This reasoning was sound, and Cradock’s intention was, undoubtedly, not to abandon the country, unless driven from it by force, or in pursuance of orders from England: but his arrangements seem to have carried more the appearance of alarm than was either politic or necessary; for the position of Passa D’Arcos might have been prepared, and the means necessary for an embarkation secured, and yet the bulk of the troops kept in advance until the last moment. To display a bold and confident front in war is, of all things, the most essential, as well to impose upon friends as upon enemies; and sir John Cradock did not fail to experience the truth of this maxim.
The population of Lisbon, alarmed by the reverses in Spain, and yet, like all the people in the Peninsula, confident in their own prowess and resolution until the very moment of attack, became extremely exasperated; and the regency, partly from their natural folly and insincerity, but more from the dread of the lower orders, countenanced, if they did not instigate, the latter to commit excesses, and to interrupt the proceedings of the British naval and military authorities.
[Appendix, No. 3], sect. 5.
Although the measures of precaution relative to the forts had originated with the regency, they now formally protested against them; and, with a view to hamper the general, encouraged their subalterns to make many false and even ridiculous charges against the British executive officers; and it would appear that the remonstrances of the admiral and generals were but imperfectly supported by Mr. Villiers.
In this manner the people’s violence was nourished until the city was filled with tumult; mobs, armed with English pikes and muskets, collected night and [Appendix, No. 3], section 6. day in the streets and on the high-roads, and, under the pretext of seeking for, and killing, Frenchmen, attacked, indiscriminately, all foreigners, even those in the British service and wearing the British uniform. The guards, who endeavoured to protect the victims of this ferocity, were insulted. Couriers, passing with despatches, were intercepted and deprived of their papers; English officers were outraged in the streets; and such was the audacity of the people that the artillery was placed in the squares, in expectation of an affray. In fine, the state of Lisbon was similar to what it had been at the period of Junot’s convention; and, if the British had abandoned the country at this time, they would have been assailed with as much obloquy by the Portuguese, for, such has been, and will be, the fate of all unsuccessful auxiliaries: a reflection that should render historians cautious of adopting accusations upon the authority of native writers on the like occasions.
This spirit was not confined to Lisbon. In Oporto the disposition to insult the British was more openly encouraged than in the capital, and the government of the multitude was more decidedly [Appendix, No. 3], section 6. pronounced. From the cities it spread to the villages. The people of the Alemtejo frontier were, indeed, remarkably apathetic; but, from the Minho to the Tagus, the country was in horrible confusion; [Appendix, No. 3], section 6. the soldiers were scattered, without regard to military system, and, being unpaid, lived at free quarters; the peasantry of the country assembling in bands, and the populace of the towns in mobs, intercepted the communications, appointed or displaced the generals at their pleasure, and massacred all persons of whom they were suspicious. The ammunition which had been supplied from England was wasted, by constant firing in token of insubordination; and, as if the very genius of confusion was abroad, some of the British troops, [Appendix, No. 6], section 2. principally malingerers,[3] of sir John Moore’s army, added their quota of misconduct, to increase the general distress.
The leading instigator of the excesses at Oporto was one Raymundo, a coadjutor and creature of the bishop’s, a turbulent and cruel fellow, who, by taking a share in the first insurrection against the French, obtained a momentary influence, and has since been elevated, by a very credulous writer, into a patriotic hero. He was, however, a worthless coward, fitted for secret villany, but incapable of a noble action.
This state of affairs, productive of so much misery and danger, continuing, without intermission, caused many of the upper classes to despair of their country’s safety by war, and increased the number of those who, wishing to attach themselves to the fortune of France, were ready to accept of a foreign prince for their sovereign, if, with him, they could obtain tranquillity and an ameliorated constitution; and when, soon afterwards, the edge of the enemy’s sword, falling upon the senseless multitude, filled the streets of Oporto with blood, there was a powerful French party already established in Portugal. The bulk of the people were, however, stanch in their country’s cause; they were furious and disorderly, but imbued with hatred of the French; ready at the call of honour; and susceptible of discipline, without any loss of energy.
The turbulence of the citizens, the remonstrances of the regency, and the representations of Mr. Villiers, who was in doubt for the personal safety of the British subjects residing in Lisbon, convinced sir John Cradock that political circumspection and adroitness were as important as military arrangement, to prevent a catastrophe at this critical period; and, as contrary to what might have been expected, the enemy had not yet made any actual movement across the frontier, he was induced to suspend his design of falling back to Passa D’Arcos; and in this unsettled state affairs remained until March, when intelligence arriving that the French fleet was at sea, two of the line-of-battle ships in the Tagus were despatched to reinforce sir Thomas Duckworth’s squadron, and the batteries at the mouth of the river were again armed.
Meanwhile, Soult was making progress in the north; the anarchy at Oporto was continually increasing, and the English government had certainly come to the resolution of abandoning Portugal if the enemy advanced; for, although sir John Cradock was not informed of their views, an officer in England, well acquainted with Portuguese customs, actually received orders, and was embarking, to aid the execution of this measure, when, suddenly, the policy of the cabinet once more changed, and it was resolved to reinforce the army. This resolution, which may be attributed partly to the Austrian war, partly to the failure at Cadiz, and partly to the necessity of satisfying public opinion in England, was accompanied by a measure judicious in principle and of infinite importance, inasmuch as it formed the first solid basis on which to build a reasonable hope of success.