Toledo had been for some time the retreat of two ambitious, turbulent and vindicative intriguers, the Queen Dowager and Cardinal Porto Carrero.They had long been deadly enemies.They had led the adverse factions of Austria and France.Each had in turn domineered over the weak and disordered mind of the late King.At length the impostures of the priest had triumphed over the blandishments of the woman; Porto Carrero had remained victorious; and the Queen had fled in shame and mortification, from the Court where she had once been supreme.In her retirement she was soon joined by him whose arts had destroyed her influence.The Cardinal, having held power just long enough to convince all parties of his incompetency, had been dismissed to his See, cursing his own folly and the ingratitude of the House which he had served too well.Common interests and common enmities reconciled the fallen rivals.The Austrian troops were admitted into Toledo without opposition.The Queen Dowager flung off that mournful garb which the widow of a King of Spain wears through her whole life, and blazed forth in jewels.The Cardinal blessed the standards of the invaders in his magnificent cathedral, and lighted up his palace in honour of the great deliverance.It seemed that the struggle had terminated in favour of the Archduke, and that nothing remained for Philip but a prompt flight into the dominions of his grandfather.
So judged those who were ignorant of the character and habits of the Spanish people.There is no country in Europe which it is so easy to overrun as Spain, there is no country in Europe which it is more difficult to conquer.Nothing can be more contemptible than the regular military resistance which Spain offers to an invader; nothing more formidable than the energy which she puts forth when her regular military resistance has been beaten down.
Her armies have long borne too much resemblance to mobs; but her mobs have had, in an unusual degree, the spirit of armies.The soldier, as compared with other soldiers, is deficient in military qualities; but the peasant has as much of those qualities as the soldier.In no country have such strong fortresses been taken by surprise: in no country have unfortified towns made so furious and obstinate a resistance to great armies.
War in Spain has, from the days of the Romans, had a character of its own; it is a fire which cannot be raked out; it burns fiercely under the embers; and long after it has, to all seeming, been extinguished, bursts forth more violently than ever.This was seen in the last war.Spain had no army which could have looked in the face an equal number of French or Prussian soldiers; but one day laid the Prussian monarchy in the dust; one day put the crown of France at the disposal of invaders.No Jena, no Waterloo, would have enabled Joseph to reign in quiet at Madrid.
The conduct of the Castilians throughout the War of the Succession was most characteristic.With all the odds of number and situation on their side, they had been ignominiously beaten.
All the European dependencies of the Spanish crown were lost.
Catalonia, Arragon, and Valencia had acknowledged the Austrian Prince.Gibraltar had been taken by a few sailors; Barcelona stormed by a few dismounted dragoons.The invaders had penetrated into the centre of the Peninsula, and were quartered at Madrid and Toledo.While these events had been in progress, the nation had scarcely given a sign of life.The rich could hardly be prevailed on to give or to lend for the support of war; the troops had shown neither discipline nor courage; and now at last, when it seemed that all was lost, when it seemed that the most sanguine must relinquish all hope, the national spirit awoke, fierce, proud, and unconquerable.The people had been sluggish when the circumstances might well have inspired hope; they reserved all their energy for what appeared to be a season of despair.Castile, Leon, Andalusia, Estremadura, rose at once;every peasant procured a firelock or a pike; the Allies were masters only of the ground on which they trod.No soldier could wander a hundred yards from the main body of the invading army without imminent risk of being poniarded.The country through which the conquerors had passed to Madrid, and which, as they thought, they had subdued, was all in arms behind them.Their communications with Portugal were cut off.In the meantime, money began, for the first time, to flow rapidly into the treasury of the fugitive King."The day before yesterday," says the Princess Orsini, in a letter written at this time, "the priest of a village which contains only a hundred and twenty houses brought a hundred and twenty pistoles to the Queen.'My flock,' said he, 'are ashamed to send you so little; but they beg you to believe that in this purse there are a hundred and twenty hearts faithful even to the death.' The good man wept as he spoke; and indeed we wept too.Yesterday another small village, in which there are only twenty houses, sent us fifty pistoles."While the Castilians were everywhere arming in the cause of Philip, the Allies were serving that cause as effectually by their mismanagement.Galway staid at Madrid, where his soldiers indulged in such boundless licentiousness that one half of them were in the hospitals.Charles remained dawdling in Catalonia.
Peterborough had taken Requena, and wished to march from Valencia towards Madrid, and to effect a junction with Galway; but the Archduke refused his consent to the plan.The indignant general remained accordingly in his favourite city, on the beautiful shores of the Mediterranean, reading Don Quixote, giving balls and suppers, trying in vain to get some good sport out of the Valencia bulls, and making love, not in vain, to the Valencian women.
