their own country. It followed, therefore, that when the British troops advanced into the interior districts of the Peninsula, any considerable failure in their supplies, or any blow struck by the enemy at their communications, threatened them with total ruin.

The French, on the other hand, fearlessly plunged into the most desolate provinces, regardless of their flanks or rear; and, without magazines or communications, they wrenched from the inhabitants supplies for a long period in a country where a British regiment could not, or rather would not, find subsistence for a single week. "The mode," says the Duke of Wellington, "in which they provide for their armies is this. They plunder everything they find in the country: they force from the inhabitants, under pain of death, all that they have in their houses for the consumption of the year, without payment, and are indifferent respecting the consequences to the unfortunate people. Every article, whether of food or raiment, and every animal and vehicle of every description, is considered to belong of right to the French army, and they require a communication with their rear only for the purpose of conveying intelligence and receiving orders from the Emperor."

It is easy to see what immense advantages an army acting on these principles, must necessarily possess over another that conforms strictly to the rule of equity, and takes nothing from the inhabitants without returning a full equivalent. The one is always free in its movements, the other is often embarrassed and constantly in danger.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

EVENTS OF 1810; CAMPAIGN OF TORRES VEDRAS.

THE campaign of Wagram had, by its results, elevated Napoleon to the highest point of military and political greatness. Resistance seemed impossible against a power which had vanquished nearly all the armies. of Europe, and contest hopeless with a state which had emerged victorious from eighteen years of warfare.

What, then, was wanting to a sovereign surrounded with such glory and wielding such power? Even this: historic descent and ancestral renown; and for this one deficiency, all the achievements of Napoleon afforded no adequate compensation. The present could not always fascinate mankind; the splendor of existing fame could not entirely obliterate the remembrance of departed virtue: the rapid fall of preceding dynasties founded on individual greatness recurred in painful clearness to the mind; and the truth was too obvious to be denied or overlooked, that in the next generation an infant of another race might successfully lay claim to the magnificent inheritance of the Empire.

With these views, an heir to perpetuate his dynasty became a matter of paramount necessity to Napoleon; and he had long meditated the divorce of Josephine, and a marriage with some princess who might bear children to succeed him. But he did not feel the unconcern so common to sovereigns in projecting this momentous separation. His union with

the Empress had not been founded on reasons of state, or contracted with a view to political aggrandizement. It was formed in early youth, based on romantic attachment, interwoven with all his fortunes, and associated with his most interesting recollections. Still, these feelings were, with Napoleon, subordinate to considerations of public policy; and, whatever pain the severance of these ties might cost him, he did not for one moment swerve from the stern resolution he had adopted. The question, therefore, was debated in the Council of State as a matter of mere national expediency, without the slightest regard to private inclinations or oppressed virtue. It was at length resolved to make advances to the courts both of St. Petersburg and Vienna; and, without committing the Emperor positively to either, to be governed by the progress of events as to a final decision.

Napoleon made this heart-rending communication to Josephine at Fontainebleau, in November, 1809, whither she had hastened to meet him, on his return from Wagram; and though he at first received her with kindness, she was not long in perceiving, from the restraint and embarrassment of his manner, that the blow which her observing mind had already led her to forebode, was in truth about to fall upon her. After fifteen days of painful suspense, her doubts and fears were brought to a conclusion on the 30th of November. The royal pair had, on that day, dined together as usual, but neither spoke a word during the repast; and, when it was finished, Napoleon dismissed the attendants, approached the Empress with a trembling step, took her hand and laid it on his heart, saying, "Josephine, my good Josephine, you know how I have loved you: it is to you alone that I owe the few moments of happiness I have had in the world. But, Josephine, my destiny is more powerful than my will: my dearest affections must yield to the interests of France." Say no more, cried Josephine: "I expected this-I understand and feel for you-butthe stroke is not the less mortal." With these words, she uttered a piercing shriek and fainted away.

A painful duty was now imposed on the persons concerned in this exalted drama-that of assigning their motives and playing their parts in its last scene before the great audience of the world. On the 15th of December, the kings, princes and princesses of the Imperial family were assembled in the Tuileries, and addressed first by Napoleon, who announced his resolution and the motives which led to it. Josephire replied with a faltering voice and tears in her eyes, but in words worthy of the occasion. "I respond," said she, "to the Emperor's sentiments in consenting to the dissolution of a marriage which has become an obstacle to the happiness of France. The union that he contemplates will in no respect change the feelings of my heart, and the Emperor will ever find in me his best friend. I know what this act, commanded by policy and exalted interests, has cost him; but we both glory in the sacrifices which we make for the good of our country: I feel elevated by giving the greatest proof of attachment and devotion that was ever given upon earth." But, though Josephine used this language in public, she was far from feeling the same equanimity in her hours of retirement. She was constantly in tears, she appealed in vain to the Emperor and the pope for protection, and her grief was so violent and long continued, that for many months her eyesight became seriously impaired.

The subsequent arrangements were rapidly completed. On the same

day, the marriage was dissolved by an act of the Senate, the jointure of Josephine fixed at two millions of francs, and Malmaison assigned as her place of residence. Caulincourt and Maret were then instructed to make immediate proposals to the two courts of St. Petersburg and Vienna for an alliance. The former, in his negotiations with Russia, encountered delay and evasion; but Maret's advances were promptly met by Austria. Preliminaries were soon adjusted. The marriage contract was signed at Paris on the 7th, and at Vienna on the 16th of February; and on the 11th of March the marriage was celebrated at Vienna with great pomp: Berthier demanding the hand of the Archduchess Marie Louise, and the Archduke Charles standing proxy for Napoleon. On the day after the ceremony, the new Empress set out from Vienna, and was received at Braunau by the Queen of Naples. She there separated from her Austrian attendants, and continued her journey by short stages, surrounded by the pomp of splendor and the fatigues of etiquette, to the neighborhood of Paris.

The matrimonial alliance of Napoleon was too important an element in the balance of European power, to be disposed of without producing deep impressions in the minds of those who might deem themselves slighted on the occasion. Alexander, though not anxious for the connexion, was piqued in no ordinary degree at the haste with which the marriage had been concluded, and he felt especially annoyed that the hand of his sister should have been in effect discarded, while the proposals for it were yet under consideration at St. Petersburg. The event confirmed the estrangement of feeling toward Napoleon which, on his part, had been some time increasing; and this fact had an important bearing on the French Emperor's future career.

Difficulties of some moment occurred about the same time between Napoleon and his brother Louis, King of Holland. He had long been dissatisfied with Louis's government of the Dutch provinces; for that sovereign, sensible that the existence of his subjects depended on their commerce, had done all in his power to soften the hardships they endured, and purposely avoided enforcing the decrees against English trade with the rigor demanded by the Emperor. Napoleon resented this disregard of his orders by compelling Louis to cede to France the Dutch territories on the left bank of the Rhine, including Walcheren, South Beveland and Cadsand, which he formed into a new department styled the Mouth of the Scheldt. This exaction was followed by a series of indignities which at length induced the king to resign the crown in favor of his son, Napoleon Louis, after which he set out privately for Toplitz, in Bohemia. His abdication took place on the 1st of July; and on the 9th, Napoleon issued a decree incorporating the whole kingdom of Holland with the French Empire.

The Emperor soon after came to an open rupture with his brother Lucien. The difficulty originated in the refusal of the latter to divorce his wife, an American lady, in order to wed a princess selected for him by Napoleon. He first removed to Rome; but, being unable there to escape the tyrant's persecution, he set sail for America. A British frigate captured his vessel on its voyage, and he was taken to Malta, but subsequently liberated to reside on parole in the British dominions. Letters from Joseph were about the same time intercepted by the Spanish guerillas, complaining of the rigorous mandates he had received from the

Emperor, and declaring a wish to resign his crown and retire to private life. Thus, while the Emperors of Russia and Austria were negotiating for the honor of Napoleon's hand, his own brothers preferred to take up their abode with his enemies rather than endure the tyranny of his imperious temper.

The alliance with Austria having relieved Napoleon from all apprehension of Germanic interference, he determined to complete the subjugation of the Peninsula, and moved across the Pyrenees a large portion of the troops engaged in the campaign of Wagram. His entire forces amounted, early in the year, to three hundred and sixty-six thousand men. On the 20th of January, an army sixty-five thousand strong, under the nominal command of Joseph, but really directed by Soult, commenced operations in Andalusia; and the Spanish forces were so completely broken in that province, that the invaders readily made themselves masters of Granada, Seville and Malaga, within the space of a fortnight. Nothing now was necessary to bring the campaign to a close in this quarter but the capture of Cadiz; and Victor hastened on to secure that town. The Duke of Albuquerque, however, aware of the vital importance of maintaining this place, pressed forward with nine thousand men to its relief; and, by forced marches, succeeded in reaching it before the French troops arrived. He immediately destroyed the bridge of Zuazo and put the fortifications and garrison into an effective condition, in which undertaking he was greatly aided by the English fleet in the bay, and by a reënforcement of five thousand British and Portuguese troops, dispatched to his aid by Wellington. These movements saved Cadiz: and as several members of the Central Junta had there taken refuge from the French pursuit, they now convened the legitimate government in a regular form, and continued to administer it, in this place of security, despite all the power of Napoleon. When Soult arrived in front of Cadiz, he found that it was safe from all approaches but a regular siege, and he contented himself with establishing around it a rigid blockade.

This conquest of the greater part of Andalusia, was followed by similar success in Catalonia, where the French forces were commanded by Suchet and Augereau. The latter general did not, indeed, display his usual activity, and Napoleon was at length so dissatisfied with his progress that he sent Macdonald to supersede him; but in the meantime Suchet had overrun the province and captured Hostalrich, Mequinenza and Lerida.

The forces directed against Portugal, in May of this year, were very formidable. The three corps of Ney, Regnier and Junot, under the immediate command of Massena, amounted to eighty-six thousand veteran soldiers. A reserve of twenty-two thousand, under Drouet, lay at Valladolid; and General Serras, with fifteen thousand, covered the right of the army toward Benevente and Leon. The rear and communications of the French troops were protected by Bessières with twenty-six thousand men. To meet this great array, Wellington's entire strength did not exceed twenty-five thousand British soldiers and thirty thousand Portuguese regulars, in addition to some thirty thousand native militia; but the last of these were of no value in the field, and useful only in desultory operations, while the Portuguese regulars were far inferior to both the British and French troops; so that Wellington's efficient force could hardly be estimated at more than one third the strength of his opponents. Under these circumstances, the opening of the campaign was conducted on his part by strictly defensive operations.

Massena took command of his army on the first of June, and imme. diately invested the fortress of Ciudad Rodrigo, which surrendered to his arms on the 10th of July, and on the 15th Almeida was also forced to capitulate. Wellington deliberately withdrew from these two fortresses as Massena advanced to besiege them, because he was not strong enough to resist, in such positions, the whole French army, and because, in regard to Ciudad Rodrigo, his present duties required him not to relieve the towns of Spain, but to protect the territories of Portugal.

Wellington therefore retreated down the valley of the Mondego, whither he was followed by Massena on the 21st of September; but at length, finding that his men were losing courage under the influence of a continued retrograde movement, and that the nature of the country offered more facilities for defence than the ground he had previously traversed, he took post at Busaco on the 26th, and determined to give battle to the French commander.

Massena was not ignorant of the strength of Wellington's position or the danger of his own; for while lying at the foot of the ridge of Busaco, he learned that Colonel Trant, commanding ten regiments of militia, had attacked his reserve artillery and military chest near Tojal, and captured the whole, together with eight hundred prisoners; and he learned, further, that his communications with the Spanish frontier were for the time cut off by the Portuguese light troops. But Napoleon's orders were peremptory for his advance, and his situation was such that he must necessarily fight or retreat. He therefore commenced an assault at daybreak on the 27th. The troops of the allied army lay, during the night, in dense masses on the summit of the mountains, and were not yet astir when Ney's column, twenty-five thousand strong, approached their left by the great road leading to the Convent, and Regnier moved against their right, about three miles distant, by St. Antonio de Cantara. Ney's corps first came into action under Loison, whose division formed the advanced guard of the attack. His men pushed bravely up the hill, despite the utmost efforts of Crawford's artillery, gained the edge of the mountain, and began to rend the air with their shouts, when Crawford ordered the 43rd and 52nd regiments to charge from a hollow where they lay concealed. In a moment, eighteen hundred British bayonets sparkled over the crest of the hill; Loison's soldiers wavered, their flanks were overlapped, and as the English infantry came to the charge, after pouring in upon them three terrible volleys at a few yards' distance, they broke and rushed headlong into the valley below. Regnier, on the British right, met with no better success. His troops at first gained the summit of the ridge in defiance of every attempt at resistance; but when they began to deploy in order to make good their position, they were charged by Generals Leith and Picton with such impetuosity, that they fled in utter disorder and with great loss down the sides of the declivity. Massena, seeing at length that he could make no impression on Wellington's lines, drew off his troops, after having sustained a loss of nearly two thousand killed and three thousand wounded; while the killed and wounded of the allies were scarcely thirteen hundred men.

The French marshal, however, did not abandon his efforts, but resolved to undertake, by a flank movement, what an attack in front had failed to accomplish. He therefore, on the day following, moved by his own right. through a pass in the mountains leading to Sardao, which brought him on