LETTER XIII.

Seville, July 30, 1808.

Whether Murat began to suspect that his cruel method of intimidating the capital would rouse the provinces into open resistance, or whether (with the unsteadiness of purpose which often attends a narrow mind, acting more from impulse than judgment,) he wished to efface the impressions which his insolent cruelty had left upon the Spaniards; he soon turned his attention to the restoration of confidence. The folly, however, of such an endeavour, while (independent of the alarm and indignation which spread like wildfire over the country,) every gate of Madrid was kept by a strong guard of French infantry, must have been evident to any one but the thoughtless man who directed it. The people, it is true, ventured again freely out of the houses: but the public walks were deserted, and the theatres left almost entirely to the invaders.

Yet it was visible that the French had a party, which, though feeble in numbers, contained some of the ablest, and not a few of the most respectable men at Madrid. Nay, I firmly believe, that had not the Spaniards of the middle and higher classes been from time immemorial brought up in the strictest habits of reserve on public measures, and without a sufficient boldness to form and express their opinions; the new French Dynasty would have obtained a considerable majority among our gentry. In the first place, two-thirds of the above description hold situations under Government, which they would have hoped to preserve by adherence to the new rulers. Next, we should consider the impression which the last twenty years had left on the thinking part of the community. Under the most profligate and despicable Court in Europe, a sense of political degradation had been produced among such of the Spaniards as were not blinded by a nationality of mere instinct. The true source of the enthusiasm which appeared on the accession of Ferdinand, was joy at the removal of his father; for hopes of a better government, under a young Prince of the common stamp, seated on an arbitrary throne, must have been wild and visionary indeed. As for the state of dependance on France, which would follow the acknowledgement of Joseph Bonaparte, it could not be more abject or helpless than under Ferdinand, had his wishes of a family alliance been granted by Napoleon. It cannot be denied that indignation at the treatment we have experienced strongly urged the nation to revenge; but passion is a blind guide, which thinking men will seldom trust on political measures. To declare war against an army of veterans already in the heart of Spain, might be, indeed, an act of sublime patriotism; but was it not, too, a provocation more likely to bring ruin and permanent slavery on the country, than the admission of a new King, who, though a foreigner, had not been educated a despot, and who, for want of any constitutional claims, would be anxious to ground his rights on the acknowledgment of the nation?

Answers innumerable might be given to these arguments—and that I was far from allowing them great weight on my mind I can clearly prove, by my presence in the capital of Andalusia. But I cannot endure that blind, headlong, unhesitating patriotism which I find uniformly displayed in this town and province—a loud popular cry which every individual is afraid not to swell with his whole might, and which, though it may express the feeling of a great majority, does not deserve the name of public opinion, any more than the unanimous acclamations at an Auto da Fé. Dissent is the great characteristic of liberty. I am, indeed, as willing as any man to give my feeble aid to the Spanish cause against France; but I feel indignant at the compulsion which deprives my views of all individuality—which, from the national habits of implicit submission to whatever happens to be established, forces every man into the crowd, so that nothing can save him but running for his life with the foremost.

I repeat, that I need not an apology for my political conduct on this momentous occasion. Feelings which will, indeed, bear examination, but on which I ground no merit, have brought me to the more honourable side of the question. Yet I must plead for candour and humanity in favour of such as, from the influence of the views I have touched upon, and in some cases, with a more upright intention than many an outrageous patriot, have opposed the beginning of hostilities. The name of traitor, with which they have been indiscriminately branded, must cut them off irrevocably from our party; and even the fear of being too late to avoid suspicion among us, may oblige those whom chance or the watchfulness of the Madrid Government, has hitherto prevented from joining us, to make at last, common interest with the French.

To escape from Madrid, after the news of the insurrection of Andalusia had reached that capital, was, in fact, an undertaking of considerable difficulty, and, as I have found by experience, attended with no small danger. Dupont’s army had occupied the usual road through La Mancha, and no carriages were allowed by the French to set off for the refractory provinces. My decision, however, to join my countrymen, had been formed as soon as they took up arms against the French; and though my friend shuddered at the idea of casting his lot with the defenders of the Pope and the Inquisition, he soon forgot all personal interest, in a question between a foreign army and his own natural friends.

There were no means of reaching Andalusia but through the province of Estremadura, and no other conveyance, at that time, than two Aragonese waggons, which having stopped at a small inn, or venta, three miles from Madrid, were not under the immediate control of the French police. The attention of the new Government was, besides, too much divided by the increasing difficulties of their situation, to extend itself beyond the gates of the town. We had only to make our way through the French guard, and walk to the venta on the day appointed by the waggoners. But if a single person met with no impediment at the gates, luggage of any description was sure to be intercepted; and we had to take our choice between staying, or travelling a fortnight, without more than a shirt in our pocket.