And now came on the horrors of devastation; the city was crumbling before the French fire and above their mines in all parts; the noises of artillery, crashing houses, shouts, shrieks, and groans of anguish, were mingled in awful sublimity. The Cosso, or great public walk, was the principal object of attack and defence for several days; by immense mines and constant firing, the French at length succeeded in obtaining this; and they then continued their underground ramifications in the most surprising manner. It was at this point of the siege the spirit of the French began to flag: fifty days’ incessant labour and fighting had exhausted, for a moment, their boiling courage; they were dying ingloriously, like rats, in subterraneous trenches. This is not the scene for the French soldier:—he likes broad day, the eyes of man upon him, and an obstacle that can be overcome by one brave effort. They began to reflect upon the disparity of numbers, and to ask each other who ever heard of thirty-five thousand men besieging fifty thousand?
But Lasnes knew the stimulant that was wanted. A harvest of glory in promise was sufficient; and whilst excited by the prospect, he led them on the 18th of February to a grand assault.
During this assault, mines containing three thousand pounds of powder were sprung, and amidst the crash of falling buildings, fifty guns thundered upon the suburb and the bridge over the Ebro, and made a large practicable breach in the convent of St. Lazar. This was taken, the passage of the bridge was intercepted, and awful havoc was made among the troops. Gazan forced two thousand men to surrender, and took possession of the Spanish works.
This being followed by another attack and by the devastating explosion of sixteen hundred pounds of powder, the besieged began to tremble. Palafox sent an aide-de-camp to demand, in addition to certain terms before offered by the French commander, that the garrison should be allowed to join the Spanish armies, with a fixed number of covered carriages. As might have been expected, Lasnes rejected these proposals, and the firing continued; but the hour of surrender was come. A little more sharp firing and the explosion of another mine or two, together with the dread of others, completed the consternation.
But to increase the horrors of the situation of the people, pestilence of a fearful kind arose from the manner in which the women, children, and aged inhabitants were crowded into cellars lighted by oil. The closeness of the atmosphere, with bad and unusual diet, produced diseases that assailed both the strong and the weak; the daily deaths were from four to five hundred. Sixteen thousand shells were thrown during the siege, and forty-five thousand pounds of powder had been exploded in the mines; forty thousand persons had perished!
Palafox was sick, and most of the other leaders were either dead or disabled. According to French writers, the place surrendered at discretion; but the Spanish authors assert that Lasnes granted the following terms, the name of Ferdinand VII. being omitted from the instrument:—“The garrison to march out with the honours of war, to be considered prisoners, and sent to France; the officers to retain their swords, baggage, and horses, the men their knapsacks. Persons of either class willing to serve under Joseph, to be immediately enrolled in the ranks; the peasants to be sent to their homes; property and religion to be guaranteed.”
There was much dissension in the city about these terms; but the Junta took prompt measures to give up the walls near the castle, and, in the words of Sir William Napier, “on the 21st of February, from twelve to fifteen thousand sickly beings, having laid down their arms, which they could now scarcely handle, this cruel and memorable siege terminated.”
In this siege we have had recourse principally to Sir William Napier; indeed, to what other source could we look with so much confidence? We only regret that we did not feel at liberty to copy his account literally. His is the graphic description of a man who not only conscientiously relates the history of the events, but proves that he professionally understands all he speaks of. He is like Xenophon describing the immortal retreat of the ten thousand. There is only one thing in which we cannot agree with him. Being a soldier, he perhaps has a leaning to all who have distinguished themselves in his profession, and on that account, gives frequent and strong praise to Buonaparte. Now we cannot join him to anything like the extent of his admiration for that extraordinary adventurer. When the wings of victory fanned his standard, he was glorious and triumphant; but in reverses, he showed himself deficient in what has been the pride of the greatest generals. Condé’s retreat from Arras was one of the proudest feats of his military career. As a piece of generalship, Moreau’s famous retreat is equal to any one of Buonaparte’s victories.