During February and March, the French departed as lightly as they had advanced against Ciudad Rodrigo; but, on the 25th of April, a camp was pitched upon a lofty ridge five miles eastward of the city; and, in a few days, a second, and then a third, arose: and these portentous clouds continued to gather on the hills until June, when fifty thousand fighting men came down into the plain, and throwing two bridges over the Agueda, begirt the fortress.
This multitude, composed of the sixth and eighth corps, and a reserve of cavalry, was led by Ney, Junot, and Montbrun. The sixth corps invested the place; the eighth occupied San Felices Grande, and other points, and the cavalry swarmed on both sides of the river; but the battering train and a great escort was still two days’ march in the rear; for the rains inundating the flat country between the Agueda and the Tormes, rendered the roads impassable. The bridges were established on the 2d and 7th of June; the one above, the other below the town; and on the 13th, ground was broken on the Greater Teson. The 22d, the artillery arrived, and preparations were made to contract the circle of investment on the left bank of the Agueda, which had hitherto been but slightly watched. But that night, Julian Sanchez, with two hundred horsemen, passed silently out of the castle-gate, and, crossing the river, fell upon the nearest French posts, pierced their line in a moment, and reached the English light division, then behind the Azava, six miles from Ciudad Rodrigo. This event, induced Ney, to reinforce his troops on the left bank, and a movement, to be hereafter noticed, was directed against general Crawfurd the 25th, on which day, also, the French batteries opened.
Ney’s plan, was to breach the body of the place without attending to the Spanish fire. Salvos, from forty-six guns, constantly directed on one point, soon broke the old masonry of the ramparts; but the besieged, who could bring twenty-four guns to bear on the Teson, shot so well that three magazines blew up at once in the trenches, and killed above a hundred of the assailants. On the 27th, the prince of Esling arrived in the camp, and summoned the governor to surrender. Herrasti answered in the manner to be expected from so good a soldier; and the fire was resumed until the 1st of July, when Massena, sensible that the mode Intercepted French Correspondence. MSS.of attack was faulty, directed the engineers to raise counter-batteries, to push their parallels to the Lesser Teson, work regularly forward, blow in the counterscarp, and pass the ditch in form. Meanwhile, to facilitate the progress of the new works, the convent of Santa Cruz, on the right flank, was carried after a fierce resistance; and, on the left, the suburb was attacked, taken, and retaken by a sally, in which great loss was inflicted on the French. Howbeit, the latter remained masters of every thing beyond the walls.
During the cessation of fire, consequent upon the change in the French dispositions, Herrasti removed the ruins from the foot of the breach, and strengthened his flank defences: but, on the 9th of July, the besieger’s batteries, being established on the Lesser Teson, re-opened with a terrible effect. In twenty-four hours, the fire of the Spanish guns was nearly silenced, part of the town was in flames, a reserve magazine exploded on the walls, the counterscarp was blown in by a mine, on an extent of thirty-six feet, the ditch filled by the ruins, and a broad way made into the place. At this moment, three French soldiers, of heroic courage, suddenly running out of the ranks, mounted the breach, looked into the town, and having thus, in broad daylight, proved the state of affairs, discharged their muskets, and, with matchless fortune, retired unhurt to their comrades.
The columns of assault immediately assembled. The troops, animated by the presence of Ney, and excited by the example of the three men who had so gallantly proved the breach, were impatient for the signal. A few moments would have sent them raging into the midst of the city, when the white flag waved on the rampart, and the venerable governor was seen standing alone on the ruins, and signifying, by his gestures, that he desired to capitulate. He had stricken manfully, while reason warranted hope, and it was no dishonour to his silver hairs, that he surrendered when resistance could only lead to massacre and devastation.
Six months had now elapsed, since the French resuming the plan of conquest interrupted by the Austrian war and by the operations of sir Arthur Wellesley, had retaken the offensive. Battle after battle they had gained, fortress after fortress they had taken, and sent the Spanish forces, broken and scattered, to seek for refuge in the most obscure parts: solid resistance there was none; and the only hope of deliverance for the Peninsula rested upon the British general. How he realized that hope shall be related in the next book. Meanwhile, the reader should bear in mind that the multifarious actions related in the foregoing chapters, were contemporaneous; and that he has been led, as it were, round the margin of a lake, whose turbulent waters spread on every side. Tedious to read, and trifling many of the circumstances must appear, yet, as a whole, they form what has been called the Spanish military policy: and, without accurate notions on that head, it would be impossible to appreciate the capacity of the man who, like Milton’s phantom, paved a broad way through the chaotic warfare.
I have been charged with incompetence to understand, and, most unjustly, with a desire to underrate the Spanish resistance; but it is the province of history to record, foolish as well as glorious deeds, that posterity may profit from all: and neither will I mislead those who read my work, nor sacrifice the reputation of my country’s arms to shallow declamation upon the unconquerable spirit of independence. To expose the errors is not to undervalue the fortitude of a noble people; for in their constancy, in the unexampled patience, with which they bore the ills inflicted alike by a ruthless enemy, and by their own sordid governments, the Spaniards were truly noble: but shall I say that they were victorious in their battles, or faithful in their compacts; that they treated their prisoners with humanity; that their Juntas were honest or wise; their generals skilful; their soldiers firm? I speak but the bare truth, when I assert, that they were incapable of defending their own cause! Every action, every correspondence, every proceeding of the six years that the war lasted, rise up in support of this fact; and to assume that an insurrection so conducted did, or could possibly baffle the prodigious power of Napoleon is an illusion. Spain baffle him! Her efforts were amongst the very smallest causes of his failure. Portugal has far greater claims to that glory. Spain furnished the opportunity; but it was England, Austria, Russia, or rather fortune, that struck down that wonderful man. The English, more powerful, more rich, more profuse, perhaps more brave than the ancient Romans; the English, with a fleet, for grandeur and real force, never matched, with a general equal to any emergency, fought as if for their own existence. The Austrians brought four hundred thousand good troops to arrest the conqueror’s progress, the snows of Russia destroyed three hundred thousand of his best soldiers; and finally, when he had lost half a million of veterans, not one of whom died on Spanish ground, Europe, in one vast combination, could only tear the Peninsula from him, by tearing France along with it. What weakness, then, what incredible delusion to point to Spain, with all her follies, and her never-ending defeats, as a proof that a people fighting for independence must be victorious. She was invaded, because she adhered to the great European aristocracy; she was delivered, because England enabled that aristocracy to triumph for a moment, over the principles of the French revolution.