[Sidenote: Memoir of O’Farril, and Azanza.]
Joseph being proclaimed king, required the council of Castile to
take the oath of allegiance prescribed by the constitution; but
with unexpected boldness, that body, hitherto obedient, met his
orders with a remonstrance. War, virtually declared on the 2d of
May, was at this time raging in all parts of the peninsula, and the
council was secretly apprized that a great misfortune had befallen
the French arms. It was no longer a question between Joseph and
some reluctant public bodies, but an awful struggle between
great nations; and how the spirit of insurrection breaking forth
simultaneously in every province was nourished in each, until it
acquired the consistence of regular warfare, I shall now relate.
Just before the tumult of Aranjuez, the marquis of Solano y Socoro,
commanding the Spanish auxiliary force in the Alentejo, received
orders from Godoy to withdraw from that country with his division,
and to post it on the frontier of Andalusia, to cover the projected
journey of Charles IV. Napoleon was aware of these orders, but
would not interrupt their execution. Solano quitted Portugal
without difficulty, and in the latter end of May, observing the
general agitation, repaired to his government of Cadiz, where a
French squadron[5], under admiral Rossily, had just before taken
refuge from the English fleet. As Solano passed through Seville
(that city being in a state of great ferment), he was required to
put himself at the head of an insurrection in favour of Ferdinand
VII. He refused, and passed on to his own government; but there
also the people were ripe for a declaration against the French;
and a local government having been in the mean time established
at Seville, the members at once assumed the title of the “Supreme
Junta of Spain and the Indies,” declared war in form against the
intrusive monarch, commanded all men between the ages of sixteen
and forty-five to take arms, called upon the troops of the camp
of St. Roch to acknowledge their authority, and ordered Solano
to attack the French squadron. That unfortunate man hesitated
to commit his country in a war with a power whose strength and
means he was better acquainted with than the temper of his own
countrymen, and was instantly murdered: he died with a courage
worthy of his amiable and unblemished character. There is too much
reason to believe that his death was coolly projected, and that the
junta at Seville sent an agent to Cadiz for the express purpose of
exciting the populace to commit this odious assassination.
This foul stain upon the cause was intensely deepened by the
perpetration of similar or worse deeds in every part of the
kingdom. At Seville the conde d’Aguilar was dragged from his
carriage, and, without even the imputation of guilt, inhumanly
butchered; and here again it is said that the mob were instigated
by a leading member of the junta, count Gusman de Tilly, a man
described as “capable of dishonouring a whole nation by his
crimes,” while his victim was universally admitted to be virtuous
and accomplished.
[Sidenote: Sir Hew Dalrymple’s correspondence.]
As early as April, general Castaños (then commanding the camp of
St. Roch) had entered into communication with sir Hew Dalrymple,
the governor of Gibraltar; he was resolved to seize any
opportunity that offered to resist the French, and he appears
to have been the first, if not the only Spaniard, who united
patriotism with prudent calculation, readily acknowledging the
authority of the junta of Seville, and stifling the workings of
self-interest with a virtue by no means common to his countrymen
at that period. When the insurrection first broke out, admiral
Purvis, commanded the British squadron off Cadiz, and in concert
with general Spencer (who happened to be in that part of the world
with five thousand men), offered to co-operate with Solano, if he
would assail the French ships of war in the harbour: upon the death
of that unfortunate man, this offer was renewed and pressed upon
don Thomas Morla, his successor; but he, for reasons hereafter
to be mentioned, refused all assistance, and reduced the hostile
ships himself. Castaños, on the contrary, united closely with all
the British commanders, and obtained from them supplies of arms,
ammunition, and money; and at the insistence of sir Hew Dalrymple,
the merchants of Gibraltar advanced a loan for the service of the
Spanish patriots[6].
[Sidenote: Moniteur. Azanza an O’Farril. Nellerto.]
Meanwhile the assassinations at Cadiz and Seville were imitated
in every part of Spain; hardly can a town be named in which
some innocent and worthy persons were not slain. Grenada had
its murders; Carthagena rivalled Cadiz in ruthless cruelty; and
Valencia was foul with slaughter. Don Miguel de Saavedra, the
governor of that city, was killed, not in the fury of the moment,
for he escaped the first danger and fled, but being pursued and
captured, was brought back and deliberately sacrificed. Balthazar
Calvo, a canon of the church of St. Isidro, then commenced a
massacre of the French residents. For twelve days unchecked he
traversed the streets of Valencia, followed by a band of fanatics,
brandishing their knives, and filling all places with blood: many
hundred helpless people fell the victims of his thirst for murder;
and at last, emboldened by the impunity he enjoyed, Calvo proceeded
to threaten the junta itself; but there his career was checked.
Those worthy personages, who (with the exception of Mr. Tupper, the
English consul, then a member), had calmly witnessed his previous
violence, at once found the means to crush his power when their own
safety was concerned. The canon, being in the act of braving their
authority, was seized by stratagem, imprisoned, and soon afterwards
strangled, together with two hundred of his band.
The conde de Serbelloni, captain-general of the province, placed
himself at the head of the insurrection, and proceeded to organise
an army; and at the same time the old count Florida Blanca assumed
the direction of the Murcian patriots, and those two kingdoms acted
cordially together.
In Catalonia the occupation of Barcelona impeded the development of
the popular effervescence, but the feeling was the same, and the
insurrection breaking out at the town of Manresa, soon spread to
all the unfettered parts of the province.
In Aragon the arrival of don Joseph Palafox kindled the fire of
patriotism; he had escaped from Bayonne, and his family were
greatly esteemed in a country where it was of the noblest among a
people absurdly vain of their ancient descent. The captain-general,
fearful of a tumult, ordered Palafox to quit the province. This
circumstance, joined to some appearance of mystery in his escape,
inflamed the passions of the multitude; they surrounded his abode,
and forced him to put himself at their head: the captain-general
was displaced and confined, some persons were murdered, and a junta
was formed. Palafox was considered by his companions as a man of
slender capacity and great vanity, and there is nothing in his
exploits to create a doubt of the justness of this opinion. It was
not Palafox that upheld the glory of Aragon, it was the spirit of
the people, which he had not excited, and could so little direct,
that for a long time after the commencement of the first siege, he
was kept a sort of prisoner in Zaragoza; and evident distrust of
his courage and fidelity was displayed by the population which he
is supposed to have ruled.
The example of Aragon aroused the Navarrese, and Logroño became the
focus of an insurrection which extended along most of the valleys
of that kingdom. In the northern and western provinces the spirit
of independence was equally fierce, and as decidedly pronounced,
accompanied also by the same brutal excesses. In Badajos the conde
de la Torre del Frenio was butchered by the populace, and his
mangled carcass dragged through the streets in triumph. At Talavera
de la Reyna, the corregidor with difficulty escaped a similar
fate by a hasty flight. Leon presented a wide, unbroken scene of
anarchy. In Valladolid, and all the great towns, the insurgent
patriots laid violent hands upon every person who did not instantly
concur in their wishes, and pillage was added to murder.
Gallicia seemed to hold back for a moment; but the example of
Leon, and the arrival of an agent from the Asturias, where the
insurrection was in full force, produced a general movement.
Filanghieri, the governor of Coruña, an Italian by birth, was
by a tumultuous crowd called upon to exercise the rights of
sovereignty, and to declare war in form against the French: like
every man of sense in Spain, he was unwilling to commence such an
important revolution upon such uncertain grounds; the impatient
populace instantly attempted his life, which was then saved by
the courage of an officer of his staff; but his horrible fate
was only deferred. He was a man of talent, sincerely attached to
Spain, and he exerted himself with success in establishing a force
in the province: no suspicion of guilt seems to have attached to
his conduct, and his death marks the temper of the times and the
inherent ferocity of the people. A part of the regiment of Navarre
seized him at Villa Franca del Bierzo, planted the ground with
their bayonets, and then tossing him in a blanket, let him fall on
the points thus disposed, and there leaving him to struggle, they
dispersed and retired to their own homes.
The Asturians were the first who proclaimed their indefeasible
right of choosing a new government when the old one ceased to
afford them protection. Having established a local junta, and
invested it with all the functions of royalty, they declared war
against the French, and despatched deputies to England to solicit
assistance.
In Biscay and the Castiles, fifty thousand bayonets overawed the
great towns; but the peasantry commenced a war in their own manner
against the stragglers and the sick, and thus a hostile chain
surrounding the French army was completed in every link.
This universal and nearly simultaneous effort of the Spanish people
was beheld by the rest of Europe with astonishment and admiration:
astonishment at the energy thus suddenly put forth by a nation
hitherto deemed unnerved and debased; admiration at the devoted
courage of an act, which, seen at a distance, and its odious
parts unknown, appeared with all the ideal beauty of Numantian
patriotism. In England the enthusiasm was unbounded; dazzled
at first with the splendour of such an agreeable, unlooked-for
spectacle, men of all classes gave way to the impulse of a generous
sympathy, and forgot, or felt disinclined to analyse, the real
causes of this apparently magnanimous exertion. But without wishing
to detract from the merit of the Spanish people, and certainly that
merit was very great, it may be fairly doubted if the disinterested
vigour of their character was the true source of their resistance.
Constituted as modern states are, with little in their systems of
government or education which conduces to nourish intense feelings
of patriotism, it would be miraculous indeed if such a result was
obtained from the pure virtue of a nation, which for two centuries
had groaned under the pressure of civil and religious despotism.
It was, in fact, produced by several co-operating causes, many of
which were any thing but commendable.
The Spanish character, with relation to public affairs, is
distinguished by inordinate pride and arrogance. Dilatory and
improvident, the individual as well as the mass, all possess an
absurd confidence that every thing is practicable which their
heated imagination suggests; once excited, they can see no
difficulty in the execution of a project, and the obstacles they
encounter are attributed to treachery; hence the sudden murder
of so many virtuous men at the commencement of this commotion.
Kind and warm in his attachments, but bitter in his anger, the
Spaniard is patient under privations, firm in bodily suffering,
prone to sudden passion, vindictive, bloody, remembering insult
longer than injury, and cruel in his revenge. With a strong natural
perception of what is noble, his promise is lofty, but as he
invariably permits his passions to get the mastery of his reason,
his performance is mean.
In the progress of this war the tenacity of vengeance peculiar to
the nation supplied the want of cool, persevering intrepidity;
but it was a poor substitute for that essential quality, and
led rather to deeds of craft and cruelty than to daring acts of
patriotism. Now the abstraction of the royal family, and the
unexpected pretension to the crown, so insultingly put forth by
Napoleon, aroused all the Spanish pride. The tumults of Madrid
and Aranjuez had agitated the public mind, and prepared it for a
violent movement, and the protection afforded by the French to
the obnoxious Godoy increased the ferment of popular feeling:
a dearly cherished vengeance was thus frustrated at the moment
of its expected accomplishment, and the disappointment excited
all that fierceness of anger which with Spaniards is, for the
moment, uncontrollable. Just then the tumult of Madrid, swollen
and distorted, wrought the people to frenzy, and they arose with
one accord, not to meet a danger the extent of which they had
calculated, and were prepared, for the sake of independence, to
confront, but to gratify the fury of their hearts, and to slake
their thirst of blood.
[Sidenote: Napoleon’s Memoires, Campagne d’Italie, Venise.]
During Godoy’s administration the property of the church had been
trenched upon, and it was evident, from the example of France
and Italy, that, under the new system, that operation would be
repeated. This was a matter that involved the interests, and,
of course, stimulated the activity of a multitude of monks and
priests, who found no difficulty in persuading an ignorant and
bigoted people that the aggressive stranger was also the enemy
of religion and accursed of God; hence processions, miracles,
prophecies, distribution of reliques, and the appointment of saints
to the command of the armies, were freely employed to fanaticize
the mass of the patriots. In every part of the peninsula the
clergy were distinguished for their active zeal, and monks or
friars were leaders in the tumults, or at the side of those who
were instigating them to barbarous actions. Buonaparte found the
same cause produce similar effects during his early campaigns in
Italy; and if the shape of that country had been as favourable for
protracted resistance, and that a like support had been afforded to
them by Great Britain, the heroes of Spain would have been rivalled
by modern Romans!
[Sidenote: Appendix, No. 9.]
The continental system of mercantile exclusion was another spring
of this complicated machinery. It threatened to lessen the already
decayed commerce of the maritime towns; but the contraband trade,
which has always been carried on in Spain to an incredible extent,
was certain of destruction; and with that trade the fate of one
hundred thousand excise and custom-house officers was involved.
It required but a small share of penetration to perceive, that
a system of armed revenue officers, organized after the French
manner, and stimulated by a vigorous administration, would
quickly put an end to the smuggling, which was, in truth, only a
consequence of the monopolies and internal restrictions upon the
trade of one province with another--vexations abolished by the
constitution of Bayonne: hence all the activity and intelligence
of the merchants engaged in foreign trade, and all the numbers and
lawless violence of the smugglers, were enlisted in the cause of
the country, and swelled the ranks of the insurgent patriots; and
hence also the readiness of the Gibraltar merchants to advance the
loan before spoken of.
The state of civilisation in Spain was likewise exactly suited to
an insurrection: if the people had been a little more enlightened,
they would have joined the French; if very enlightened, the
invasion could not have happened at all; but, in a country where
the comforts of civilized society are less needed, and therefore
less attended to than in any other part of Europe, where the warmth
and dryness of the climate render it no sort of privation or even
inconvenience to sleep for the greatest part of the year in the
open air, and where the universal custom is to go armed, it was not
difficult for any energetic man to assemble and keep together large
masses of the credulous peasantry. No story could be too gross
for their belief, if it agreed with their wishes. “Es verdad, los
dicen,” “It is true, they say it,” is the invariable answer of a
Spaniard if a doubt is expressed of the truth of an absurd report.
Of temperate habits, possessing little furniture, and generally
hoarding all the gold he can get, the Spanish peasant is less
concerned for the loss of his house than the inhabitant of another
country would be: the effort that he makes in relinquishing his
abode must not be measured by the scale of an Englishman’s exertion
in a like case; and once engaged in an adventure, the lightness of
his spirits, and the brilliancy of his sky, make it a matter of
indifference to the angry Spanish peasant whither he wanders.
[Sidenote: Historia de la Guerra contra Napoleon.]
The evils which had afflicted the country previous to the period of
the French interference was another cause which tended to prepare
the Spaniards for violence, and aided in turning that violence
against the intruders. Famine, oppression, poverty, and disease,
the loss of commerce, and unequal taxation, had pressed sorely
upon them; for such a system the people could not be enthusiastic;
but they were taught to believe, that Godoy was the sole author of
the misery they suffered, and that Ferdinand would redress their
grievances; and as the French were the strenuous protectors of the
former, and the oppressors of the latter, it was easy to add this
bitterness to their natural hatred of the domination of a stranger;
and it was so done.
Such were the principal causes which combined to produce this
surprising revolution, from which so many great events flowed,
without one man of eminent talent being cast up to control or
direct the spirit which was thus accidentally excited. Nothing
proves more directly the heterogeneous nature of the feelings and
interests which were united together than this last fact, which
cannot be attributed to a deficiency of natural talent, for the
genius of the Spanish people is notoriously ardent, subtle, and
vigorous; but there was no common bond of feeling which a great man
could lay hold of to influence large masses. Persons of sagacity
perceived very early that the Spanish revolution, like a leafy
shrub in a violent gale of wind, greatly agitated but disclosing
only slight unconnected stems, afforded no sure hold for the
ambition of a master-spirit, if such there were. It was clear that
the cause would fail unless supported by England, and then England
would direct all, and not suffer her resources to be wielded for
the glory of an individual, whose views and policy might hereafter
thwart her own; nor was it difficult to perceive that the downfall
of Napoleon, not the regeneration of Spain, was the object of her
cabinet.
The explosion of public feeling was fierce in its expression,
because political passions will always be vehement at the first
moment of their appearance among a people new to civil commotion,
and unused to permit their heat to evaporate in public discussions.
The result was certainly a wonderful change in the affairs of
Europe; it seems yet undecided whether that change has been for the
better or for the worse. In the progress of their struggle, the
Spaniards developed more cruelty than courage, more violence than
intrepidity, more personal hatred of the French than enthusiasm for
their own cause. They opened indeed a wide field for the exertions
of others; they presented a fulcrum upon which a lever was rested
that moved the civilised world; but assuredly the presiding genius,
the impelling power, came from another quarter. Useful accessories
they were, but as principals they displayed neither wisdom, spirit,
nor skill sufficient to resist the prodigious force by which they
were assailed. If they appeared at first heedless of danger, it was
not because they were prepared to perish rather than submit, but
that they were reckless of provoking a power whose terrors they
could not estimate, and in their ignorance despised.
It is, however, not surprising that great expectations were
at first formed of the heroism of the Spaniards, and those
expectations were greatly augmented by their agreeable qualities.
There is not upon the face of the earth a people so attractive in
the friendly intercourse of society: their majestic language, fine
persons, imposing dress and lively imaginations, the inexpressible
beauty of the women, and the air of romance which they throw
over every action, and infuse into every feeling, all combine to
delude the senses and to impose upon the judgment. As companions
they are incomparably the most agreeable of mankind; but danger
and disappointment attend the man who, confiding in their promises
and energy, ventures upon a difficult enterprise. “Never do to-day
what you can put off until to-morrow,” is the favourite proverb in
Spain, and, unlike most proverbs, it is rigidly attended to.