The government and generals of Spain, at the period of the battle of
Talavera, were more than usually tardy and feeble in all their measures.
After the battle, Sir A. Wellesley was disabled from pursuing his
advantages, and (when he was obliged, by General Cuesta’s extraordinary
conduct, to retreat,) his army was almost exhausted, for want of those
means of transport which the Spanish authorities had liberally promised
him, and which, in fact, they could have furnished in sufficient
abundance. While the guns taken at Talavera were in the possession of
the English, the Spanish General could not be induced to afford the
means of drawing them; but when, on this account, the English were
forced to abandon them, the Spaniards easily found cattle for their
conveyance. So, when the British army laid down its ammunition for want
of means to carry it, the Spaniards found no difficulty in bringing it
away for their own use[2]. The correspondence between Sir A. Wellesley,
Lord Wellesley, and M. de Garay, in 1809, afford many similar proofs of
the _coldness_ of the government of our allies; though it is now clear
that it did not exist (as Sir J. Moore seems to have supposed) in all
classes: the lower orders, and not a few of the higher, have all along
exhibited irrefragable proofs of the warmest enthusiasm, and the most
patriotic devotion. There have been, and there still are, a great number
of persons in Spain, who, to say the best of them, are inclined to
_temporize_; and too many of this class have found means to influence
the national operations.--In spite of them, however, the spirit of the
people may save their country; and I shall not despair, however
‘Princes and Lords may flourish or may fade,’ of the cause of Spain,
till ‘the bold peasantry, its country’s pride,’ shall have passed under
the usurper’s yoke.