who went from their knees in prayer
into the battle. There were men who honestly believed that the interests
of humanity required that the government of the nations should be in the
hands of the rich and the noble. There were others who as truly believed
that the old feudal system was a curse to the nations, and that a new
era of reform was demanded, at whatever expense of treasure and blood.
And thus these children of a common father, during the twelve long
months of another year, contended with each other in the death-struggle
upon more battle-fields than history can record.
Joseph, in view of this slaughter and this misery, was at times
extremely wretched. He knew not what to do. Nothing can exceed the
sadness of some of his letters to his brother. To abandon the conflict
seemed like cowardice, and might prove the destruction of the popular
cause all over Europe. To persevere was to perpetuate blood and misery.
Seldom has any man been placed in a position of greater difficulty, but
the integrity, the conscientiousness, and the humanity of the man were
manifest in every word he uttered, in every deed he performed.
"My first duties," said Joseph, "are for Spain. I love France as my
family, Spain as my religion. I am attached to the one by the affections
of my heart, and to the other by my conscience."
Napoleon, wearied with these incessant wars, which were draining the
treasure and the blood of France, thought that if he could connect
himself by marriage with one of the ancient dynasties, he could thus
bring himself into the acknowledged family of kings, and secure such an
alliance as would prevent these incessant coalitions of all dynastic
Europe against France. In March, 1810, the Emperor, having committed the
greatest mistake of his life in the divorce of Josephine--a sin against
God's law, though with him, at the time, a sin of ignorance and of good
intentions--a mistake which he afterward bitterly deplored as the
ultimate cause of his ruin--married Maria Louisa, the daughter of the
Emperor of Austria. This union seemed to unite Austria with France in a
permanent alliance, and for a time gave promise of securing the great
blessing which Napoleon hoped to attain by it. On the 20th of March,
1811, Napoleon wrote to Joseph:
"MONSIEUR MON FRERE,--I hasten to announce to your Majesty that the
Empress, my dear wife, has just been safely delivered of a prince, who
at his birth received the title of the King of Rome. Your Majesty's
constant affection towards me convinces me that you will share in the
satisfaction which I feel at an event of such importance to my family
and to the welfare of my subjects.
"This conviction is very agreeable to me. Your Majesty is aware of my
attachment, and can not doubt the pleasure with which I seize this
opportunity of repeating the assurance of the sincere esteem and tender
friendship with which I am," etc.
On the same day, a few hours later, he wrote again to his brother giving
a minute account of the accouchement, which was very severe. He closed
this letter by saying:
"The babe is perfectly well. The Empress is as comfortable as could be
expected. This evening, at eight o'clock, the infant will be privately
baptized. As I do not intend the public christening to take place for
the next six weeks, I shall intrust General Defrance, my equerry, who
will be the bearer of this letter, with another in which I shall ask you
to stand godfather to your nephew."
In May, Joseph, accompanied by a small retinue, visited Paris, to have a
personal conference with his brother upon the affairs of Spain. He was
much dissatisfied that the French marshals there were so independent
of him in the conduct of their military operations. The result of the
conversations which he held with his brother was, that he returned to
Spain apparently satisfied. He entered Madrid on the 15th of July, in
the midst of an immense concourse of people. The principal inhabitants
of the city, in a long train of carriages, came out to meet him, a
triumphal arch was constructed across the road, and joy seemed to beam
from every countenance. He immediately consecrated himself with new
ardor to the administration of the internal affairs of his realm.
There was very strong opposition manifested by the people of England
against the Spanish war. There were many indications that the British
Government might be forced, by the voice of the people, to relinquish
the conflict. Animated by these hopes, Joseph announced his intention
of calling a Spanish congress, in which the people should be fully
represented, to confer upon the national interests. Wellington was
thoroughly disheartened. His dispatches were full of bitter complaints
against the incapacity of the British Government. Napoleon, in his
address to the legislative body on the 18th of June, 1811, in the
following terms alluded to the war in Spain:
"Since 1809 the greater part of the strong places in Spain have been
taken, after memorable sieges, and the insurgents have been beaten in
a great number of pitched battles. England has felt that the war is
approaching a termination, and that intrigues and gold are no longer
sufficient to nourish it. She has found herself, therefore, obliged to
alter the nature of her assistance, and from an auxiliary she has become
a principal. All her troops of the line have been sent to the Peninsula.
"English blood has, at length, flowed in torrents in several actions
glorious to the French arms. This conflict with Carthage, which seemed
as if it would be decided on fields of battle on the ocean or beyond the
seas, will henceforth be decided on the plains of Spain. When England
shall be exhausted, when she shall at last have felt the evils which for
twenty years she has with so much cruelty poured upon the Continent,
when half her families shall be in mourning, then shall a peal of
thunder put an end to the affairs of the Peninsula, the destinies of her
armies, and avenge Europe and Asia by finishing this second Punic
War."[U]
[Footnote U: Moniteur, Jan. 11, 1811.]
At the close of the year 1811 Napoleon stood upon the highest pinnacle
of his power. Coalition after coalition had been shattered by his
armies, and now he had not an avowed foe upon the Continent. The Emperor
of Russia was allied to him by the ties of friendship; the Emperor of
Austria by the ties of relationship. Other hostile nations had been too
thoroughly vanquished to attempt to arise against him, or, by political
regeneration, had been brought into sympathy with the new regime in
France.
The English, aided by their resistless fleet, still held important
positions in Portugal. They however had no foothold in Spain excepting
at Cadiz, situated upon the island of Leon, upon the extreme southern
point of the Peninsula. The usual population of the city of Cadiz was
one hundred and fifty thousand. But this number had been increased by a
hundred thousand strangers, who had thrown themselves into the place.
About fifty thousand troops under Marmont were besieging the city. The
garrison defending Cadiz consisted of about twenty thousand men, five
thousand of whom were English soldiers. The British fleet was also in
its harbor, with encouragement and supplies. Here and there predatory
bands occasionally appeared, but this was nearly all the serious
opposition which was then presented to the reign of Joseph. The French
lines encompassing the city were thirty miles in length, extending from
sea to sea.
To the great chagrin of England, the Spanish leaders in Cadiz convened a
Congress, which formed a constitution, called the Constitution of 1812,
far more radically democratic than even Napoleon could advocate for
Spain. Wellington was exceedingly vexed, and complained bitterly of this
conduct on the part of the men whose battle he assumed to be fighting.
"The British Government were well aware," says Alison, "while democratic
frenzy was thus reigning triumphant at Cadiz, from the dispatches of
their ambassador there, the Honorable H. Wellesley, as well as from
Wellington's information of the dangerous nature of the spirit which had
been thus evolved, that they had a task of no ordinary difficulty to
encounter in any attempt to moderate its transports."[V]
[Footnote V: Alison, vol. iii. p. 407.]
Joseph grew more and more disheartened. All his plans for the
pacification of the country were baffled. On the 23d of March, 1812, he
wrote to his brother from Madrid as follows:
"SIRE,--When a year ago I sought the advice of your Majesty before
coming back to Spain, you urged me to return. It is therefore that I am
here. You had the kindness to say to me that I should always have the
privilege of leaving the country if the hopes we had conceived should
not be realized. In that case your Majesty assured me of an asylum in
the south of the Empire, between which and Mortfontaine I could divide
my residence.
"Events have disappointed my hopes. I have done no good, and I have no
longer any hopes of doing any. I entreat, then, your Majesty to permit
me to resign to his hands the crown of Spain, which he condescended to
transmit to me four years ago. In accepting the crown of this country, I
never had any other object in view than the happiness of this vast
monarchy. It has not been in my power to accomplish it. I pray your
Majesty to receive me as one of his subjects, and to believe that he
will never have a more faithful servant than the friend whom nature has
given him."
The resignation was not then accepted, and circumstances soon became
such that Joseph felt that he could not with honor withdraw from the
post he occupied.
The Spaniards looked with great distrust upon the Duke of Wellington,
who was the embodiment of the principles of aristocracy, the more to be
feared in consequence of his inflexible will. The English deemed the
re-enthronement of Ferdinand VII. and his despotic sway essential to the
success of their cause. The uncrowned King and his brother Don Carlos
were living very sumptuously and contentedly, chasing foxes and hares at
Valencay, and cutting down the park to build bonfires in celebration of
Napoleon's victories.
The British Government, alarmed in view of the democratic spirit
unexpectedly developed by a portion of the Spanish allies, sent a secret
agent, Baron Rolli, a man of great sagacity, address, and intrepidity,
to persuade Ferdinand to violate his pledge of honor, to escape from
Valencay, and place himself at the head of the Spaniards who were in
opposition to Joseph. It was hoped that this would awaken new enthusiasm
on the part of the Church and the advocates of the old regime, and that
it would check the spirit of ultra democracy which was threatening to
sweep every thing before it.
The nearest approach to an honorable deed to which Ferdinand ever came,
was in the very questionable act of revealing the plot to the French
Government. Rolli was arrested and sent to Vincennes. The democratic
leaders in Cadiz were so incensed against what Alison calls "the orderly
spirit of aristocratic rule in England," that, burying their animosity
against the French invasion, they almost welcomed those foreign armies,
who bore everywhere upon their banners "Equal Rights for all Men." They
opened secret negotiations with Joseph, offering to surrender Cadiz to
the French troops, and to secure the entire submission of the whole
peninsula to the government of Joseph if he would accept the radical
Constitution of 1812 in place of the more moderate Republicanism of the
Constitution of Bayonne. The hostility of the Spanish generals and
soldiers to Wellington and the English troops was bitter and
undisguised.[W]
[Footnote W: Napier, v. 406, 407.]
But more bloody scenes soon ensued. Napoleon, deeming the war in Spain
virtually ended, had been induced to withdraw large numbers of his
troops, and to embark in his fatal campaign to Moscow. Thus Russia
became allied to England, and a new opportunity, under more favorable
auspices, was afforded to renew the war in Spain. England concentrated
her mightiest energies upon the Peninsula against the remnants of the
French army which Napoleon had left there. The Emperor, with all his
chosen troops, composing an army of over five hundred thousand men, was
on the march thousands of miles toward the north. On the 9th of May,
1812, the Emperor left Paris, to place himself at the head of his troops
in Dresden. The war in Spain was now urged by the British Government
with renovated fury. The mind is wearied and the heart is sickened, in
reading the recital of sieges, and battles, and outrages which make a
humane man to exclaim, in anguish of spirit, "O Lord, how long! how
long!" Equal ferocity was upon both sides. French, English, Spanish, and
Portuguese soldiers, maddened by passion and inflamed with intoxicating
drinks, perpetrated deeds which fiends could scarcely exceed. Tortosa,
Tarragona, Mauresa, Saguntum, Valencia, Badajoz, Ciudad Rodrigo, and a
score of other places, testified to the bravery, often the tiger-like
ferocity, of the contending parties, and to the misery which man can
inflict upon his brother-man.
Physical bravery is the cheapest and most vulgar of all earthly virtues.
The vilest rabble gathered from the gutters of any city can, by a few
months of military discipline and experience in the horrors of war,
become so reckless of danger that bullets, shells, and grapeshot are as
little regarded as snowflakes. Robber bands and piratic hordes will
often fight with ferocity and desperation which can not be surpassed. It
is the cause alone which can ennoble the heroism of the battle-field. In
these terrific conflicts, especially when the French and the British
troops were brought into contact, there often were exhibited all the
energy and desperation of which human nature is capable.
As the Emperor set out on the Russian campaign, he invested Joseph with
the command of the armies in Spain. These troops were widely dispersed,
to protect different points in the kingdom. But few could be promptly
rallied upon any one field of battle. The Emperor, burdened with the
expense of his immense army, and far away amidst the wilds of Russia,
could give but little attention to the affairs of Spain, and could send
neither money nor supplies to his brother, who was so uneasily settled
upon an impoverished throne. As days of darkness gathered around the
Emperor, a sense of honor prevented Joseph from abandoning his post. His
troops were everywhere in a state of great destitution and suffering.
His humane heart would not allow him to wrest supplies from the people,
who were often in a still greater state of poverty and want.
[Illustration: SACK OF CIUDAD RODRIGO.]
Marshal Massena had entered Portugal with an army of seventy-five
thousand men. Reduced by sickness and destitution, he was compelled
to withdraw with but thirty-five thousand men. Thus the English army,
no longer held in check, occupied Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz.[X]
[Footnote X: Encyclopaedia Americana, article Joseph Bonaparte.]
Three thousand men were left in garrison at Ciudad Rodrigo. Forty
thousand men under Wellington besieged it. After opening two practicable
breaches, Wellington summoned a surrender. The French general, Barrie,
replied:
"His Majesty, the Emperor, has intrusted me with the command of Ciudad
Rodrigo. I and my garrison are resolved to bury ourselves beneath the
ruins."
The place was taken by assault, the British troops rushing into the
breaches with courage which could not have been surpassed. The French,
after losing half their number, were overpowered. The victorious British
soldiers, forgetting that the inhabitants of the city were their allies,
pillaged the houses and the shops, and committed every conceivable
outrage upon the inhabitants. Sir Archibald Alison thus describes the
scene:
"The churches were ransacked, the wine and spirit cellars pillaged, and
brutal intoxication spread in every direction. Soon flames were seen
bursting in several quarters. Some houses were burned to the ground,
others already ignited. By degrees, however, the drunken men dropped
down from excess of liquor, or fell asleep; and before morning a degree
of order was restored."
Advancing from Ciudad Rodrigo, Wellington, at the head of a force then
numbering sixty thousand men, laid siege to Badajoz, crossing the
Guadiarra above and below the city. The garrison in the city consisted
of but forty-five hundred combatants. The trenches were opened upon the
night between the 17th and 18th of March. There was no more desperate
fighting during all the wars of Napoleon than was witnessed within and
around the walls of Badajoz. The British lost five thousand officers and
men ere the city was captured. Again had the Spaniards bitter cause to
mourn over the victory of those who called themselves their allies. As
the British troops rushed into the streets of this Spanish city which
they had professedly come to rescue from the government of Joseph
Bonaparte, Alison says:
"Disorders and excesses of every sort prevailed, and the British
soldiery showed, by their conduct after the storm, that they inherited
their full share of the sins as well as the virtues of the children of
Adam. The disgraceful national vice of intemperance, in particular,
broke forth in its most frightful colors. All the wine shops and vaults
were broken open and plundered. Pillage was universal. Every house
was ransacked for valuables, spirits, or wine; and crowds of drunken
soldiers for two days and nights thronged the streets, while the
breaking open of doors and windows, the report of casual muskets, and
the screams of despoiled citizens resounded on all sides."
The throne of Joseph was now enveloped in gloom. To add to his trouble
and anguish of spirit, a dreadful famine afflicted Spain. But the
British fleet, in undisputed command of the seas, could convey ample
supplies to the army of Wellington, and British gold was lavished in
keeping alive the flames of insurrection. Troops were landed at various
points, and resistance to the French was encouraged by every means in
the power of the British Government. At Madrid every morning there were
found in the streets many dead bodies of those who had perished during
the night. The French in the capital, animated by the benevolent spirit
of Joseph, imposed upon themselves the severest sacrifices to succor the
perishing. The situation of Joseph had become deplorable. The best
troops were withdrawn for the Russian campaign. Those which remained
were starving, and without means of transport. A new government, under
the protection of the English, was organized at Cadiz, and guerrilla
bands were springing up in all directions.
Joseph had but about twenty thousand troops in the vicinity of Cadiz,
with which force he could be but little more than a spectator of events
as they should occur. Wellington had a highly-disciplined army of sixty
thousand men, independent of the guerrilla bands whom he could summon to
his aid.