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of the war. We are not ignorant that his statement of the loss suffered both by the French troops and by the people of Madrid, on the eventful 2nd of May, as well as his list of Spaniards executed on the following morning, differs widely from the statements of Dr. Southey and the Spanish historians. The latter represent the loss on both sides as enormous; one Spanish writer computes that of the French at seven thousand, whilst of his own countrymen there fell but two hundred. General Foy, on the other hand, declares that, during the tumult, the loss of the French amounted to three hundred in killed and wounded, that of the Spaniards to something less. He moreover affirms that the multitude of executions did not exceed the number of fifty. He acknowledges, however, in common with all other writers on the subject, that the consequence of that bloody day was a general rising in every province, district, town, and almost village, of Spain. Juntas were formed which, in the name of Ferdinand VII., declared war against France; the populace everywhere flew to arms; Frenchmen, and the emissaries of France, were put to death in all quarters, where they fell into the hands of the infuriated mob; and Murat found that, in spite of his occupation of the capital, and of all the principal fortresses of the country, he was as far from being master of Spain, as he was when he first planted foot upon the Spanish soil. Of the effects of this popular feeling, and the military movements which occurred upon it, our author gives an extremely simple and unvarnished account. He relates several instances of barbarity on the part of the patriots, particularly at Valentia, where upwards of two hundred French merchants were butchered in cold blood; but he attributes them all, with a singular degree of candour, to the feelings of the moment, worked upon for bad purposes, and by a few designing individuals. He gives likewise a very just and clear detail of the capture of the French fleet at Cadiz ; of the affair at the bridge of Acolia, where Dupont commanded; of the expedition of Moncey against Valencia, his repulse and retreat; and of the enthusiasm with which the people of England welcomed the deputies from Spain, and prepared to comply with their demands of assistance.

The same spirit of candour characterizes his narrative of other, and no less important events. He describes the entrance of Joseph into his new kingdom as resembling rather a funeral procession than a triumphant progress; and whilst he attributes to the usurper himself numerous good qualities, both of head and heart, he seeks not to disguise the universal abhorrence in which he was held by the Spanish people. He gives the particna. lars of the action at Medino del Rio Seco, with the tact of a soldier,

and

their most ever claims formes or faults of

and in the language of a man of sense ; and he records the disaster at Baylen with the very same absence of all equivocation or disguise. To the Saragossans he allows their full meed of praise for the defence of the city against the first effort of Lefebvre : he enters fully and fairly into the merits of the numerous skirmishes which marked the progress of the war in Catalonia; in a word, he never conceals the misfortunes or faults of his own countrymen, and he never claims for them a higher degree of merit than their most bitter enemies will allow them,

-that of being infinitely superior, in point of discipline and stubborn valour, to the raw levies which, for the most part, opposed them.

A heavy requisition of money for the payment of his troops, as well as the display of the French eagles on the towers of their city, soon taught the inhabitants of Lisbon what they had to expect from Marshal Junot, and the feeling of indignation which these excited soon burst forth into acts of open hostility. Oporto was the first place of importance which raised the standard of revolt. There were in garrison there, under the orders of General Quesnel, several battalions of Spanish troops, which, as soon as they became aware of the state of things in their own country, made haste to free themselves from a foreign yoke, and to join their comrades in the great work of national deliverance. These rose upon their commandant, and having committed him a prisoner into the hands of the civil authorities, departed towards Galicia. The heads of departments at Oporto were not, however, possessed of sufficient firmness to turn this movement to a full account; the proximity of Junot's army overawed them, and the national flag had not been displayed three days, when it was once more torn down. But the French governor was soon afterwards cast into prison; the people proclaimed the Prince Regent; a junta, having the aged bishop at its head, took upon itself the direction of affairs

—and the insurrection began. Coimbra, from a nursery of science, and the cradle of peace, was converted into a depôt of warlike instruments. Priests, monks, students, retired soldiers, peasants—all classes of society, simultaneously flew to arms.

The news of a general rising, and the approach of succours from England, filled Junot with the greatest alarm. At first he endeavoured, by conciliatory proclamations, to bring the Portuguese back to obedience. But his efforts proved unavailing, and he had recourse to violence.

The first precaution taken was to disarm, and confine on board of certain hulks that lay in the river, the six thousand Spanish soldiers which formed part of the grand army of Portugal. That

done,

similar fate were routed, sira. There, a Marga

done, General Loison was dispatched to reduce Oporto, and to inflict summary punishment on the leaders of the conspiracy. Loison never got farther on his route than Pezo-da-Regoa. In passing through the defile there, his column was suddenly assailed, and compelled to retire. It was not so with the corps which, under the guidance of General Margaron, made haste to quell the rebellion in Leira. There, after a feeble resistance, the patriots were routed, and the town given up to pillage. A similar fate betel Evora, and Portugal became one vast theatre of warfare,

The French marshal was kept in continual dread of the landing of an English army, and the forcing of the passage of the Tagus by an English fleet. Admiral Cotton had long hovered about the coast, and a corps of six thousand men, under General Spencer, was known to have made its appearance, though it had since withdrawn. At last the storm burst. A British army, under the command of Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur Wellesley, landed on the shores of Mondego; and, being joined by General Spencer's division, was represented as amounting to thirteen thousand three hundred men. Junot was not ignorant that this force formed but the advanced-guard of a more numerous body. Loison, Margaron, and the other officers detached, received orders to fall back upon the main body without delay; whilst General Delaborde was sent forward with his division, to watch the movements of the English, and to retard their progress.. Sir Arthur Wellesley had been joined by a corps of seven thousand Portuguese, tolerably organised, but wretchedly armed, under the command of General Bernardin Freyre. Whilst the enemy were yet distant, it was agreed between the two leaders, that the columns should act in concert, and that both should advance upon Lisbon ; but intelligence of the preparations made by Junot induced a change of plan. The Portuguese proposed to take a direction out of the line of fire; the English general, not sorry to free himself of men on whom he could place no reliance, very readily assented to the proposal. A few cavalry, and about five hundred infantry, which he incorporated with his own troops, alone followed him; and with these, which, according to Foy, made his whole force amount to fifteen thousand men, he took the direct road to the capital.

Sir Arthur Wellesley, leaving his baggage and tents at Leira, bivouacked, on the 13th of August, at Calvana; on the 14th, at Alcobaça; and on the 15th, at Caldas. Here, for the first time, the light troops of the English came into contact with the advance of Delaborde's army, which had taken up a

commanding

misition, having that Genstersion of the vithdrawn. ticked

commanding position near the village of Roliça; and, as General Foy would have us believe, they were beaten. The fact we know to be, that a few riflemen, having driven in a piquet of the enemy, followed them too far; and being attacked by superior numbers, were with difficulty withdrawn. In the end, however, they retained possession of the village of Obidos.

We have said, that General Delaborde had taken up a strong position, having its point d'appui at Roliça; in which he determined to await the approach of Sir Arthur Wellesley, and to give him battle. The French corps under his command is estimated, by General Foy, at two thousand five hundred men; in the official dispatch of Sir Arthur Wellesley it is computed at six thousand. There is some difference here, certainly; and the question, therefore, is, which statement is the more probable. Now we must confess, that in spite of our conviction of the superiority of General Foy's sources of information, over those possessed by the English general, we cannot receive his statement as accurate. Perhaps, Sir Arthur estimated the force opposed to him too highly; to this all men, filling a similar situation to that which he filled, are liable; but Delaborde would have been justly liable to a charge of the grossest folly, had he, with only two thousand five hundred men, risked an action, on any position, against fifteen thousand. We have reason to believe that the French corps engaged on that day, exceeded four thousand men; and the nature of the ground which it occupied made it a match for triple its numbers. General Foy's description of the battle is a good one, though there is much in it to make us smile ; yet he speaks truth when he affirms, that the daring regularity of the French retreat excited the respect of their enemies. British soldiers are never backward in granting respect to a brave enemy. The French are brave, and on that day their bravery was even more conspicuous than it came to be, after they and we had come repeatedly into contact.

Of the consequences of the victory at Roliça, and the issues of the second day, when the French and English armies again met on the heights of Vimiero, none of our readers can be ignorant. The enemy were again overthrown, and with a loss which, according to the admission of their own historian, surpassed that of the English, by almost four to one. It is true, that General Foy once more endeavours to represent the numerical disparity between the contending armies as enormous. He speaks of the English as bringing seventeen thousand men into the field; whilst the French force hardly amounted to eleven thousand. But this, we can forgive, especially as, in his detail

took, of the of the advantage high Junot wast a very fair reral

of the action, he does little injustice either to the talents of the English general, or the cool intrepidity of the English troops.

We are not going to enter into any detail of the convention of Cintra, or its results; the reader, who has any taste for such subjects, will find it amply gratified in these volumes. General Foy has given a very full, and we doubt not a very fair relation of the condition to which Junot was reduced by the battle; and of the advantage which he and his agent Kellerman took, of the imbecility of poor old Sir Hew Dalrymple. He speaks, indeed, of the English generally, as if victory were to them something so novel as that they knew not how to avail themselves of it; whilst he represents his own chief as big with daring determinations, which he was prevented from carrying into effect, only by the timidity or treachery of the Russian admiral. All this is very natural; and if, in the perusal of his remarks, the French army derive any comfort, God forbid that we should seek to deprive them of it.

Note.—There is a note, somewhere about the end of his chapter on England, in which General Foy expresses himself concerning the Duke of Wellington, in terms which are worthy of the severest reprobation, and which almost make us regret having noticed his work at all. This language is utterly unworthy of an able man; and we take comfort in persuading ourselves, that the whole must be an interpolation of some of his Editors. Our readers are aware that the History is a posthumous publication.

Art. VI. Römische Geschichte. Von B. G. Niebuhr, Mitglied

der K. Academie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin. Zweite, völlig umgearbeitete Ausgabe. Berlin. G. Reimer. 1827. A LONG time elapsed from the revival of letters in Europe, n before any one thought seriously of doubting the truth of the facts, or the soundness of the deductions, which we find in the Roman historians. The tales of Livy passed unquestioned, and few dreamt of inquiring into the nature of his materials, or questioning his fitness for writing an impartial history. But the legendary tales of early Rome, which were dressed, indeed, in all the ornaments of style and composition, in point of authenticity, are not more valuable than the annals of Geoffrey of Moninouth.

These tales were carefully collected by Rollin and others of his class; but when the Meursii, and Lipsii, and Grævii, and Vossii, and such learned, laborious, and useful men had cleared the ground of speculation, another spirit speedily arose, and the day of philosophical criticism began. The Romans had stigmatized Greece with the title of mendax,—and another race returned the compliment upon themselves.

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