―4―

ANNALS OF EUROPE.

CHAPTER I.

AFTER the conclusion of the war with Prussia and Russia, by
the peace of Tilsit, in July 1807, the French government had leisure
to resume its hostile projects against England, but these projects
were no longer as direct as formerly. Though much of the Prussian
monarchy had been declared, by they late treaty, restored to its for-
mer possessor, the French armies still retained possession of the
whole. The vantage ground which the Prussian fortresses in Silesia
and Saxony afforded against Austria, was not to be precipitately re-
linquished, and the execution of the treaty necessarily demanded
much time. A large part of the military force of France, therefore,
was still detained in Germany and Poland, and the camp formerly
maintained on the shores of the English channel continued still de-
solate.

The British expedition against Denmark necessarily threw that
state into the arms of France. The conquest of all the Swedish
provinces in Germany, and the Danish alliance, afforded the French
an opportunity of threatening the Swedish territory itself, and con-
siderable bodies of troops, were consequently occupied in that quar-
ter. As there was no medium with regard to Denmark, between
war with France on the one hand, and the British and their allies on
the other, she rushed at once into double hostility, and war ensued
between Denmark and Sweden. The French therefore dispatched
armies into Denmark, to second her hostilities against Sweden, and a
part of the British naval force was necessarily detained in the Baltic
to aid Sweden in repelling her new as well as her old enemy.

―5―

The Treaty of Tilsit, between France and Russia was carefully
concealed from the British government. This circumstance alone
was calculated to excite disquiet and suspicion in the latter. The
obvious advantage arising to France, from a war between Russia and
Great Britain, could not fail to make that power extremely solicitous
to accomplish it. The secrecy observed in their stipulations at Til-
sit, could arise from nothing but the offensiveness of some of its arti-
cles to the ancient allies of the vanquished party. It was well known
that the claims which the British nation had been enabled, by its
victorious navy, to establish with regard to maratime empire, were
odious and painful to the Russians, and had been recently submitted
to, or overlooked through the influence of other more powerful con-
siderations. It was easy to conjecture with what zeal the new coun-
sellors, the patrons of France would endeavour to revive the smoth-
ered flame, and nothing was more probable than that the career of the
conqueror was checked by a promise to renew the pretentions,
which formed the basis of the league between Alexander's grand-
mother and other northern potentates.

These reasons for doubting the amicable sentiments of Alexander
towards England, were corroborated by several others. The British
had afforded no direct assistance to the Russians in the late war.
They had stipulated to afford prompt, large and effectual succour to
their ally, but, though some ammunition and provisions had been
sent, no auxiliary regiments had made their appearance in Poland or
Prussa. The great cause had not even been promoted by attacking
any remote part of the French territory, by means of which the
forces employed against Russia might have been weakened or di-
verted. The British troops in the Mediterranean, instead of assail-
ing or annoying any part of Spain or Italy, were either stationed
quietly at Sicily and Malta, or directed against the extremities of the
Turkish empire, while the remainder was engaged in expeditions to
America or Africa, or stationed at home, inactive spectators of the
bloody and unequal conflict in the north of Europe.

The rapid progress of the French, and the uncertainty of any ulti-
mate advantage from co-operating with the Russians, naturally dic-
tated to Great Britain those cautions and dilatory measures of
which Alexander complained. These measures were justified by
the ordinary maxims of selfish policy, but that which the British
government, considering only its own prosperity could not fail to con-
sider as dictated by the soundest prudence, unavoidably appeared to
the Russians as proofs of a lukewarm and perfidious friendship.
The tardy and sparing supplies of ammunition and arms, were accom-
panied by generals and commissaries, who appared more anxious
and jealous, lest the Russian agents should embezzle, than that their
armies should employ them in battle. Hence Alexander was offend-
ed and disgusted, not only because all effectual succour was denied
him, but on account of the manner in which the assistance he receiv-
ed was dispenced to him.

―6―

These provocations were not sufficient of themselves, to justify, or
even excuse a war with England. Ample matter had been afforded
for complaint, but the offensive conduct of England consisting only
in undue forbearance or selfish inactivity, afforded no adequate object
of military vengeance. A war with England was enjoined by the
French, and adopted in compliance with a hard necessity. To re
concile this proceeding as much as possible with the pride and inter-
ests of Alexander, he was permitted to defer it till his fleet in the
Mediterranean had found a place of safety from the attacks of the
British. This fleet had been dispatched to co-operate with the Bri-
tish, in annoying the Turkish empire, or in defending the Russian
possessions in this quarter. The British government were not in-
sensible that Russia could not maintain peace with France and Eng-
land at the same time, and that the delay of hostile declarations was
probably occasioned by anxiety for the safety of this fleet. They
were, however, so anxious to maintain amity with Russia, that they
suffered the Russian squadron to pass unmolested, from a Spanish
harbor to that of Lisbon.

A next plausible step to war was an offer of the Russians to medi-
ate a maritime peace between France and Great Britain. This me-
diation bore a friendly aspect, and its rejection would absolve the
offerer from any further duty as an ally, and in the secret councils of
France and Russia it cannot be doubted, that the latter stipulated to
declare war against Great Britain, as soon as her squadron in the
Turkish seas should have removed beyond the reach of that power,
and the meditorial offer been rejected.

The English government could not reasonably condemn the peace
between Russia and France. The progress of the French armies
made it indispensible. They could only take umbrage at such ex-
cuses for the treaty as implied resentment against them, or such con-
ditions of it as were fatal to the alliance between Russia and Great
Britain. The Russian minister assigned the infidelity of England
to her promises of co-operation and succour as the cause of the
peace; he bitterly inveighed against her perfidious delays, and thus
left no room for doubt, even if any had been left by other circum-
stances of the hostile purposes of Russia.

No time was lost by the Russian government in offering its medi-
ation for a maritime peace. Communications were made to this
purpose, by the Russian ambassador at London, about three weeks
after the conclusion of the peace at Tilsit. The British minister
signified a vague and ceremonial acceptance of this offer, but by pre-
viously demanding, among other things, a disclosure of the treaty of
Tilsit, which the unfriendly purport of that treaty with respect to
England compelled Russia to conceal; all new advances towards a
diplomatic discussion between the ancient rivals were prevented.
This of course was considered by Russia as a rejection of her media-
tion, and a justifiable prelude to war.

The obstacles to the acceptance of the Russian mediation appear,
it must be acknowledged, to be studiously and needlessly multiplied

―7―

by the British ministers. They are not satisfied with a verbal ass-
urance, that Russia had not stipulated in the Tilsit treaty, to shut her
ports against Great Britain. They demanded a disclosure of the
whole treaty, or at least of any compact by which the interests of Bri-
tain or her allies could be absolutely or conditionally, directly or in-
directly affected. They likewise demanded to know beforehand the
terms on which France was willing to negociate with her great ad-
versary, and that Russia, as a proof of her impartiality, should agree to
renew the commercial treaty with Great Britain. They required to be
satisfied with regard to the extent of that acknowledgment of the new
kingdom of Naples which Alexander had made, and to the intended
conduct of Russia towards the Turks, with whom England had en-
gaged in a war, on behalf of her ally, and the Swedes who had given
no umbrage to Russia, but that arising from their enmity to France.

There is something extremely fulsome and disgusting in the cus-
tomary language of diplomatic papers. Politeness, on other occasions,
is shewn by deference and compliment paid by one party to another,
but here we usually meet with little else than solemn and ostentatious
encomiums by each party on its own wisdom, moderation, sincerity
and justice, though the conduct of each manifests selfish and unfeel-
ing contempt for the welfare of the other, and an exclusive regard to-
that interest of its own, which consists in the enlargement of power
and dominion, and which therefore is promoted only by the injury of
others. This odious spirit is plentifully breathed into the present
conference, and each party decks himself with the epithets of equi-
table, generous, faithful and magnanimous, while an impartial sen-
tence involves them both in the crimes of political avarice and na-
tional ambition.

Though a ready and unconditional acceptance of Alexander's offer
could not have produced a maritime peace, because the terms re-
mained still to be adjusted, and the parties were not likely to agree
on any terms, and though the impartiality of the Russian court was
reasonably liable to some doubt, it does not appear at this distance,
that such an acceptance could be any wise injurious or impolitic.
The preliminaries which the British government insisted on, might
have been safely dispensed with; an important event, however, ren-
dered it of little consequence which mode of conduct was pursued.
This was the capitulation of Copenhagen, intelligence of which
arrived at Petersburgh near the beginning of October, and which
could not fail to put an end to every appearance of amity in Russia
towards England.

Russia could not but regard the attack on Denmark as more fla-
gitious than any violence or usurpation ever imputed to the French.
As Denmark was in strict alliance with Russia, this attack, without
any imputed provocation on the part of Denmark, and without the
knowlege, concurrence or connivance of the former, was a flagrant
outrage on the compacts subsisting between Russia and the assailing
state. Russia herself had more reason to apprehend a similar attack
than Denmark, and the recent event had proved that no foregoing

―8―

promises or subsisting treaties afforded the smallest security against
it. Alexander's inclination for war, therefore, acquired from this
circumstance, all the zeal, and all the justifying pleas which might
previously have been wanting.

The British government had not yet repented of its conduct to-
wards Denmark. Neither truth nor its own imagined dignity, there-
fore, would allow it to apologize for what had been done; on the
contrary, it was incautiously induced to irritate the Russian prince
still more by telling him cooly, that since Denmark could not hope
to regain her fleet by continuing the war, but could merely put her-
self within the ambitious and destructive grasp of France, it was his
duty as her friend, to advise her to forgive the recent injury, and re-
turn to neutrality again. As neutrality was now impossible since the
French would not have suffer its restoration, this council was alto-
gether unreasonable and impertinent, and only tended to widen the
breach between the parties.*

The conditions of forbearance being now fulfilled, Alexander was
urged by the French government to commence hostilities with Eng-
land, and war was accordingly declared on the twenty-sixth of October.
Great apprehensions were entertained of an attack, by the British
fleet, on the great Russian arsenal at Cronstadt, and assiduous prepa-
rations were there made to repell it. Whether any such design was
entertained we know not. The British government could hardly be
insensible that Alexander's conduct was dictated by necessity, and
that the transactions in Denmark would amply justify both his fears
and his anger. Besides, the coasts of the British islands had nothing
to apprehend from the spars and bombs treasured up in a Russian
arsenal. The Russian squadron, however, which had sheltered itself
under the tottering neutrality of Portugal, were blockaded by a Bri-
tish fleet.

It is by no means so easy to account for, and impossible to justify
the war immediately commenced by Russia against Sweden, except
upon the plea of reluctant submission to France, Ambition is, in-
deed, sufficient to induce any nation to wage war against another,
when there is either glory or dominion to be gained by it, but in this
case, the advantages arising from the co-operation of France and
Denmark, could hardly outweigh the necessity of some breathing
time, after the enormous slaughter and expenses of the war just ter-
minated.

The causes of war are seldom to be found in the proclamations
and diplomatic papers of the parties. In this case, ‘tis most probable
that war with Sweden formed an indispensible part of the price given
for a peace with France. To the public, the Russian ministry were
obliged to insist upon the obligation of the king of Sweden, in pursu-
ance of treaties with Russia, to co-operate with her in maintaining
the freedom of the Baltic against the maritime claims of Great Bri-
tain. As the last of these treaties was made in the reign of Paul,

  * There is reason to believe that the British ambassador in Russia, lord G.
L. Gower had too little caution and address for such a post.

―9―

and Russia herself had, since that time, not only receded from her
maritime claims, but been engaged in warlike confederacy with
England, and as, since the formation of these treaties, Denmark had
been earnestly persuaded to co-operate with the same power, nothing
surely could be more idle and impertinent than to complain of the
refusal of Sweden to enter into war with England on this account.
As Sweden was at war with France, and depended for her safety
upon the ships and subsidies of Great Britain, and as matters between
Sweden and Great Britain continued merely in the same state which
had recently subsisted between the latter power and Alexander him-
self, they could not afford even a plausible pretext for resentment.
They are stated, however, by the Russian government as motives for
allowing Sweden no longer to remain neutral.

That part of the Swedish territory bordering on Russia, is a melan-
choly desert, incrusted with ice during four fifths of every year,
overspread with lakes, bays and mountains, and refusing, for the most
part, not only habitation, but even a thoroughfare to mankind. The
only habitable or accessible part, lies along the northern coast of the
Gulf of Finland, but even this is a dreary waste, where culture is
scarcely known, and the population is equally indigent and scanty.
This, however, was the only theatre on which the Russians could
carry on this new war, and Finland was the only province which they
could hope, by the most successful exertions to acquire, as the Eng-
lish ships in the Baltic, effectually debarred them from the use of
that sea. A part of the army lately employed against the French in
Poland, now engaged under Buxhowden, in an expedition against
Finland, which they entered about the middle of February, eighteen
hundred and eight. Their efforts to gain a peaceable reception from
the inhabitants, were not likely to meet with much success. The
nature of the country, in addition to several good fortresses, embar-
rassed their progress, and though Russia has leisure to bestow her
whole attention and force upon this war, the military efforts of a
whole year do not appear to have carried her troops an hundred and
fifty miles along the high road to the capital of this province. We
have accounts of innumerable skirmishes, but of no conclusive bat-
tles, and of attacks upon small posts, the loss of which was as little
injurious on one side as the capture was beneficial on the other.
The minutest attention to the scenes of this dilatory war, scarcely
enables us to say on which side the scale at present preponderates,
while the conquest of the whole of Finland would be of more impor-
tance to the pride, than to the real interests of Sweden. Every cir-
cumstance evinces the inexcusible folly of the contest, and which can
be conceived merely as a game necessary to enliven the attention of
minds, inaccessible to nobler stimulants.

―10―

CHAPTER II.

THE attack on Copenhagen was sufficiently disastrous to the
Danish people, in its proper and immediate consequence. This,
however, composed a very small part of the evils with which it was
pregnant. By laying that nation under the necessity of accepting the
alliance and admitting the armies of France, it made them virtually
its subjects and slaves, and entailed upon it the evils of a perpetual
but hopeless war. In war with England, Denmark could not pos-
sibly gain any thing but new mischief and distress. She afforded a
stage for foreign armies to fight their own battles, while her own real
independence was utterly extinguished.

Even this, however, was not the worst evil arising from her pre-
sent situation. Her neutrality must now, at the pleasure of her new
ally, be totally relinquished, and France, with armies in her bowels,
will treat her as an enemy, unless she declares open war with all the
enemies of France. Denmark, accordingly, under this irresistible
impulse, united with those furious passions which the outrages of
England had awakened, commenced a war with Sweden, on the
twenty-ninth of February.

The public accusations of Denmark, with regard to Sweden,
made on this occasion, amount to no more on the most liberal construc-
tion, than that Sweden did not think proper to resent the late attack
of Copenhagen, but on the contrary, laboured to strengthen herself
by new compacts and conventions with Great Britain, against the at-
tacks of her ancient enemy; attacks which the new alliance of France
with Russia and Denmark could not fail to render more formidable
than ever. This defect of sympathy in her cause; this refusal to
avenge the injuries of Denmark is all that French ingenuity is able
to suggest to the Danish government, as public reasons for hostilities,
and their imbecility is therefore easily and successfully exposed by
the adverse or exculpatory rhetoric of the Swedish monarch.

This new war furnished new employment for the British navy. It
was necessary to maintain a maritime force in the Baltic, not only to
protect the English trade with Sweden, against the teazing and ran-
corous persecutions of the Danes, but to protect Sweden itself from
invasion, on the side both of France, Russia and Denmark. The
French armies hovered on the southern coast of that sea, at several
points, ready to seize any momentary opportunity of passing a chan-
nel, in few places more than an hundred miles wide, and in many
places less than ten miles.

With the aid of the British navy, Sweden had nothing to fear from
France or Denmark, but as Norway, a Danish province, was conti-
guous to Sweden, Denmark had grounds for apprehension, from the
co-operation of England and Sweden, from which the most numerous

―11―

armies of French auxiliaries could do nothing to relieve her. The
only security of Norway consisted in the occupation which the inva-
sion of the Russians afforded the Swedes; on their eastern frontier,
is a lofty chain of steep and snowy mountains, which an army of in-
vaders are obliged to pass, before Norway can be molested: in the
fidelity of the people of that province to their ancient government, to
which it was entitled by a wise and beneficent administration and to
the disinclination of Great Britain to support the Swedes in any mea-
sure not strictly defensive.

The termination of all intercourse between the British and Prus-
sian territories was an unavoidable consequence of an amicable inter-
course between France and Prussia. Indeed the prohibition of the
intercourse, by the Prussian government, which immediately follow-
ed the peace of Tilsit, was merely nominal and ceremonial, since all
the coasts and harbors, from the Niemen to the Elbe, still remained
under the military controul of the conquerors. France, however,
was not satisfied without a similar prohibition with respect to Swe-
den. Accordingly on the sixth of March, all intercourse of every
kind with Sweden, either directly or through the medium of neu-
tral vessels; merchants or travellers was interdicted by procla-
mation.

The French government with a crafty policy, has endeavoured to
cast the blame of a continued war on her rival, by instigating or com-
pelling all her allies to make an offer of their mediation. As early
as the eighteenth of April, 1807, the Austrian government had made
an application of this kind to the British ministry. This offer was of
course accepted. Nothing more was done. In the month of Novem-
ber following, a new offer of the same kind was made, by the same
power, agreeably as was avowed to the desire of the Erench empe-
ror, and no objection being made to the proposal, the Austrian mi-
nister, on the first of January, 1808, requested the British govern-
ment to send its agents to Paris, and offered to supply the necessary
passports without delay.

The former offer was accepted on condition that all the powers
then engaged in the war would likewise accept it. It was now re-
newed without any allusion to this indispensible condition, and the
offer was confined to England and her enemies, where as Great Bri-
tain would consent to no negociation from which any of her allies
were to be excluded. Another objection was made to the proposal,
on accont of the want of any document or voucher directly from the
French government. It would have certainly been an idle an ab-
surd proceeding, to have sent ambassadors to Paris, on the faith of
so vague and equivocal an engagement. All that France sought for
was a colouring sufficient to delude ordinary minds, for charging
Great Britain with refusing to treat.

The attack on Copenhagen could not fail to raise the indignation
of Austria as a neutral power. This sentiment, however, was not
coupled, as in the Russian government, with any personal appre-
hension of like treatment. Austria is happily an inland territory,

―12―

since the loss of Venice and Flanders, for her only sea port is too in-
considerable to make its safety a topic of anxiety, or to entitle her to
the epithet of maritime. Austria demanded of Great Britain, as the
condition of future peace, retraction and reparation with regard to
Denmark, and consent to a maritime peace on terms which Austria
should deem reasonable. Those demands were of course slighted,
and Austria, in pursuance of her new engagements with Russia and
France, recalled her embassy from London, and declared all con-
nexion between the two states at an end.

Thus it was that the opening of the year 1808, beheld Great Bri-
tain at open war, or at enmity with every European state but Portu-
gal, Sicily and Sweden. A few months before, Austria, Denmark and
Turkey, were neutral or friendly powers. Their neutrality was dic-
tated by fear of France, and countenanced and favored by Great Bri-
tain. Russia, Prussia and Sweden were active and strenuous con-
federates, and exerted their whole military force in her cause. We
are not to imagine, however, that the interests of Britain had the
smallest influence on the conduct of any of her confederates, but as
their interests respectively happened to coincide, they may be consider-
ed as fighting the battles of England. The scene was now dreadfully
reversed. The French had subdued Prussia, and converted Austria,
Russia, Denmark and Turkey into open and zealous enemies.

The allies which Great Britain still retained were of no value to her
safety. They were weak and powerless dependants, who, instead of
imparting any succour, required protection. Instead of props to her
strength, they were painful and expensive burthens, he misfor-
tune was likewise the greater, inasmuch as two of them, Sweden
and Portugal, while they claimed protection could not be effectually
protected. he British could do nothing to bar up the entrance of
Finland against Russia, though they could deny the passage of the
Baltic to the French. Portugal was so entirely defenceless that no
attempt could be made to avert her destiny, as soon as Napoleon had
leisure to pronounce it. Sicily by being encompassed with water, it
was possible to protect, and a considerable military and naval force
was stationed in its forts and harbors.

It is not to be denied that the trade of these nations was some
compensation for the trouble of protecting or upholding them. This
trade was augmented with regard to Sicily and Sweden by the ex-
clusion of all other competitors, and Sicily was of no small value to
England as a victualing place for Malta and Gibraltar, and the Bri-
tish squadrons in the Mediterranean. The recent occupation of
Alexandria in Egypt augmented the dependance of Great Britain
on the granaries of Sicily.

Both Sicily and Portugal were necessarily unmolested while the
whole military force of France was exerted in Germany and Poland.
Italy was a conquered country which the presence of armies was as
necessary to retain as to acquire, and Naples was more liable to the
predatory incursions of the British, than was Sicily to those of the
French. Even Naples was as yet by no means effectually subdued,

―13―

and the turbulent mountaineers of Calabria, maintained a destruc-
tive war against the French. The Russians at the mouths of the
Cataro, afforded some occupation to the French at the opposite ex-
tremity of Italy.

Though the peace at Tilsit by no means set at liberty all the ar-
mies engaged in that quarter, a considerable portion was allowed to
effect the ambitious views of their master. The war on the Hadri-
atic was at an end, and the troops which it employed were now at
leisure to extend and complete the French empire in Italy. It was
to be naturally expected, therefore, that the popular waves in Cala-
bria would speedily settle into a calm, and attempts be earnestly and
strenuously made to drive the English out of Sicily.

The destiny of Rome, which had tottered and fluctuated so long,
could not fail to be now, finally determined. Though this princi-
pality was occupied by French troops, and its revenues were chiefly
employed in their support, the pride of irresistable power could not
brook that the pontiff should possess any shred or remnant of politi-
cal authority. The kingdom of Italy was erected, by the French,
in pursuance of the fashion which now prevails of reviving the
despotic and warlike systems of the sixth and seventh centuries.
Greek and Roman liberty are phantoms which enjoyed their tran-
sient hour of idolatry at the opening of the French revolution, but
are now succeeded by the imperial trappings and barbarous pomp of
Charlemagne, and the iron crown of the Lombards. As a double
title, and the union of emperor and king confer an imaginary dignity,
which is wanting in a single name; as the emperors whom Napo-
leon has supplanted, were royal as well as imperial; as Italy when in
possession of the Ostrogoths was called a kingdom: the vanity of
the conqueror required the revival of those gorgious distinctions in
his own person, and he accordingly created himself emperor of the
French and king of Italy.

The kingdom of Theoderick included the provinces since subject-
ed to the Roman pontiff. When Charlemagne, became titular emperor
of the West he asserted the ancient supremacy of the extinguished
empire over Italy. The complex interests of the time made it con-
venient for the Pope to recognize his pretensions so far as to accept
the donation of some of the districts from his hands. This donation
was wholly ineffectual, nor was it till after the lapse of many centu-
ries that the pretended successors of St. Peter obtained full posses-
sion of his imaginary patrimony. Such however is the spirit of the
present generation in France, that the donation of Charlemagne is
gravely mentioned in diplomatic papers, and senatorial acts, and that
the present sovereign finds it decent and becoming to represent his
usurpation of the Roman territory as a mere assumption of the gift
of his predecessor, and as a restoration of the kingdom of Italy to its
ancient and lawful limits.

These pretensions and views do not explain the real motives of
the conquerors. They are merely mentioned as evincing the mar-

―14―

vellous revolution which has taken place in habits and opinions among
the French. Ordinary, vulgar ambition, was as much the genuine
inducement, and military violence the instrument, in the revival of
republics, as of kingdoms in Italy. The independence of France,
enjoyed by the Neapolitan, Roman, Cisalpine, Ligurian, Helvetian,
and Batavian republics, was just as groundless and fallacious as that
possessed at present by the kingdoms of Naples, Italy and Holland.
These nominal divisions will fall into oblivion, and descend as rapidly
as they first arose. All these countries will melt into nominal, as
they are already real members of the French empire; provided the
course of events by which that empire was established do not suffer
some great and sudden revolution.

―15―

CHAPTER III.

THE kingdom of Portugal is of no contemptible extent. It
has a territory more than three times larger than that of the ancient
Dutch confederation; twice as large as Bavaria, or Switzerland, and
not inferior to the kingdom which that Frederick of Prussia who is
called the Great inherited from his father. Portugal has a favorable
soil and climate, it is situated in that part of Europe which received
the earliest rays of modern civilization, the government is endeared
to the people by its antiquity, its native growth, and an administra-
tion congenial to their habits, moral, religious, and political. A large
portion of the country is rugged and mountainous, and therefore ea-
sily defended. There are at least half a million of hands qualified
by strength and hardihood to defend it. It has extensive and opulent
colonies, by which the energies that flow from trade and manufac-
tures and extensive revenue appeared to be placed within its reach.
Yet Portugal has been uniformly represented as destitute of any
well organized military force, and incapable of those spontaneous
exertions, which the mass of some nations are disposed to make
against the tide of foreign invasion.

The political or national weakness of Portugal is a problem which
political enquirers find it easy to resolve into the malignant influence
of the Romish religion. Its priests, monks, and inquisition are,
it is imagined, the true causes of its political infirmities. This notion
is adopted by many in defiance of the plainest dictates of history and
experience, which inform us that when that religion flourished with
most vigour Europe was most turbulent and ferocious, and actuated
most by the military spirit; that the greatest political energy and
wisdom have been displayed, in all past times by the nations which
were most devoted to it; that national strength is most naturally to
be expected in countries where religious differences and disputes
prevail the least, and that Portugal itself, when she transcended all
the European nations in the commercial and military spirit; when
she executed the most romantic projects of conquest and aggran-
dizement, and atchieved the most incredible exploits in navigation
and trade, was as much devoted to that religion as at present, and
even sunk much deeper into superstition.

Though Portugal must be accounted feeble, beyond what her soil,
arts and population would lead us to expect, we may nevertheless,
overrate that weakness, in consequence of judging by comparison,
France and Spain, her nearest neighbors, would be much more pow-
erful than Portugal, if their force bore no larger proportion to their
territory than we find it bears in that kingdom. That Portugal,
therefore, would be in imminent danger of destruction in a contest
with either of these powers, and especially with both of them uni-

―16―

ted, is an obvious consequence of the inequality of territory. And
yet with regard to one of these powers there is no doubt that the re-
lative strength of Portugal is as great, if not greater than that of the
Spanish monarchy. The difference in this respect is glaring only
when Portugal is compared to France or Great Britain. Her actual
inferiority to either of these ought to be great, if her proportional
inferiority were nothing, but her proportional inferiority is undoubt-
edly very great.

The preservation of Portugal from foreign conquest, like that of
Venice and Saxony, during half a century, has been ascribed to the
equipoise subsisting between her powerful neighbours. Though
France, Spain, Holland, Austria, Prussia or Great Britain would,
each of them, have gladly swallowed up these petty states, neither of
them would quietly look on while the prey was seized by another.
The aggrandizement of an enemy operates as a loss or diminution of
our own strength, and the same spirit that would lead Great Britain
or any other power to annex Portugal to her own empire, urges her
to rescue Portugal from being absorbed by a rival.

The security of Portugal was in no visible danger between the
date of the ineffectual attempt made upon her independence by
France and Spain, in seventeen hundred and sixty, and the close of
the first war carried on, under the auspices of Bonaparte, against
Austria. Since that period, the influence of France in the Spanish
councils has been continually growing more despotic, and her tri-
umphs over Austria, Prussia, and Russia have continually diminished
the necessity of moderation or caution in her treatment of Portugal.
Portugal has been violently importuned to forsake her neutrality,
and has been compelled to purchase it by vast pecuniary contribu-
tions. The successful close of the last war with Austria, enabled
France to prosecute her ambitious views with respect to Portugal,
with still less reserve, and her recent triumphs over Prussia and
Russia, put an end altogether to this reserve. If any check could
be supposed to operate against her projects, from the iniquity of
violence, committed on an unoffending state, it vanished when the
attack on Copenhagen was known. Retaliation became then the so-
vereign impulse and avowed law, and no apology was necessary for
pursuing the footsteps of her enemy.

Whatever views might have been entertained by the French em-
peror against the independence of Spain, at the close of the Russian
war, they appear to have been postponed till the long meditated con-
quest of Portugal was completed. The co-operation and assistance
of Spain was necessary to this project, because Portugal is encom-
passed by the Spanish territory, and the great barrier of the Pyren-
nees contributes to the safety of Portugal, as long as Spain is desi-
rous of her preservation. The connivance of Spain, therefore, was
to be purchased by consenting to share with her the spoils of the
vanquished.

The kingdom of Spain has long been under the domination of a
minister, who, from the lowest rank has been exalted by the caprice

―17―

of fortune to the pinnacle of human grandeur. This personage is
Manual Godoy, the prince of peace. In such cases the good will of
a powerful ally is necessary to the interests of a royal favorite, and
the good will of the favorite is no less useful to the foreign state.
Mutual assistance is purchased by mutual favors. The influence of
the present favorite, over a prince verging upon idiocy and dotage,
enslaved by the most ridiculous passions and devoted to the most
childish pursuits, was boundless and despotic, and therefore emi-
nently useful to a foreign power. The disgust and resentment of
the nobles, and the hatred of the royal family, are generally propor-
tioned to the low origin and great exaltation of a favorite, and ren-
dered the countenance and support of the French of the utmost im-
portance to the Spanish minister. It was in consequence of these
circumstances that, in a treaty, secretly ratified at Fontainbleau, be-
tween France and Spain, on the twenty-seventh of October, eighteen
hundred and seven, a treaty by which the parties declared, without
putting themselves to the trouble of justifying their purpose, that
Portugal shall be conquered by their joint force, a portion of that
kingdom, equal in extent to about one half, lying on the south, and
at present divided into the provinces of Algarve and Alentcho, was
to be assigned, in absolute sovereignty, to the prince of peace. This
gift was to wear the shape of the feudal donation or investiture from
Spain to Manuel Godoy and his heirs; but, on failure of heirs, it was
not to revert to the Spanish crown, but to be again immediately
granted to some other, on like conditions. By this stipulation, which
France never intended to fulfil, the ambition of the favorite was
gratified, and his countenance obtained; nor does it appear that any
further concession was necessary for the purpose. The donation of
another province to the king of Etruria cannot be considered as a
favor to Spain, because Etruria itself was in consequence, to be trans-
ferred to France.

Tuscany, which forms the most valuable portion of Italy, was, till
the French revolution, and after the extinction of the Medicean house,
an apenage or temporary kingdom, given to a member of the Aus-
trian family. Austria was obliged to resign it to France, and it was
given to a Spanish prince under the name of Etruria, in exchange
for the principality of Parma. By this treaty, Etruria was again to
be assigned to France, and the prince was to enjoy in exchange that
part of Portugal which is entre Minho and Ducro, under the titleof
Northern Lusitania. This province is scarcely equal in extent to
one third of Etruria, and bears a much less proportion to it in popu-
lation, fertility, and riches.

The king of Northern Lusitania and the prince of Algarva* were
to acknowledge Spain as their protector, and to make no peace or
war without her consent. The seperation or independence, there-

  * The province of Algarba was divided into two kingdoms in the Moorish or
Arabain times, whence, at this day, it is called, technically or officially the
kingdom of the two Algarbas.

―18―

fore, of these states, had all compacts been executed was merely no-
minal. Of the rest of Portugal, including the capital, the destiny
was left to be settled at a general peace. To whomsoever it should
then be given, the same conditions, the same dependence upon Spain
were to take place with regard to these districts as had already been
agreed upon respecting Algarba and Northern Lusitania. In the
mean time these districts were to remain in possession of the
French.

The means by which Portugal was to be reduced into the form
designed, was settled by the treaty. An army of fifty-six thousand
men, was to be dispatched on this service. Sixteen thousand Spaniards
under Spanish generals, were to be directed to this quarter, of which
ten thousand were to attack Entre Minho and Duero, and six thou-
sand were allotted for the conquest of the Algarves. Thirty-three
thousand French and eleven thousand Spanish troops, under French
command, were to compose the army directed against Lisbon and the
middle provinces. This force was very formidable. If there were
not sufficient reasons for securing success by the multiplication of
means, we might be inclined to consider the conquest of Portugal as
by no means an easy task, in the apprehension of the assailants. Some
opposition against which it was proper to provide, might have been
expected from England. Such, however, were the stipulations of
the treaty. There is reason to doubt whether half that force was ac-
tually employed by the assailants, in Portugal.

The colonies and foreign possessions of Portugal could not be
gained by any exertion of military force on the eastern side of the
Atlantic. The parties in this treaty could not flatter themselves with
the acquisition of these provinces. They forbear, therefore, for the
present with commendable caution, the making of any particular di-
vision of the Portuguese dominions in the east and west, and content
themselves merely with agreeing that the partition, when made, shall
be equal.

To gratify that avidity for titles, which is strongest in weak minds,
and is not weak in the most enlightened, the French promise to re-
cognise the right of the Spanish monarch to the title of emperor of
the two America's,* when it shall be convenient to assume it. Mean-
while he guarantees his present dominions south of the Pyrenees to
that monarch.

From this formidable combination what refuge or asylum could
be found by the feeble and timid government of Portugal. All mili-
tary opposition, with their native force, appears to have been renoun-

  * Some, in the United States, have fancied this agreement to imply a promise
to make war upon this part of North America and surrender it to Spain.
Such reasoners forget that the stipulation is merely to recognize a title justified
by the actual dominions of Spain in North America. France has colonies even in
South America, which she certainly intended not to renounce by this treaty,
and even here stipulates for half of the Portuguese dominions in the same
quarter.

―19―

ced without deliberation. Great Britain appears to have regarded
any effort to repel the invasion, by means of an auxilliary army, as
equally hopeless and chimerical.

It was now that one of the most memorable consequences of the
discovery and colonization of America was to take place. Brazil, the
Portuguese colony in South America, had, gradually, in the course
of three centuries, risen to an importance in population and riches,
which bore no contemptible comparison with those of the parent
state. Brazil was destined, in time, to swell into twenty times the
political magnitude of Portugal, and to become the head and not the
subordinate member of that body composed by their union. At that
period the order of reason and nature would demand the transfer of
the seat of government to the American empire. That period is
yet at some distance; but the progress of that colony is already such,
that the emigration of the government thither, though compulsive
and involuntary, can scarcely be considered as an exile. Ancient
habits and local attachments, which would have delayed the emigra-
tion, when the grandeur and opulence of Brazil would have made it
necessary or expedient, may be considered as the chief obstacles at
present. These obstacles appear, indeed, to have been very power-
ful. The ruling prince regarded this alternative with extreme re-
luctance. He would never have embraced it if he had apprehended
less than dethronement, captivity, and perhaps death from the inva-
ders. As it was, irresolution and delay would have been fatal to
this project, if the urgencies, and even threats of the British go-
vernment, and the powerful protection of their navy had not im-
pelled him to the execution.

It is not to be supposed that the French or Spanish government
apprized that of Portugal with the terms of their treaty, which allot-
ted dethronement and captivity to the royal family. Their emigra-
tion to America, by which the colonies would be placed irretrievably
beyond their grasp, and thrown into the power of Great Britain, was
a misfortune to be laboriously prevented. All the demands made
upon Portugal, and to enforce which, the invading army was said to
be intended, was merely the exclusion of British commerce, and the
confiscation of their property. As the danger became more immi-
nent, the Portuguese prince was compelled, though with extreme re-
luctance, to consent to the first of these conditions. In consideration
of the visible necessity, this hostile act was overlooked and permitted
by the British government. The evils of confiscation could be eluded
by the timely departure of the British merchants, and this had like-
wise been submitted to; if by this allowance, Portugal could have
been rescued from the presence of a French army.

―20―

CHAPTER IV.

THE mode by which the French government communicate
their designs with such reasons as are suitable for publication to the
nation at large is, through the medium of a report from a minister of
state to the emperor. In one of these reports, dated on the twenty-
first of October, eighteen hundred and seven, the resentment of
France against Portugal is attempted to be justified by the ridicu-
lous pretence that to suffer the visits of British ships at sea is equiva-
lent to unresisted invasion of our territory, and that a state which
allows these visits has broken its neutrality. The minister likewise
pleaded that the British squadron, bound for La Plata, touched at Ja-
neiro, and received supplies from the ports of Brazil; that the fleets
employed in the Mediterranean, in defending Sicily and attacking
Turkey, were likewise entertained and victualled in the Portuguese
harbours; and that a French consul at Taro, had been imprisoned
and exiled by the Portuguese government, which delayed reparation
for the outrage during three months.

The minister complained, as of a flagrant injury, of the reluctance
and delays of Portugal to enter into war with England; delays by
which the English were enabled to escape the worst effects of an
edict of confiscation. With that contempt of truth and equity, by
which all diplomatic papers, and the conduct of nations, collectively
are universally distinguished, the minister concludes with declaring
that Portugal has driven the emperor into war, in spite of his bene-
volent intentions towards her: that war a painful duty, is imposed
upon him by the interests of the continent.* That the interests of
the continent, from which the British ought to be excluded, forces
France to declare it. The march of the French and Spanish armies
towards Portugal, in October, threw that court into the greatest con-
sternation. They were willing to save themselves by any conces-
sion, from the inpending blow, but the British ambassador, lord
Strangford, gave them no hopes of pacific treatment from Great
Britain, should all the demands of the French be complied with. He
urged the regent to withdraw from Portugal, to retire to Janeiro,
and offered the protection of a British fleet on the passage, and the
cordial alliance of the nation, on his establishment at Brazil. He set
before him in the strongest colours, that his enemies would now be
satisfied with no concession; that his person would be treated by the

  * The interests of the continent, the cause of the continent, is a standing topic of
French rhetoric. By this means they contrive to represent peace with Great
Britain as adverse to the interests and injurious to the honour of the nation who
maintains it. To set things on their true basis and vindicate this injured honor,
they thought proper to overrun the neutral country with a French army, and re-
duce it into servitude to France.

―21―

invaders as that of a criminal, and his territories be conquered and
divided between them; that should he proceed any further in edicts
hostile to Great Britain, she would think herself obliged to prevent
the French from gaining possession of her ships of war, by seizing
them herself, and to treat the coasts and harbours of Portugal as those
of an open enemy.

As war with England was a much less evil than the possession of
his territories by the French, the prince hesitated only from the ap-
prehension that he should not escape from the last, by voluntarily in-
curring the former injury. Attachment to his native country, aver-
sion to a long and uncertain voyage, the certain loss of his European
territories which would follow this voyage, pleaded strongly for his
stay, and disposed him to rely upon the professions of France. On
the other hand his fears for his personal safety, his distrust of the in-
tentions of his enemy, his apprehension that no concession would
rescue his kingdom from conquest and himself from deposition and
captivity, urged him to embrace the offers of the British.

These fluctuating views continued till the eighth of November,
when the prince signed an order for seizing the property and persons
of the British. This order was of little consequence to the interests
of that nation, as the apprehension of this event had induced them to
make use of timely precautions for their safety. As this was the limit
prescribed for the forbearance of the British government, its minis-
ter withdrew, on the seventeenth, to a squadron, under sir Sidney
Smith, which had arrived a few days before at the mouth of the Ta-
gus. A rigorous blockade of the port of Lisbon immediately com-
menced, and preparations were made to anticipate the invaders, by
the seizure of the Portuguese fleet. The naval force of Portugal,
collected at Lisbon, consisted of twelve ships of the line and eight
frigates. Three of the former and the same number of the latter
were unserviceable, but almost all the rest were fit for sea.

On the twenty-seventh of November, the British ambassador re-
turned, in a flag of truce, to Lisbon, and made his final proposal, that
the fleet should either be surrendered to the British, or employed in
conveying the royal family to America. By this time the court ap-
pears to have obtained such evidence of the intentions of the French
as left them no inclination for further delay. In three days after-
wards the royal family embarked, and with a fleet of eight sail of the
line, four large frigates, and smaller vessels to the number, in the
whole, of thirty-six, in conjunction with the British squadron, made
sail for South America.

We are not accurately informed of the extent of this memorable
emigration. How far it included the clergy, nobility, or burghers of
the kingdom, and their moveable property. So large a fleet was ca-
pable of accommodating a vast number of persons, and an immense
mass of personal property; but a more intimate acquaintance with
the state of Portugal, and the relations which subsisted at that time
between the parent country and the colony, than a distant observer
can hope to obtain, is necessary to enable us to determine how far

―22―

these opportunities were seized by the higher classes of the people.
The emotions and conduct of the people on this extraordinary event
were, no doubt remarkable; but we know only that no serious oppo-
sition was made to this removal by those whom chance or necessity
compelled to remain behind. On the day previous to his sailing, the
regent, by a proclmation, acquainted his subjects with his intentions,
and appointed a council to govern Portugal in his absence.

In consequence of this emigration we now see an independent Eu-
ropean kingdom in the southern, as we had previously beheld an
independent European state in the northern portion of America.
This must be considered as the second, as the establishment of the
northern states was the first step in that memorable series of events
which shall separate the eastern from the western continent. A long
civil war was the means by which the first separation was accom-
plished, but the second has appeared to be perfectly tranquil and pa-
cific in relation to the colony itself. Whether this revolution will be
permanent depends upon many circumstances not within the reach
of human foresight. It is highly probable, though not quite certain,
that the court will return to its ancient seat, if the chances of war
should, in a short period, free the country from its invaders. We
can hardly expect to witness that portentous novelty, a district in Eu-
rope politically dependent on a government whose seat is in America.
The longer the deliverance of Portugal is delayed, the return of the
government to Europe becomes less probable, as habit will endear
to the royal family their new abode, and while it diminishes the
ties between them and Europe, strengthens those which connect
them with America.

The influence of this revolution on the internal state of Brazil, can-
not fall to be very considerable. That authority by which all the offi-
cers of government were appointed, no longer resides in another
hemisphere. That policy, by which every part of government was
administered, with a view to maintaining the dependence of the co-
lony on Europe, must now cease. In pursuance of that policy, all
offices were formerly filled by natives of Europe, who cherished a
tender attachment to a remote country, and sought office and emolu-
ment in this with no view but to enjoy the fruits of them elsewhere.
An immense mass of gold and gems was annually remitted to Europe,
without any equivalent, and consumed by the prince, in such a way
as to make it operate like tribute paid to a foreign hostile state. But
these obstacles to internal prosperity are removed by this singular
revolution, and new sources of trade and commerce are opened, by
the strict alliance which necessity compels the new state to maintain
with Great Britain. We may reasonably conclude, therefore, that
the change is highly auspicious to the colony; and however ardently
the emigrants may long to return, the Brazilians themselves have the
strongest reasons for deprecating those events which shall place Por-
tugal in the hands of its ancient masters.

―23―

CHAPTER V.

THE French and Spanish troops appear to have met with no
opposition whatever in their march into Portugal. The principal
cities, Oporto and Lisbon, were gained without parley or capitula-
tion, and the remoter districts submitted without raising an arm, to
and commissaries of the conquerors. The portuguese fleet had
scarcely lost sight of land, before the French army under Junot, en-
tered the metropolis. The usual oppressions of a military govern-
ment, in the compulsory maintenance of a large army, were immedi-
ately experienced by the people of Lisbon. The invaders were
distributed in private houses, whose inhabitants were obliged to fur-
nish them with lodgings, food and light. Though more was occa-
sionally exacted from the people; this seems to be the whole that
was publicly demanded. The burthen consequently was infinitely
less than if provisions were likewise to be supplied. It is impos-
sible, however, at a period so near, and a situation so distant, to
know exactly the system which the French adopted in their treat-
ment of the people.

When a state is desirous of establishing a permament dominion in
a conquered country, the true method of proceeding seems to be
extremely obvious. The people are to be treated as subjects, not as
enemies. Their civil institutions and municipal laws are not to be
suddenly or violently disturbed. Any innovations which may be
useful at once to the new subjects and the new masters, but which
are abhorrent to the prejudices of the former, are to be gradually,
cautiously, and covertly introduced. With regard to public contri-
butions, the ordinary taxes will, of course, be levied by the conque-
rors, but they will not greatly or suddenly augment them, because
this is not to govern but to pillage and despoil the people. They
are treated as irreconcilable enemies, and a temper correspond-
ing to such treatment, cannot fail to be implanted in their minds.

Whether the French government intended to appropriate this
country to themselves, or whether they thought it practicable to effect
this purpose it is difficult to determine. It is certain that they acted
as if their possession was temporary, and as if it was their interest to
turn into their own coffers the whole property of the people. Their
ingenuity in draining a conquered country of its riches, and convert-
ing the spoil to the benefit of the head of the army, or of the state,
has never been equalled in any former time. If the soldier is re-
strained from pillage, it is that his leaders may enjoy a larger share;
and if houses are not sacked and burnt in the first moments of inva-
sion, it is that a more regular inquisition and more methodical de-
mands may glean the field more effectually.

―24―

No sooner had the French forces become masters of the districts
which the secret treaty had allotted to them, than they proceeded to
levy pecuniary contributions on the people. In the first place the
regular excise upon horses, mules, and servants was doubled, and
made payable immediately. All tenants and owners of houses were
compelled to pay half the actual or valued rent. All proprietors of
land were made to pay double tythes. The property of the military
orders was called upon for two-thirds of their income. One-third
of the invoice value, of all English manufactures was exacted from
the holders.

To evince the regard of the conquerors for the religion of the
country, all gold and silver of the churches or religious corporations,
except such silver vessels as they should deem absolutely necessary
to the decency of worship, were required. All prelates and superiors
of religious orders were made to pay two-thirds of their annual in-
come, and three-fourths if their income exceeded eight thousand dol-
lars. Two thirds of their income was exacted from the parochial
clergy, whose livings produced between six hundred and nine hun-
dred dollars per annum, and three-fourths when the income ex-
ceeded the last mentioned sum. In addition to these exactions, more
than twenty millions of dollars were raised by assessment on the peo-
ple at large.

From some exceptions made by the French, it is evident that their
march through the country was attended with dreadful devastations.
Some part of these enormous burthens is not imposed on the districts
traversed by the army in its approach to Lisbon, on account of their
previous sufferings from the soldiers.

The Portuguese nation was thus suddenly exposed to all the mise-
ries of invasion and pillage; but this evil was greatly aggravated by
the hostile proceedings of their former ally. Lisbon, the metropolis
and great emporium was strictly blockaded by a British squadron,
and their commerce, by which the nation had hitherto partly supplied
itself with its daily bread, was wholly at an end. As Great Britain
had hitherto been a greedy market for the staple and principal pro-
ductions of Portugal, as British manufactures had hitherto supplied
their most necessary wants, we may easily imagine the miseries that
overspread the country, in consequence of the total cessation of so
beneficial a traffic. While the exportation to England was sus-
pended, the naval force of that nation prevented any substitute in a
trade with the French empire.*

  * Private and anonymous information is so vague and deceitful, that no con-
scientious historian will venture to rely on it. On this occasion all our intelli-
gence, of this kind, passes through an English channel, and is liable, therefore,
to be perverted by the natural prejudices of an enemy. We have, in a printed
form, a vast mass of intelligence respecting the conduct of the French in Portu-
gal, and the sufferings of the people. The blockade of Lisbon is said to have
even produced a famine in that capital, and the French, we have been told, were
ready to depart, on account of the difficulty of subsistence. All this, however,
was no less inconsistent with probability than with subsequent experience.

―25―

The deliverance of Portugal, by any other means than a general
peace, was quite improbable. Even this event was not likely to ef-
fect it, because Great Britain would not be easily induced to surren-
der any of her own conquests, in exchange for the restoration of a
state which was unable to maintain its own independence, and which
might always be reconquered by a sudden inroad of its neighbours.
Malta, Trinidad, or Gibraltar, by being put in the balance against
this kingdom, would merely be thrown irrevocably away, for Portugal
would be easily regained by those who should resign it; but Malta
or Gibraltar would be gone never to return. Any regular military
efforts by the British nation to expel the French were wholly despe-
rate, while the conqueror was at leisure to pour in new armies, and
raise his numbers to any degree of superiority which he might deem
convenient. While Spain was obliged to co-operate with France
the avenues were always open, and what revolution could be looked
for in the relations between France and Spain, but such as would
increase the subjection of the latter? Large armies of French were
now in garrison in the strongest places of that kingdom: almost all
the regular forces of Spain were employed in remote wars, blended
with superior numbers of the French, and under the command of
French officers. For many years the soldiers and treasures of Spain
had been consigned to French hands, and if no jealousy, suspicion, or
resistance had been made to France, when her armies were employed
in a dangerous and doubtful conflict at a distance, how little reason
was there now to suspect any hostile movement, when Spain was
actually over-run by French troops? It was even the interest of the
enemies of France to check or stifle any tendencies to revolution in
the Spanish councils, because they could only end in the utter sub-
version of that kingdom, and the reduction of it to the state of pro-
vincial servitude to France. Spain was, at present more in the hands
of France than Portugal had been prior to the late revolution; but
since Portugal had done nothing to avert its ignominious destiny,
what could be expected from Spain, whose political infirmities were

  

With respect to the emigration of the government, we have been told that the
principal officers of government, and many of the nobility accompanied the royal
family. That no serious intention to emigrate was harboured by the govern-
ment till the twenty-fourth of November; the embarkation, in consequence,
was effected in great haste and confusion; the vessels were very imperfectly
manned and victualled, and the royal and noble passengers bad time to carry
away only the most valuable of their moveables. The prince is said to have
carried away diamonds to the value of an hundred millions, and specie and
plate to the amount of thirty millions of dollars. Neither of these estimates is
improbable. The personal character and feelings of the prince and his family,
by which, principally, his conduct was dictated, with the intrigues and conten-
tions of the adherents of France and England in his cabinet, are necessary to be
known, in order to form adequate conceptions of this great event: but these
will be the inheritance of a future generation. Volumes might be filled with
plausible inventions and gossiping surmises, but though more entertaining than
the meagre narration we are obliged to give, they would contribute nothing to
our instruction.

―26―

not less, and whose actual disadvantages were greater? The vanity
of human foresight, however, was never more conspicuous than on
this occasion; since, in the short period of six months the world
were astonished witnesses of an unanimous and spontaneous insur-
rection in Spain against the domination of the French, a strict alli-
ance between that nation and Great Britain, the evacuation of Por-
tugal by the Spanish troops, and such a formidable opposition pre-
pared as required the whole military force of France to subdue.

Notwithstanding the defection and hostility of Spain, the French
army in Portugal were sufficient to retain that kingdom in subjection.
The Spanish insurrection appeared as yet but in its rudiments.
They were sufficiently occupied in attempting to dislodge the French
troops from the towns and fortresses in their possession. The
French likewise found ample employment in maintaining their ac-
tual footing, and could spare no part of their force to relive or rein-
force the army in Portugal.

―27―

CHAPTER V.

THE British government made haste to profit by the present
opportunity to expel their enemy from Portugal. Ever since the
capitulation of Copenhagen, they had kept a large military force in
instant readiness for foreign expeditions, and in occasional attempts
to co-operate with Sweden against Russia; and to gain the Spanish
Fortresses in Africa, opposite to Gibraltar. Various circumstances
had frustrated these attempts or induced the commanders to relin-
quish them, till the new aspect of affairs in Spain opened the way into
Portugal.

The English government appears to have been wholly misin-
formed as to the actual number and condition of their enemy in
Portugal, or of the aid which might be expected from the Portu-
guese, either in soldiers or provisions. By some of their officers,
the French army at Lisbon, was reported scarcely to exceed four
thousand men, while subsequent intelligence represented the whole
French force as amounting to fifteen thousand, twelve thousand of
which were collected at the capital. Neither of these statements,
however, proved to be large enough. The Portuguese naturally
exagerated their own zeal, numbers, and equipments, all which
proved, in the issue, to be of little or no consequence to the British
cause.

The army employed on this occasion arrived at the scene of action
from different quarters and at different times. A body of nine thou-
sand men, under sir Arthur Wellesley, sailed from Cork on the
twelfth of July. The British government were unable, from their
ignorance of the real state of Portugal, to give any precise orders to
this commander. The principal design appears to have been the
attack of the French on the banks of the Tagus. General Wellesley
was left very much to the guidance of his own discretion, not only as
to the time and place of action but even whether the Spaniards at As-
turia or Gallicia, or the Portuguese should be assisted. After reach-
ing the coast of Biscay and Gallicia, he found the people of these
provinces in want of no immediate succours, and that their chief ap-
prehension arose from the opportunities which the position of their
enemy in Portugal possessed of assailing and annoying them on that
quarter. He therefore proceeded along the coast, and finally landed
at Montego bay, at no great distance from the Tagus, on the last of
July.

Sir Hew Dalrymple had been sent with an army to dispossess the
Spaniards of the fortresses they held on the coast of Africa. The
strength of these fortresses had combined with the recent changes in
Spain to induce him to relinquish this object, and on the fifteenth of
July he received orders to repair to the coast of Portugal with ten

―28―

thousand troops, and to take upon him the chief command. He did
not, however, embark for this purpose till the thirteenth of the next
month, nor arrived on the coast of Portugal, till the nineteenth of
August.

Sir John Moore was likewise ordered to this scene with a conside-
rable army, but neither of these commanders disembarked till after
the transactions had occurred which determined the fate of the
expedition.

Wellesley was induced by the expectation of reinforcements, both
from England and Portugal to remain at Montego bay till the tenth
of August. He then directed his course towards Lisbon, with a
force of twenty one thousand, of whom twelve thousand and four
hundred only were British troops. Six thousand were Portuguese,
and half that number were Spanish auxilliaries. The French ap-
pear to have made no opposition to their progress till they reached
Caldas, on the fifteenth of August. The next day the possession of
a village called Brilos, was contested by detachments from the two
armies. The French, however, relinquished the contest and permit-
ted the British to advance. The first encounter worthy of notice
took place at Raliea on the seventeenth. This is an eminence at the
upper side of a valley, to the lower end of which the British had al-
ready arrived. The French were stationed on this eminence and
lined it, as well as on the heights which skirted the valley in conside-
rable numbers, and prepared in this advantageous situation, to arrest
the further progress of the invader. The British prepared, by re-
moving this obstacle, to gain possession of several passes or defiles
led among the mountains behind the French.

The French appear to have retreated from all these stations in
the valley and the bordering hills without a battle, but prepared to
defend the defiles in the mountains. These passes were difficult of
access, and the defence of some of them is said to have been obsti-
nate. The French, however, were successively driven from them
all, and the British were enabled to resume their march. The
French force represented as amounting only to six thousand, were
greatly inferior to the assailants, who, however, represent a small
portion of their army as being actually engaged. The English were
extremely deficient in cavalry, in which the French abounded, and
cavalry which is of little or no use in gaining battles in hilly
countries, is of the greatest importance in augmenting and com-
pleting the defeat. Two hundred and fifty men and horses were
killed, wounded or missing in the British army on this occasion.

The march of the British was not seriously obstructed or molested
again, till the twenty first of August. They were, on that day, posted
on some hills encompassing a valley, in which the village Vemeira
is situated, and through which circulates the river Macera. These
hills appear to have been considerable eminences, and extremely fa-
vourable for resisting an assailant. As the invaders were now within
miles of Lisbon, the French were under the necessity of deter-
mining whether they would await the approach of the enemy, and

―29―

prepare for a siege, or make some effort to disturb or destroy him at
a distance. They embraced the latter resolution, and marched tow-
ards him with the larger part of their forces. The two armies ap-
peared in sight at eight o'clock in the morning of the twenty-first of
August, and after many violent and desperate attempts of the French
to dislodge the English from their posts, the assailants were obliged
to retreat with great loss.

The French, after this repulse, had evidently but one course to
pursue. They had made as vigorous an effort as their circumstan-
ces would permit, to cut off the invading army before its numbers
were increased by reinforcements. Sir Hew Dalrymple with the
troops from Gibraltar had already landed, while the army of Moore
was hourly expected. All further efforts to prevent a siege were
therefore hopeless, and a siege might be protracted by skill and cou-
rage, but must inevitably terminate in capture. A retreat, by land,
into Spain, through a hostile territory, was rendered ineligible by
the situation of their countrymen in that kingdom, while the outlets
by sea were guarded by the British squadrons. The besiegers could
derive no supplies from their allies, the Portuguese, but their vici-
nity to the sea enabled them to draw necessaries, of every kind, from
their ships; while the French army and the vast population of the
capital, would speedily exhaust their magazines. They, therefore,
the day after the battle, proposed the evacuation of Portugal, the
terms of which were finally settled on the thirtieth of August.

By this treaty, the French agree to surrender all that they held in
Portugal; and the British agree to transport them, with their arms
and baggage to France, with immediate liberty to serve. The French
reserve all their own artillery, with its horses, and a certain propor-
tion of ammunition, all the equipments and army property, and the
liberty of disposing of their private property. All Frenchmen, or
their allies, in Portugal are to be secured in person and property, and
no Portuguese partisan of France is to be molested or endangered.
The French very generously forbear to exact any further payments
from the Portuguese.

The Russian ships in the port of Lisbon consisted of one eighty-
gun ship, six seventy-fours, two of sixty guns, and one of twenty-six
guns, manned with upwards of five thousand six hundred men. The
treatment due to these ships was a matter of considerable delicacy.
The defection of Russia at the peace of Tilsit, had never excited any
real animosity in Great Britain. That government, therefore was
not indisposed to measures tending to conciliation and forbearance.
The French, on the other hand, were anxious to procure the most
favourable terms for the Russian squadron. They required that it
should be treated as an enemy in a neutral port, or that it should be
suffered to depart without molestation. The utmost, however, that
the British admiral, sir Charles Cotton was willing to grant was, that
these ships should be held by England as a deposit, to be restored
six months after a peace with Russia, while the men should be
conveyed immediately, and not as prisoners of war, to their native
country.

―30―

When intelligence of these successes arrived in England, the na-
tion received them with the utmost exultation. The national vanity,
which arrogated superiority by land as well as sea over the French,
had been somewhat humbled by the victorious progress of their ri-
vals, during so many years. The reverses which had attended their
arms, in Holland and America had lowered their confidence in their
own prowess, much more than their successes in Egypt and Naples
had exalted it. The present event was joyful in proportion as it ex-
ceeded their expectations.

From victories which were considered as signal and absolute the
popular enthusiasm naturally anticipated the total destruction or un-
conditional surrender of the French army; when, therefore, the
news arrived of the convention just concluded, all ranks were seized
with rage and indignation. The exultation produced by the victory
was instantly succeeded by emotions suitable to a total and shameful
defeat. As the victory was gained by Wellesley and the convention
ratified by Darlymple, and as rumours began to circulate that the
conqueror objected to the terms, the flame of discontent was blown
into fresh ardor, and nothing less than senatorial censures, ignomi-
nious trials, and condign punishments seemed to await the unfortu-
nate commander in Portugal.

A stipulation that the French should retain every thing that bore
the name of private property, after seizing all goods which they chose
to consider as of British manufacture, with the greater part of the pre-
cious utensils employed in the service of religion, and after levying
enormous contributions in money, not to mention the obscure rob-
bery and extortion committed without any public warrant by officers
and soldiers, and which dreadfully multiplied after the terms of the
convention had secured to them their spoil, could not but affect the
inhabitants of Portugal with the deepest vexation. They overlooked
the ruinous consequences of a siege to their capital, or fondly ima-
gined that the French would have submitted to harder terms had
they been imposed. The magistrates of Portugal and the Portu-
guese ambassador in London, remonstrated, with great earnestness,
against executing the convention. They were seconded by the cla-
mours of the people, nor did the government conceal its disgust and
displeasure at the tenor of the treaty; but the evil was now past re-
medy. Good faith compelled them to fulfil the contract of their
officers, nor could they do more than promise enquiry and punishment.

It was remarkable that the bickerings of the two allies and the
discontents of the British people, converted the surrender of Portugal
into something like a triumph to France. Though a valuable kingdom
was thus rapidly and fully conquered by their arms, though France
had thus been foiled on the continent which she boasted to be the
theatre of victory and conquest, and where she had so often defied
the encounter of her adversaries, yet to have escaped, without being
stripped and made prisoners, gratified the pride of France as long as
it mortified that of the British.

The public authority in Portugal was exercised in those places
which had been abandoned by the French and Spaniards, by councils

―31―

and committees composed of eminent ecclesiastics or the ancient
magistrates, under the name of juntas. The regency appointed by
the Portuguese government at the time of its embarkation, was not
reinstated in authority till after the recovery of Lisbon. In the mean
time, it was hardly possible that the disgust given to the Portuguese
by the terms of the convention, should not be aggravated by those
acts of military authority which the victorious army occasionally per-
formed. The British were regarded by the people of Portugal as
auxiliaries, who were bound merely to re-establish the native govern-
ment. Whatever did not rigidly conform to this view of things,
was considered as treachery and usurpation, and encountered with
secret murmurs or clamorous remonstrances. The difference, like-
wise, in manners and religion between the foreigners and natives
contributed still further to excite animosity between them.

Bickerings and dissentions of this kind are unavoidable, in all such
cases. They do not appear to have been formidable in the present
case, which can only be ascribed to the helpless situation of the Por-
tuguese, and their absolute dependence for protection, on the con-
tinuance of the British troops among them.

The conduct of the British commander in Portugal was not so
culpable, when viewed in the most unfavorable light, as to expose
him to a court martial. Certain officers, however, were appointed
by the government to constitute a court of enquiry, by whom the
transactions in Portugal, underwent a scrupulous and regular exami-
nation: The court consisted of the generals Nichols, Nugent, Pem-
broke, Heathfield, Dundas, and Moira. They were convened at
Chelsea on the first of November, and made up their final report on
the twenty-seventh of December. The judges, on this occasion, as
might have been expected, in a case where the rectitude of a mere
opinion, built upon a multitude of considerations, and guided by con-
jectures of future, as well as estimates of present circumstances,
were widely different. Six of the judges approved of the armis-
tice, and only one, the earl of Moira, condemned it. Three of them
approved of the convention, and three disapproved; but they all
agreed that the error committed, was not of a criminal nature of
such as to expose the author to military punishment, or even trial.

The British government seized the opportunity afforded them by
this sentence, to express the strongest disapprobation both of the
armistice and the convention. They describe these instruments as
injurious to Great Britain, in the injury which they inflicted on the
Portuguese and Spaniards. No inconvenience arising from protract-
ed operations against Lisbon, either to the British army or the in-
habitants of that capital, is considered as sufficient to outweigh the
disadvantage of suffering the French to carry away their plunder,
and the privilege of immediately serving in Spain. The comman-
der is likewise severely censured for delaying a communication of
the armistice much longer than was proper and convenient when the
due punctuality and dispatch in that particular might have prevented
some of its injurious consequences.