During the first success of the Spaniards, the enemies of Government either were silent or joined faintly in the expression of national feeling which was heard from all parts of the united kingdoms. No sooner had the prospect begun to darken than their real wishes were disclosed, and, true to their belief in the omnipotence of Buonaparte, they expatiated upon the folly and insanity of opposing one against whom it was impossible that any resistance could be successful. They dwelt upon the consummate wisdom of his cabinet, the unequalled ability of his generals, the inexhaustible numbers of his armies, and their irresistible force; but they neither took into this account the character of the Spanish people, nor the nature of their country, nor the strength of moral principles and of a righteous cause, being ignorant alike of all. That faith in English courage, by which the fields of Cressy, and Poictiers, and Agincourt were won, and which in our own days we had seen proved, not only upon our own element, our empire of the seas, at the mouths of the Nile and at Cape Trafalgar, but before the walls of Acre, and in Egypt, and at Maida, and in Portugal; ... that faith which should ever be the first article of an Englishman’s creed, for while it is believed, so long is it true; ... that faith these men had abjured, and substituted in its place a political heresy, baneful as it was false, that upon land nothing could withstand the French. The world was made for Buonaparte, and he had only to march over it, and take possession. When they were reminded of this Tyrant’s guilt, they thought it a sufficient reply to tell us of his greatness, and would have had us fall down and worship the Golden Image at the very time when the Spaniards were walking amid the burning fiery furnace.

They began by predicting the failure of all our efforts, and the total ruin of the Spanish cause; laying down as “a proposition too plain to be disputed, that the spirit of the people, however enthusiastic and universal, was in its nature more uncertain and short-lived, more liable to be extinguished by reverses, or to go out of itself amid the delays of a protracted contest, than the steady, regular, moderate feeling which calls out disciplined troops, and marshals them under known leaders, and supplies them by systematic arrangements.” That it was in the power of England to assist the Spanish people with such troops, such leaders, and such arrangements, they had neither heart to feel nor understanding to perceive. They ridiculed the “romantic hopes of the English nation;” hopes, they said, which had been raised by “the tricks of a paltry and interested party.” Could any man of sense, they demanded, any one “above the level of a drivelling courtier, or a feeble fanatic, look at this contest, without trembling every inch of him for the result?”

But the baseness of party went beyond this. Not only were ministers blamed for what they had done in assisting Spain, and counselled to withdraw their assistance as speedily as possible, but the Spaniards themselves were calumniated and insulted. They had neither courage, nor honour, nor patriotism; no love for their country, nor any thing in their country worth defending. What mattered it to them whether their King were called Joseph or Ferdinand, a Buonaparte or a Bourbon? God would dispense sunshine and showers upon the peninsula, whoever was his vicegerent there; the corn and the olive would ripen, and the vine and the fig-tree yield their fruits. What folly then to contend for a feeble and oppressive government, of which the loss was gain! The Emperor of the French had rid them of this wretched government; he had abolished the Inquisition, reduced the monastic orders, and would suppress them and all other remaining grievances as soon as the obstinacy of the people would allow him leisure. And indeed the people were sensible of these benefits: ... a few chiefs, the overgrown aristocracy of the land, had for a while misled them; but those chiefs had only a little hour to strut and fret; and for the people, whose detestation of the French government had been carried to a pitch wholly unauthorized by its proceedings toward them, their eyes were opened now; they saw that Buonaparte was doing good; while, on the other hand, they regarded the English as heretics; and nothing could overcome the antipathy which this feeling occasioned.

The circumstances of Sir John Moore’s retreat, and the return of his army, were matter of triumph to the journalists of this shameless faction. “The dismal news,” they said, “was at last arrived! the truth of the bulletins was established to its utmost latitude! the pledge of throwing the English into the sea was almost to its literal meaning fulfilled! The Spanish Junta and their allies, after six months’ trifling, blundering, and vapouring, were now finally defeated! the spirit of patriotism, both in Spain and Portugal, was extinct! the majority of the Spaniards had all along been indifferent respecting the dynasty by which they were to be governed; yea, many were more attached to the Buonapartes than the Bourbons. The triumphs of France, the defeat and dispersion of the Spanish armies, wherever they were attacked, the retreat and discomfiture of the British forces, ... these were the melancholy events which concluded the fatal campaign of 1808, the fifth year of the war, ... this most unjust and unnecessary war, into which England, in violation of its own treaty with France, had rushed with equal eagerness and frenzy, and which she was now carrying on with the professed object of the preservation of the most corrupt branch of the Romish church!” Such was the language, not of the revolutionary propagandists alone, but of political faction and puritanical bigotry; while the condition in which the troops arrived, and the tale which they related, excited the feelings of the people, ♦Return of the army from Coruña.♦ and rendered it easy to mislead them. Never had such a scene of confusion and distress been witnessed at Plymouth as on the arrival of this miserable fleet. Above 900 women were landed, all ignorant whether their husbands were dead or living; they were searching through the transports, and officers and men in like manner looking after their wives, children, and friends. Of the wounded there were some whose wounds had never been dressed: many were brought on shore dead: some died in the streets, on their way to the hospitals. They who had escaped from any farther evil, having lost all their baggage, were, even the officers, covered with filth and vermin. Letters were written from the Medical Transport Board to all the surgical lecturers in London, requesting that their pupils would repair to the ports, and assist during the immediate emergency. The form of having passed the Hall was dispensed with, and nothing more required than a certificate from the lecturer whom they had attended. The people of Plymouth behaved on this occasion with the characteristic activity and beneficence of the English nation. A committee of gentlemen was immediately appointed, who sat night and day, providing food, clothing, and assistance. The ladies of the place attended the sick and wounded, and assisted in dressing the wounds: thus supplying the want of a sufficient number of medical men. Many a woman gave her only second garment to her who had none. A charitable fund was raised, and 1400 women and children belonging to the expedition received immediate relief. The inhabitants of Portsmouth had a less mournful task. That part of the army which landed there had not embarked from the field of battle; and they who were well enough to partake of festivity ♦Dr. Neale’s Travels, p. 217.♦ were feasted in the Town-Hall. The troops brought back with them a pestilential fever, which spread through the military hospitals, and raged for some months before it could be subdued.

Parliament met before the issue of Sir John Moore’s campaign was known, but it was understood that he was hastily retreating toward the coast with the intention of embarking, and intelligence was hourly looked for with fearful ♦The King’s speech.♦ expectation. The King’s speech was in a spirit suited to the times. He had given orders, he said, that the overtures from Erfurth should be laid before both Houses, and he was persuaded they would participate in the feelings which he had expressed when it was required that he should consent to commence the negotiation by abandoning the cause of Spain. So long as the people of that country remained true to themselves, so long would he continue to them his most strenuous assistance: and in the moment of their difficulties and reverses he had renewed to them the engagements which he had voluntarily contracted at the outset of their struggle. He had called his Parliament in perfect confidence that they would cordially support him in the prosecution of a war which there was no hope of terminating safely and honourably except through vigorous and persevering exertions. The various grades of opposition were distinctly marked in the debates ♦Lord Sidmouth.♦ which ensued. Lord Sidmouth said, that there prevailed among the people a feeling of dissatisfaction which was most honourable to them, because it arose from their zealous loyalty and generous desires. They were neither contented with the extent of the exertions which had been made to support the Spaniards, nor with the manner in which those exertions had been directed. Something, he trusted, would be done to allay this laudable discontent, while he avowed his full belief that it behoved us to prosecute the war with vigour. Such language was consistent with the constant tenor of Lord Sidmouth’s conduct; a man who never in a single instance allowed either personal or party feeling to prevail over his natural integrity. Earl St.

♦Earl St. Vincent.♦ Vincent agreed in the necessity of carrying on determined hostilities against the common enemy, but he condemned the ministers alike for what had been done, and what had been left undone. They had brought upon us, he said, the greatest disgrace which had befallen Great Britain since the Revolution. It appeared as if they had not even a geographical knowledge of the Peninsula, insomuch that they ought to go to school again, to make themselves masters of it. Why had there been that disgraceful delay before our troops were sent to Spain? Why had not some of our Princes of the blood been appointed to lead our armies? all those illustrious persons had been bred to arms, and for what purpose, if they were not to be employed? Why had not the Portugueze been called into action? He knew them well; they were as brave a people as any upon the continent of Europe, and under British officers would have presented an undaunted front to the enemy. Ministers ought to have known their value, and if they did not, their ignorance was inexcusable. If the House of Lords did its duty, they would go to the foot of the throne, and there tell the Sovereign the bold truth, that if he did not remove those ministers he would lose the country.

Lord Grenville said there was but one opinion in the country concerning the base and treacherous, the atrocious and cruel invasion of the Spaniards; but one opinion as to the cause wherein they were fighting against the Tyrant who unjustly and cruelly attacked them; but there had been no prospect which should have induced reasonable men to send a British army into the interior of Spain, though fleets with troops on board, to hover about the coast, and take advantage of every favourable opportunity, might be of essential service. We had injured our allies instead of serving them. We had forced the Junta of Seville to abandon the excellent system of defence which they had arranged, and, by sending an army into the heart of the country, compelled them to engage in pitched battles with regular troops. Care must now be taken not to waste our resources in Quixotic schemes which it was impossible to accomplish. Our army, brave as it was, well-disciplined, and capable of doing every thing which men could be expected to perform, would find employment enough in securing our own defence. If the country was to be saved, its salvation could alone be effected by maintaining a force upon a scale commensurate with the increasing dangers of our situation. But, said he, I have no hesitation in declaring it to be my most decided opinion, that if the system hitherto acted upon be farther pursued, and the whole armed force of the country sent into the interior of Spain, the destruction of this monarchy is inevitable; and that we shall soon be reduced to the same condition with Prussia ♦Earl of Liverpool.♦ and the conquered states of the continent. To these speakers it was replied by the Home Secretary, who had now upon his father’s death become Earl of Liverpool, that it would ill become us to be dismayed by those reverses which were from the beginning to be expected, and to renounce that system of support to which the nation was solemnly pledged, and in which those very reverses made it a more sacred duty to persevere. He entreated those who were inclined to despond that they would call to mind the lessons of history. There it would be found, that nations, after maintaining struggles for ten or twenty years, in the course of which they had been almost uniformly worsted in battle, had eventually succeeded in securing the object for which they strove. It was difficult to conceive any situation which would better warrant hopes of ultimate success than that of Spain. The people were unanimous in their resistance to the invader; and it was the only instance since the French revolution in which a whole people had taken up arms in their own defence. The territory of Spain was as large as that of France within its ancient limits, and the country possessed many local advantages for defence, ... advantages, the value of which the Spanish history in former times ought to teach us duly to appreciate. The cause itself was most interesting to the best feelings of the human mind: it offered the last chance of salvation to the continent of Europe; and if it were considered in a selfish and narrower point of view, our own immediate security was in some degree involved in its fate. Was there then nothing to be risked in support of a generous ally? ... nothing for the re-establishment of the general tranquillity? ... nothing for our own safety and independence?

The opposition in the Lower House betrayed a wish to shake off the Spaniards and withdraw from the contest in whatever manner we could. ♦Mr. Ponsonby.♦ Never, said Mr. Ponsonby, since Great Britain attained its present rank, has its public force been directed with so little skill, so little foresight, or so little success; though, in the expenditure of public money, he believed none would accuse his Majesty’s counsellors with ever having been wanting in vigour. It was their duty now to examine whether they ought to risk an army in Spain, or confine their assistance to supplies. Elizabeth, under circumstances sufficiently like the present, took care to possess cautionary towns, and thereby assured herself of a retreat, and gained a safe point whither to send reinforcements, as well as a security that the United Provinces should not abandon her in the contest wherein they were engaged. He should not indeed think of abandoning the Spaniards in the hour of misfortune, but he could not admit that the present obligations were to be considered in the light of a solemn treaty; they had been entered into in a moment of hurry and precipitation; they had not been laid before Parliament, and were therefore unauthorized by it, and Parliament might approve or disapprove, grant or refuse the supplies ♦Mr. Whitbread.♦ for carrying them into effect. Mr. Whitbread declared that if the recent disasters should appear to have proceeded from the misconduct of ministers, the House ought to demand condign punishment on their heads. It was now doubtful whether we had not been proceeding upon false information both with respect to Spain and Portugal. Were our troops agreeable to the people of Portugal? or were we not obliged to keep a certain force there for the purpose of keeping that people quiet, that is, to strike terror into our friends instead of our enemies? Were our troops, or were they not, welcome to the people of Spain? He had reason to doubt that fact. He was fearful that a multitude of Spaniards wished success to Buonaparte rather than to us. Although we must condemn the injustice of Buonaparte in his attack upon Spain, yet his measures were extremely judicious. He abolished the Inquisition, feudal rights, and unequal taxation. This was certainly holding out some temptation to the people to acquiesce in the changes which he wished to introduce, and unquestionably it had produced great effect. The government which England supported was not connected with any thing like a promise of the reform of any of the evils of the old system, nor with any thing like a melioration of the condition of the Spaniards. God forbid that we should abandon their cause while it was possible to support it with any prospect of success; but he was far from being sure that the time might not come when we should have to treat with France after she had totally subdued Spain. Ministers were justified in refusing to treat on the terms offered at Erfurth; indeed they must have been the basest of mankind if they had accepted such a preliminary. But he could not avoid regretting that the country had lost so many fair opportunities of negotiating a peace, and that it had at length been reduced to so foul a one that it could not have been accepted without eternal disgrace. Mr. William Smith said, with a similar feeling, that though he concurred in the propriety of rejecting the last offer of negotiation, he by no means meant to declare that the country ought never to commence another while Spain was in the hands of the French government.

This first debate made it apparent that the cause of the Spaniards, in which all Britain had appeared to partake so universal and generous a sympathy, was now regarded by a party in the state as a party question; and that because ministers, true to the interest of their country, and to its honour (of all interests the most important), were resolved to continue faithful to the alliance which they had formed with Spain, there were men who felt little concern for what Europe and liberty and human nature would lose if Buonaparte should succeed in bowing the Spaniards beneath his yoke, and who looked on with ill-dissembled hope to the advantage which such a catastrophe might give them over their parliamentary opponents. Their disposition was more broadly manifested when the overtures from Erfurth were discussed, and an address moved approving the answer which had been ♦Debates on the Overtures from Erfurth.
Jan. 26.♦ returned. They admitted that the overtures were insincere, and could not possibly have led to peace, and yet they took occasion to carp and cavil at what they could not in common decency oppose.

In the Upper House a feeling of utter hopelessness was expressed with sincere regret by Lord Grenville and Lord Auckland: the former asserted that Buonaparte went to Spain with the moral certainty of effecting its subjugation, the most important object of any that he had yet had in view; and that in the course of two months he actually had attained that object. The latter affirmed, that what we called the Spanish cause was lost, for the present at least, and without any rational hope that it could be ♦Mr. Canning. Jan. 31.♦ soon revived. To such opinions Mr. Canning alluded, saying, it was said that whenever Buonaparte declared he would accomplish any measure, his declaration was to be received as the fiat of a superior being, whom it was folly to resist! He never pledged himself to any thing but what he could accomplish! His resolves were insurmountable! His career not to be stopped! Such, said the orator, is not my opinion, nor the opinion of the British people. Even were the ship in which we are embarked sinking, it would be our duty still to struggle against the element. But never can I acknowledge that this is our present state. We are riding proudly and nobly buoyant upon the waves! To the argument that we ought, as Buonaparte had done, to have held out a prospect of political reform to the Spaniards, he replied we had no right to assume any dictatorial power over a country which we went to assist. We were not to hold cheap the institutions of other countries because they had not ripened into that maturity of freedom which we ourselves enjoyed; nor were we to convert an auxiliary army into a dominating garrison; nor, while openly professing to aid the Spaniards, covertly endeavour to force upon them those blessings of which they themselves must be the best judges. If the Spaniards succeeded, they would certainly be happier and freer than they had hitherto been; but that happiness and freedom must be of their own choice, not of our dictation. The Central Junta was not indifferent to this prospective good, for it called upon all literary men to contribute their assistance in suggesting such laws as might best be enacted for the good of the state. If the suggestion of such laws were to accompany a subsidy, he doubted much whether it would meet with assent: and sure he was that the Spaniards could not but dislike them, if dictated at the point of the bayonet. In these enlightened days, said he, the imposition of a foreign dynasty is not regarded with so much abhorrence, as it is considered what useful internal regulations the usurpers may introduce! So detestable a mode of reasoning is confined to only a few political speculators; the general sense and feeling of mankind revolt at it. There is an irresistible impulse which binds men to their native soil; which makes them cherish their independence; which unites them to their legitimate princes; and which fires them with enthusiastic indignation against the imposition of a foreign yoke. No benefit to be received from a conqueror can atone for the loss of national independence. Let us then do homage to the Spanish nation for their attachment to their native soil; an attachment which in its origin is divine; ... and do not let us taunt them with being a century behind us in civilization or in knowledge, or adhering to prejudices in religion, in politics, or in arts, which we have happily surmounted.

The more moderate opposition members, such as Mr. Ponsonby and Lord Henry Petty, agreed that the government had taken a proper course in demanding an explanation with regard to Spain before any negotiation was commenced. ♦Mr. Whitbread.♦ But Mr. Whitbread said he lamented that the offer had been so abruptly put an end to. Even in breaking with France it was better to break with her in a spirit of as little acrimony as possible, ... for let gentlemen say what they would, we must ultimately treat with France, ... to this complexion we must come at last; and it would not be easy to say when we might calculate upon even as good terms as we had been offered in the late overture. With respect to Spain, the hopes he once had were nearly gone; and the various reports from different quarters, from some of the want of wisdom in the government, from others of want of energy in the people, were not calculated to revive them. Perhaps before this Portugal was reconquered. Buonaparte was hastening to fulfil all his prophecies. If ever we wished for peace, with this man probably we must make it, and it was always wrong to use insulting language towards him; the least price of peace would be for us to use something like decorous language to a power which was perhaps the greatest that had ever existed on the face of the world. And it was extraordinary indeed that a government which had committed the attack upon Copenhagen should call the usurpation of Spain unparalleled! It really carried with it an air of ridicule. Why should we talk of atrocity? Why should we blasphemously call on our God ... we, the ravagers of India, ... we who had voted the solemn thanks of the House to the despoilers of that unhappy, persecuted country?

Thus did Mr. Whitbread attempt, ... not indeed to justify Buonaparte, few of his admirers had at that time sufficient effrontery for this, ... but to defend him by the yet viler method of recrimination; to apologize for his crimes by the false assertion that England had perpetrated crimes as great; to stand forth as the accuser of his country; and to disarm it, as far as his ability and his influence might avail, of its moral strength, and of its hope in God and a good cause. Six months before he had prayed God to crown the efforts of the Spaniards with success ♦Vol. i. p. 449.♦ as final as those efforts were glorious. “Never,” he then said, “were a people engaged in a more arduous and honourable struggle. Perish the man,” he then exclaimed, “who would entertain a thought of purchasing peace by abandoning them to their fate! Perish this country rather than its safety should be owing to a compromise so horridly iniquitous!” It was now apparent that the sympathy which had been thus strongly expressed had not been very deep. He moved as an amendment upon the address, that though we should have witnessed with regret any inclination to consent to the abandonment of the cause of Spain, it did not appear that any such disgraceful concession was required as a preliminary by the other belligerent powers. The stipulation, therefore, on our part, that the Spaniards should be admitted as a party, was unwise and impolitic; an overture made in respectful terms ought to have been answered in more moderate and conciliatory language, and immediate steps taken for entering into negotiation on the terms proposed in that overture. The amendment concluded by requesting that his Majesty would be graciously pleased to avail himself of any opportunity which might offer of acceding to, or commencing a negotiation for the restoration of the blessings of peace, on such terms as the circumstances of the war in which we were engaged might render compatible with the true interests of the empire, and the honour of his Majesty’s crown.

The proposed amendment provoked a severe reply from Mr. Croker. He exposed the inconsistency of the mover, who in his letter to Lord Holland, when he had stated his opinion that it became the Government at that time to negotiate, recommended that “the complete evacuation of Spain by the French armies, the abstinence from all interference in her internal arrangements, and the freedom of the Royal Family, should be the conditions of the negotiation.” Mr. Croker commented also with just indignation upon the strain of argument which Mr. Whitbread had pursued. “He has set out,” said he, “by doing Buonaparte the favour of trying to find a parallel for his attack on Spain; and he boasts of having found many. But in the registers of British discussion, in the recollections of British feeling, I defy the honourable gentleman to find a parallel for his own speech, ... a speech calculated only to plead the enemy’s cause. I do not mean to represent him as intentionally their advocate; but I will assert that, whether intentionally or not, he has taken that course by seeking for examples which might keep the French government in countenance. But even if he were not so deeply to blame for ♦1809.
February.♦ this, ... supposing even that this course was necessary to his argument, ... even then he had been in error: he had produced no parallel instance; the history of the world did not furnish one; and he had fruitlessly gone out of the path to weaken the cause of his country.”

Mr. Whitbread’s amendment was so little in accord with the feelings even of his colleagues in opposition, that it was not put to the vote. But his speech was so favourable to Buonaparte, and so suited to the furtherance of his purposes, that the French government availed themselves of it. A very few omissions adapted it to the meridian of Paris; it was translated, inserted in the provincial papers as well as those of the capital, and circulated through France and those countries which were under its dominion or its influence. To deceive the French and the people of the continent by the official publication of false intelligence was part of Buonaparte’s system; but no fabrication could so well have served his purpose as thus to tell them that an English statesman, one of the most eminent of the Whigs, of the old advocates of liberty, a leading member of the House of Commons, had declared in that House that the overtures of peace made by France were unexceptionable, and had been unwisely, impoliticly, and unnecessarily answered with insult; that Buonaparte, wielding the greatest power which had ever existed, was hastening to fulfil all his prophecies; that England must be reduced to treat with him at last, and therefore that the King of England ought to be advised by his Parliament to commence a negotiation as soon as possible upon such terms as circumstances might permit!

The debates upon the campaign in Portugal and the Convention of Cintra terminated in confirming by the sense of Parliament the opinion which the Court of Inquiry had pronounced. Events indeed had followed in such rapid succession, that the Convention having been regarded only as to immediate interests, not with reference to principles which are of eternal application, seemed like a subject obsolete and out of date. Ministers derived another advantage from the manner in which they were attacked. No man could blame them, except in the mere spirit of opposition, for having sent an expedition to Portugal; the public sense of what had been lost by the armistice sufficiently proved the wisdom of its destination; and that the force had been sufficient for its object we had the decisive authority of Sir Arthur Wellesley, and the complete evidence of the victory which he had gained. The discussions upon the expedition to Spain were more frequent ♦Both parties agree in extolling Sir J. Moore.♦ and more angry. Both parties, however, as soon as the subject was brought forward, agreed in voting the thanks of Parliament to the army for their services, and a monument to the General. It had been the intention of Government to make a provision for the female part of Sir John Moore’s family; but upon an intimation of their wish that it might be transferred to a male branch, a pension of a thousand pounds was granted to his elder brother. This was a becoming act of national generosity; but the opposition eagerly consecrated, and as it were canonized, the memory of Sir John Moore, that they might impute the whole misconduct of the campaign, with all its loss and its disgrace, to Government; and the ministers, always willing to avert a harassing investigation, were well pleased that their opponents should thus preclude themselves from pressing it upon military grounds.

Inquiry, however, was called for, not upon that reasonable ground, but in the avowed hope that it would prove the ministry guilty of that utter misconduct for which their enemies so ♦Lord Grenville.♦ loudly and exultingly arraigned them. Lord Grenville said it was indeed a sinking country if such mismanagement were suffered to continue in the midst of our unexampled perils and difficulties. The hand of Providence appeared to be on us. Within three years we had lost the two great statesmen in whom the nation reposed its confidence, an admiral who had carried our navy to a pre-eminence which it never before enjoyed, and now a great military chieftain, whose talents were of the first order. “Was it ♦Lord Erskine.♦ possible,” Lord Erskine asked, “to deplore the loss of friends whom we loved, and of men whose lives were precious to their country, without lamenting in bitterness that they were literally immolated by the ignorance and folly of those who now wished to cover their own disgrace by the just and natural feelings of the public towards men who had died for their native land? But for their immortal renown, it would have been better for them, certainly much better for their country, to have shot them upon the parade of St. James’s Park, than to have sent them, not to suffer the noble risk of soldiers, in a practicable cause, but to endure insufferable, ignoble, and useless misery, in a march to the very centre of Spain, where for them to attack was impracticable, and to retreat only possible, by unparalleled exertions: and what sort of retreat? ... a retreat leaving upon the roads and in the mountains of Spain from 8000 to 9000 of our brave men, dying of fatigue, without one act of courage to sweeten the death of a soldier. What could, then, be a more disgusting and humiliating spectacle, than to see the government of this great empire, in such a fearful season, in the hands of men who seemed not fit to be a vestry in the smallest parish?”

Mr. Ponsonby insisted that it was the duty of ministers, before they engaged in such a contest, to have ascertained the real state of Spain. It was not sufficient to know that monks could excite some of the poorer and more ignorant people to insurrection. The disposition and views of the upper classes, who from their rank and property possess a natural influence, ought to have been ascertained; and, above all, the inclination of that middle class which is every where the great bond and cement of connexion between the higher and lower orders. Some information too they might have collected from history before they ventured upon sending an army into Spain: for, as far as history went, they would not find much to encourage them in relying upon the character of the Spaniards for cordial or active co-operation in such a contest. “I am not disposed,” said he, “to speak disrespectfully of the Spaniards; but history does not represent them as remarkable for that daring, enthusiastic, high-spirited disposition which prompts and qualifies men to make a great struggle for freedom and independence. The most powerful principles to excite mankind have uniformly been religion and liberty: have either been found materially to operate upon the recent movements of the Spanish people? These are the only principles which have ever served to excite the noble daring, the heroic resolution to conquer or die; and it was necessary therefore to inquire whether they were actuated by both, or by either, to calculate upon the probability of their success in the war. If they were influenced by neither of these motives, how could any reflecting man look for energy, zeal, or perseverance among them? Let me not be misinterpreted. I do not desire that they, or any people, should become wild or mad, and destroy society itself in order to improve its condition; that in order to remove abuses they should tear away all their ancient institutions; that in order to reform religion they should destroy Christianity itself; but I do say, while the Inquisition existed, that if the Spaniards were not sensible of the multitude of abuses which pressed upon them, if they felt not a wish to reform abuses and to restore their rights, and were not willing, for that reformation and restriction, to encounter all the dangers and endure all the difficulties inseparable from the species of warfare in which they were engaged; I say, that if this people were not actuated by the wish for, and encouraged by the hope of an improved condition, it was impossible for any statesman, for any man of common sense, to suppose that they would fight with success. If they were insensible of the cause of their degradation, and indifferent as to its removal, it was in vain for England to calculate upon materially exciting the spirit, or effectually aiding the exertions of such a people.”

Then, after intimating a belief that Sir John Moore had acted against his own judgment, and in consequence only of Mr. Frere’s repeatedly urging him to advance, he asked whether the Spaniards had been found willing and cordial in their assistance to the British army? whether they had received them as deliverers and guests, or with jealousy and fear? “Perhaps,” he continued, “ministers may say that the Spaniards did not discover all that cordiality which was expected. But can it be permitted that they shall say this after they have involved the country in such a ruinous, unproductive, and inglorious struggle? For let us not forget this, that, although we have obtained renown for our military bravery, England has for ever lost its character as a military nation. Were you to propose to send your soldiers again, as an encouragement and aid to other foreign powers, what would be the answer? It would be, ‘No! Your troops are good; your officers are skilful and courageous; but there is something in the councils of England, or in the nature and manner of the application of her force, that renders it impossible ever to place any reliance upon her military assistance.’ When you appeared in Holland and Germany as auxiliaries, you failed; true it is, your force in these cases was comparatively small, and the question remained undecided. The problem is solved, however, by what has passed in Spain. You professed to send forth the largest army that ever went from England, for the purpose of meeting the force of France; and what has been the result? A shameful retreat before the armies of France, and a disgraceful desertion of the power you wished to assist. This campaign, I say, will have an influence upon the character of England long after all of us shall cease to live. I ask the House, then, to institute an inquiry. I call upon the country to seek for one, in order to show how much distress, difficulties, dangers, and perils unexampled, our soldiers have endured in this fruitless and inglorious struggle. I call upon you, by the gratitude you owe to those who were thus shamefully sacrificed at Coruña, ... by that which you owe to their companions in arms, who are still in existence, and able and willing to defend their country; I call upon you, by the interest you take in those who yet remain, to institute this inquiry, in order that they may not be sacrificed by similar misconduct upon a future occasion. I call upon you, as you value the glory of our country, the preservation of our future power and reputation, as well as our interest, by every thing that can excite the exertions of brave men, to institute this investigation.”

Lord Castlereagh, in his reply to this speech, observed with sarcastic truth, there could not be a greater mistake than to suppose they who called for inquiry meant that they wanted information. It happened, however, that by pronouncing upon facts of which he was imperfectly ♦Mr. Tierney.♦ informed, Mr. Tierney was led into a course of argument most unfavourable to the intentions of himself and those who acted with him. Why, he demanded, had not the 10,000 men who were embarked been sent forward with all speed to Sir John Moore’s assistance? On board the transports they were, and Lord Castlereagh took them out. Had they been sent, Sir John might have been still alive, and a real diversion then have been effected; for our army might for some time have maintained itself in Coruña, and have obliged the enemy to turn their whole attention to that quarter. The loss which we had sustained in our retreat, he said, was carefully glossed over, but he understood that it was at least from 8,000 to 10,000 men. Such a scene of woe, indeed, had scarcely ever been heard of. Think of blowing up the ammunition, destroying three or four hundred waggons, staving the dollar casks, leaving the artillery to be cast away, and the Shrapnell shells to the French, who would thus discover their composition! He meant not to ascribe these disasters in the smallest degree to the General: all might have been avoided, if only 10,000 men had been sent to his support. Inquiry, therefore, was more than ever necessary; and by the result of that night’s debate Great Britain would judge of the character of the House of Commons. That House ought to convince the army that, though they might be exposed to unavailing exertions, and useless hardships, by the mismanagement of ignorant councils, they had protection in Parliament, who would never be slow in attending to their interest and their comforts. Unless the officers of the army had this support to look to, all would with them be absolute despair; for, with the exception of some of the connexions of ministers, there was not an officer who came home from the expedition who did not vent execrations against the authors of it ... there was not a man engaged in that retreat of unparalleled hardship who did not curse those who placed them in such a situation.

The fact was as Mr. Tierney stated it; ... he was only mistaken in imputing it to the government. Four regiments and two troops of horse artillery were actually on board, and had been disembarked. Five more regiments of cavalry were under orders for Spain, and would have been dispatched as soon as the transports could return for them. Nor had Mr. Tierney overstated the advantages which might have been expected had they arrived at the scene of action. On the contrary, far more important results than that of maintaining Coruña for a time must have ensued, if the British army had found these reinforcements there, even if it could be supposed that the retreat would have been made with such desperate precipitance, the General knowing he had such support at hand. He would then have retreated like one who was falling back upon his reinforcements, not flying to his ships. Broken in strength as the army was by severe exertion and excessive sufferings, broken in spirit too and almost in heart by the manner of its retreat, it had beaten the pursuers in fair battle, and 10,000 fresh troops would have turned the tide. Galicia would have been delivered from the enemy, Portugal saved from invasion, and Soult’s army have been cut off, unless they could have crossed the mountains faster in flight than they had done in pursuit. Ministers would indeed have deserved the imputation so confidently cast on them by their opponents, if these advantages had been lost by their misconduct. Mr. Canning stated in their defence, that the reinforcements had been countermanded by the Generals, and empty transports sent out in conformity to their distinct requisition. “It was an afflicting circumstance,” said he, “to send out empty, for the purpose of bringing off the army, those ships which had been filled for the purpose of reinforcing it. Among all the decisions to which I have been a party, no one has ever in the course of my life occurred which gave me more pain than this; ... every dictate of the understanding was tortured, every feeling was wrung by it. But his Majesty’s ministers had no choice. They felt that it would excite dissatisfaction in England and dismay in Spain; and yet they had no alternative.”

Mr. Canning then proceeded to examine the more general arguments of Mr. Ponsonby. “It had been argued,” he said, “that before the assistance of this country had been given to Spain, we ought to have ascertained whether or not the Spaniards were instigated by the monks; whether they were encouraged by the higher ranks; whether they were wedded to their ancient institutions, or disposed to shake off the oppression of their former government; to abjure the errors of a delusive religion; and to forswear the Pope and the Grand Inquisitor. The policy of his Majesty’s government was different. They felt that the Spanish nation wanted other and more aids than lectures on municipal institutions; they were content that a British army should act in Spain, though the Grand Inquisitor might have been at the head of the Spanish armies; though the people might have been attached to their ancient monarchy, and with one hand upheld Ferdinand VII., whilst with the other they worshipped the Lady of the Pillar. God forbid we should be so intolerant as to make a conformity to our own opinions the price of our assistance to others, in their efforts for national independence; to carry the sword in one hand, and what we may choose to call the Rights of Man in the other! But the enthusiasm of the Spaniards was not pretended; what they had in their mouths, they felt in their hearts: they were enthusiastically determined to defend their country to the last extremity, or to perish under its ruins. The cause was not desperate; the spirit of the people was unsubdued; the boundaries of French power were confined within the limits of their military posts; the throne of Joseph was erected on sand, and would totter with the first blast; and Buonaparte, even should he succeed, instead of a yielding and unreproaching ally, would have an impatient, revolting, and turbulent nation to keep down. The cause was not therefore desperate, because our army of 30,000 or 40,000 men had been obliged to withdraw; and it was not just to the country, or to the army, which he hoped would again prove the stay and bulwark of Europe, to assert that its honour was in consequence gone for ever. All the energy of liberty, and all the sacredness of loyalty, still survived; and the Spanish revolution was, he trusted, destined by Providence to stand between posterity and French despotism, and to show to the world, that, amidst the paroxysms of freedom, a monarch might still be loved. If, therefore, ministers could show that these were the feelings by which they were influenced, and that they had acted up to these feelings, their justification would be complete; and he was convinced that the liberal and disinterested measures of his Majesty’s government towards Spain were more congenial to British feeling, and more honourable to the national character, than if they had set out in their career of assistance by picking up golden apples for ourselves. For himself, as an humble individual of the government, and having a share in these transactions, the recollection would be a source of gratification which he should carry with him to the grave. If we had been obliged to quit Spain, we had left that country with fresh laurels blooming upon our brows; and whatever failure there had been upon the whole might still be repaired. If that was to be brought forward as the ground for accusation, he stood there for judgement. The object of the motion was to take the reins of government out of the hands of those who held them; and upon that ground he desired that the present ministers might be judged by comparison. Was it the pleasure of the House that Spain should be abandoned? Was it a principle agreed upon, that the direction of government should be committed to other hands? Was it then a settled opinion, that there was something fatal in the will, and irresistible in the power of Buonaparte? and was the world to submit to his tyrannous resolves, as to a divine infliction? Whatever might be the fruits of Buonaparte’s victories in other respects, the spirit of the Spanish nation was yet unsubdued. His fortune, no doubt, had been augmented; but still it was fortune, not fate; and therefore not to be considered unchangeable and fixed. There was something unworthy in the sentiment that would defer to this fortune, as to the dispensations of Providence; looking upon it as immutable in its nature, and irresistible by human means:—