We draw near to one of those critical, supreme, and solemn moments in the history of nations when the excess of an evil brings inspiration, and counsels a remedy; when indignation at the treachery of some, sorrow at the humiliation and degradation of others, produce in a people an eager and salutary reaction respecting their outraged dignity; which causes them to recover themselves, gives rise to grand ideas, and endows them with the courage of anger and desperation, resulting in an impetuous and heroic outburst, in which, finally, they rehabilitate their tarnished honour, and regain their lost courage. Popular instinct, being by this time more prudent and far-seeing than governors and councillors, and as suspicious and distrustful of the French as it had been previously simple and candid, saw with sorrow the tortuous turn taken by public affairs. The people of Madrid were specially mortified by the journey and absence of their beloved Ferdinand, brought about by deceptions and stratagems; by the liberty given to the hated Godoy, through the influence of the emperor and his agents; and by Murat’s efforts to cause Charles IV to be re-acknowledged king.
Outside Madrid, in Toledo and Burgos, riots and risings took place, in which some excesses were committed, which although provoked by French impudence and audacity served Murat as an excuse for presenting imperious and haughty complaints to the supreme junta, exaggerating injuries and making them the motive of harassing it with exactions and petitions. Seeing the junta inefficient and weak, Murat haughty and daring daily reviewing his force, the capital occupied by the brilliant imperial guard of infantry and cavalry and by the infantry commanded by Musnier, the Retiro fortified with artillery, Marshal Moncey’s force surrounding the environs of Madrid, and a second line farther back composed of Dupont’s divisions, in the Escorial, Aranjuez, and Toledo, forming in all an army of twenty-five thousand men, while the Spanish garrison barely numbered three thousand—the oppressed people became secretly agitated; the very French detected a certain hatred in the looks of the residents, and noted a gloom on their faces, a sign of the concentrated rage hidden in their breasts, which fear alone restrained, and which needed but a light breath to cause it to break out in an impetuous explosion. To this was added the rumour spread abroad, and the idea which the people had formed of the heroic resistance which it was said Ferdinand was opposing in Bayonne against renouncing the crown, which Napoleon, wishing to wrest it from him, was urging him to do, Ferdinand being in their eyes the defenceless victim of the imperial violence. The junta continued to step from concession to concession, from weakness to weakness. They speedily found themselves involved in a new dispute.
On the 30th of April the grand duke of Berg (Murat) presented himself before the junta, bearing a letter from Charles IV to the president, the infante, summoning to Bayonne his two children, the queen of Etruria, and the infante Don Francisco.
Eventually the 2nd of May [dos de Mayo] dawned, a day that was to be ever remembered. From the early morning the signs which generally herald a popular rising were noticeable. Numerous groups of men and women, among which were many peasants from the suburbs who had remained over night, filled the Plaza de Palacio, from whence the infantes were to leave Madrid. At nine o’clock the carriage bearing the queen of Etruria and her children left without opposition and without sign of feeling from the people, partly because they looked on her as almost a foreign princess, and partly because she was of those who opposed Ferdinand. The servants of the palace spread the report that the infante Don Francisco, still a child, was crying, because he did not wish to leave Madrid; this excited the pity of the women and the anger of the men. At this moment Murat’s aide-de-camp Lagrange came upon the scene, and the people thinking he was come to hasten the departure of the prince, a general murmur was heard.
One spark is sufficient to ignite well prepared fuel. At the cry of an old woman—“God help me! They are taking all the royal family to France!”—the multitude rushed upon the grand duke’s aide-de-camp, who would have fallen a victim to the fury of the populace had not an officer of the Walloon guard shielded him with his body. Murat, who lived close by and heard of what was passing in the vicinity of the palace, despatched a battalion with two pieces of artillery. This troop fired a volley on the defenceless multitude, without previous warning. Instantly the residents of Madrid rushed into the streets, armed with guns, carbines, swords, pikes, and as many other arms as each one could carry; and with daring courage fell impetuously upon all the Frenchmen they encountered, although those who begged for mercy were shut up in a safe place, and, with a few exceptions, those who remained in their houses were respected. Murat, who was accustomed to fighting, both on the field and in the streets and squares of large towns, now set his forces in movement, in such a manner that, coming from the different extremes of the capital and converging by the principal streets to the centre of the town, they came up scattering the multitude; while the imperial guard, commanded by Daumesnil, struck at the groups, stabbing the people. And the Polish lancers and the mamelukes, who distinguished themselves by their cruelty, forced the houses from whence the people were firing on them, or where they supposed they were firing, and entering sacked them and killed the residents.
THE FRENCH IN SPAIN
In spite of the disparity of the forces, and the superiority due to equipment, instruction, and military discipline, the people fought with extraordinary valour; many sold their lives dearly; sometimes the mob forced masses of cavalry to retreat; others fired from a corner with dexterous skill, while from the balconies, windows, and roofs men and women threw down all kinds of implements on the imperial troops. But it was impossible for a people without leaders and undisciplined to sustain the struggle.
The rumour that the French had attacked one of the other barracks moved the already hesitating artillery corps to take part with the people, and the valiant officers Don Pedro Velarde and Don Luis Daoiz, taking the lead, commanded three cannon to be brought out and supported by the peasants and by a picket of infantry commanded by an officer called Ruiz; they proposed to repulse the enemy, and shortly succeeded in compelling a detachment of one hundred French to surrender. But presently Lefranc’s column came down upon them, and a desperate struggle ensued, deadly volleys were discharged, the losses on either side were numerous; in the beginning of the conflict Ruiz fell to the ground mortally wounded; the intrepid Velarde died gloriously, pierced by a ball; but ammunition ran short and the French charged with their bayonets. Such was the defence of the artillery, which cost the French dear, and such the example of patriotism given by the valiant Daoiz and Velarde to the glory and honour of Spain, who have been ever since, and will ever be, the eternal objects of the veneration and worship of their country.[110]
The members of the junta of government wished to give proof of humanity if they had not shown energy, and commissioned two of their number to carry word to Murat that if he would give orders for the firing to cease, they would re-establish quiet in the town. Murat acceded; and the commissioners went through the streets waving white handkerchiefs crying “Peace! Peace!” The multitude quieted down upon the promise of reconciliation and pardon for the past. Many unfortunates owed their lives to this step; the entrances to the streets were guarded by the French; at certain places cannon were mounted with lighted match in readiness to complete the terror of the people, a fatal sign that the reconciliation and pardon were soon to be converted into desolation and vengeance.