Marshal Berthier was raised to the dignity of Vice-Constable of the Empire, and my share in the rewards given was a ribbon and a sum of money. Probably now (1845) I should have been made a Marshal of France for the same services.

I resumed my painting with a happy heart, and had a good many of my pictures engraved.

I had scarcely got to Paris, however, before I received orders from the Emperor to go to Dantzig and Warsaw to examine the army on the Vistula, and return to report on its condition. Then when I got back once more to Paris I had to start off again with my horses and carriages for Burgos in Spain.

I passed rapidly from the cold dreary and sandy flats of Poland to the beautiful country of Spain, where beneath the warm sunshine of the South fresh verdure and sweet-smelling flowers flourish even on the slopes of the lofty mountains.

The troops of the Emperor had been received as friends throughout the Peninsula, and now occupied Pampeluna, Burgos, Madrid, Cordova, and Barcelona. In Portugal Junot held Lisbon in place of the Princes of the Royal Family of Braganza, who had embarked for Brazil. Everywhere our soldiers were welcomed as liberators, and all along my route I found towns, villages, and even isolated houses prepared to celebrate the expected arrival of the Emperor. On every road laurel branches had been cut down to form triumphal arches beneath which the Emperor of Europe, the redresser of the grievances of the people, was to pass. My comrades and I, who had come to announce his approach, came in for some of the enthusiasm which his presence was later to arouse.

The Spaniards had long been discontented at the position occupied by Manuel de Godoy, surnamed the Prince of the Peace,¹ who had risen from the ranks to the position of Prime Minister, and was now absolute master of Spain.

¹ So named on account of the share he took in the Treaty of Basel in 1795. This Godoy was practically King of Spain, the Queen being entirely under his influence, whilst the King was a mere cipher. – Trans.

Our troops had been welcomed in Spain itself; Spanish sailors had shed their blood in our service at Trafalgar; a Spanish army, under the Marquis de la Romaña, had fought side by side with the French in the remote districts of Germany, and the loyal populace, who now received us as if we were their brothers, impatiently awaited the day when the emperor should arrive at Madrid. They hoped that he would remove the hated minister and restore the royal authority to Charles IV. or place it in the hands of his son Ferdinand, Prince of Asturias, who was unfortunately on very bad terms with his father.

The friends of the Prince of Asturias took advantage of the family dissensions to prepare an émeute against the Minister, Don Godoy, who, defended though he was by the royal carabineers, was to be assassinated and burnt in his palace. In the struggle the King was compelled to abdicate in favour of his son, but the very same day he wrote to the Emperor protesting against this forced resignation of his throne and asking him to become the arbiter of his fate.

The Emperor received the news at Bayonne, and summoned the Prince of Asturias before him to give an account of his conduct. About the same time a rumour began to spread amongst us that the Emperor meant to place the crown of Spain on the head of one of his own brothers or generals, and the event proved that the rumour was not without foundation.

The Emperor, however, was still hesitating, when Talleyrand said to him on April 24, 1808, ‘What policy suggests, justice authorises.’ Needless to say the Spanish did not agree with him.

Murat was now at Madrid at the head of an army, and in compliance with the wish of the Emperor he lost no time in urging the Prince of Asturias to go to Bayonne.

That prince having taken the title of King of Spain after the revolution of Aranjuez, set off accompanied by a hundred men belonging to his father’s bodyguard, to which an escort so strong had been added that I could not help suspecting that he was to be taken prisoner.¹ An officer who was a friend of mine went on in advance, taking with him back to France the sword of Francis I. He had received certain confidential instructions, and the grief he manifested at their tenor confirmed me in the opinion I had formed as to the false and cruel position in which we were soon to find ourselves.

¹ Lejeune was right. The Prince would gladly have turned back but for his French escort. – Trans.

I had the honour of saluting the Prince of Asturias as he rode through Burgos surrounded by his guards and preceded and followed by strong detachments of French cavalry. I was sorely tempted to give him a private hint to escape and not to go to Bayonne, but to save a prince who inspired me with very little personal interest I should have had to betray the Emperor. The situation was very grave, and with deep regret I confined myself to my narrow round of duties, leaving wider issues in the hands of Providence.

On his arrival at Vittoria the Prince began to suspect the trap prepared for him, and under various pretexts put off his departure. But the task of taking him to Bayonne had been confided to a man who knew what he was about, and when the unlucky Prince realised the impossibility of escaping from his escort, he allowed himself to be led whither they would without resistance. Those Frenchmen who had any foresight and who were without unworthy ambition shuddered at the way in which a loyal nation was about to be treated, whilst others who hoped for profit to themselves applauded the measures about to be taken, which, moreover, they were told were necessary for the regeneration of an effete race of monarchs no longer equal to the task of government.

About the same time a scene took place at Pampeluna, serious enough in its bearing yet also amusing, which did much to open the eyes of the Spanish to the nature of the protection they were to receive from the French armies they had welcomed so cordially.

General Darmagnac, with several French regiments, had been received in the town of Pampeluna, but the citadel was still occupied by Spaniards, when the French general, inspired by secret orders, sought about for some means of surprising the garrison.

For several days the country had been covered with snow, and our soldiers amused themselves with pelting each other with snowballs upon the glacis of the fort. The Spanish soldiers looking down from their lofty ramparts took a lively interest in the sport, and Darmagnac, hearing of this, turned it very cleverly to account. He increased the number of combatants and passed the word to them. Amidst shouts of laughter the first assailants were covered with a hail of pellets of snow and forced to retreat. They could only escape by taking refuge in the citadel, and the friendly Spaniards hurled all the snow from the parapets on to the victors and received the defeated within their gates and in their casemates, gaily helping to prolong the struggle. But the aim of the French had been achieved: the gates had been stormed, and the French battalion, bringing out their hidden weapons, took possession of the citadel, and set to work to insure its retention.

King Charles IV. and his Queen soon followed their son and betook themselves to Bayonne, receiving every possible honour all along their route. On their arrival the Prince of Asturias, with those of the Spanish nobles assembled at Bayonne, hastened to do them homage, but the King waved them back, saying in a severe tone, ‘Have you not outraged my white hairs enough?’ on which they all retired covered with confusion.

The Emperor and Empress lost no time in calling upon their August visitors, and after the first compliments had been exchanged, the old King and Queen with true Spanish prolixity treated the Emperor to a long account of the ingratitude of their son and all the insults he had heaped on them during the last month. After listening to the long explanations the Emperor refused to recognise the abdication of Charles IV. and restored to him his royal prerogatives.¹ This decision irritated the people of Madrid, who were very proud of the victory they had won at Aranjuez on March 19, when they had dethroned their king.² They refused to recognise his authority, and the French were often insulted. Hostile gatherings became daily more numerous and menacing, and at last on May 2 our officers and men were attacked in the streets, and the Grand Duke of Berg caused the assembly to be beaten. The French garrison rushed out and attacked the rebels. The enemy had already taken possession of the arsenal, where they seized 10,000 muskets, but our musketry fire, with the discharge of grape shot from our guns, and the charges of our cavalry, dispersed their numerous gatherings. They then went into the houses to aim at us from the windows, but our soldiers forced open the doors and 2,000 mutineers perished at the point of the bayonet. The armed peasants who flocked in from the country to take part in the revolt were pursued by our cavalry, who cut down and killed a great number. The Spanish troops took absolutely no part in the rising of the people, and order was soon restored.

¹ In name only; he was never allowed to exercise power again. – Trans.
² For a very able account of the events preceding the giving of the crown of Spain to Napoleon’s brother see the Marbot Memoirs, vol. i. chaps. xxxv. and xxxvi. – Trans.

Very much the same thing happened at Burgos, where I was on the same day, and the results were exactly similar. I was just going to make a sketch, on the Arlanson Quay, of the beautiful bas-relief on the gate of the bridge, when I heard the cry, ‘Death to the French!’ and several musket shots.

I ran as fast as I could to the guard in the Plaza Mayor, where our troops were under arms and ready for battle. It was the same with the rest of the French soldiers in the town, and, sudden as was the attack of the conspirators, they did not succeed in surprising or taking a single one of our posts.

We lost a few men from cross shots, but the shots fired by the compact crowd, which charged us at a run, exhausted their ammunition and left them disarmed, whilst our repeated orderly discharges at close quarters soon swept the place clear of our assailants. Marshal Berthier, with troops hastily called out, hurried to our assistance. The whole affair lasted but one hour, and order and discipline were everywhere completely restored. I must do the people of Burgos the justice to add that not a single assassination took place on this occasion.

After the events of May 2, the Grand Duke of Berg established a junta at Madrid for the management of affairs, and he was recognised as its head with the title of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom. On this eventful day he had saved the life of Don Godoy, Prince of the Peace, when the people had tried to burn him in the palace in which he had been compelled to take refuge. A few days later the Grand Duke sent Don Godoy to Bayonne in safety. If the Emperor had had the wisdom to prevent the rising of May 2, and had constituted himself judge of the misdeeds with which the Prince of the Peace was charged, and after condemning him had allowed him to escape, he would have met the wishes of the people of Spain; and, whilst leaving to them their own princes, he would have gained all he really wanted in their country. The conduct of the Emperor under the circumstances seemed to be altogether opposed to his usual able policy. The events which had occurred caused universal uneasiness, and I remember that my friends Alfred de Noailles and Ferreri, who lived with me, talked a great deal about how these things would affect France.

There was very great excitement in Spain, and we at Burgos were eager for news from Bayonne. One day we heard that Ferdinand VII., the Prince of Asturias, had been sent as a prisoner to Valencia, the next that the King and Queen of Spain with the Prince of the Peace were on their way to Fontainebleau. A little later I received orders to join the Emperor immediately.

I started at once at full speed, and in twenty-three hours I had done the 110 leagues between Burgos and Bayonne. Directly I arrived Berthier took me to the Emperor, who said to me, ‘I know you are fond of Bernadotte, and I have chosen you to take him some news which will please him. In consequence of the disputes between the King and Queen of Spain and their son, I have accepted their abdication of the throne in favour of my brother Joseph, King of Naples; go and tell Bernadotte, who is his father-in-law, he will be gratified. You will tell the Marquis de la Romaña and the troops under his orders the same thing, and add that in my brother they will have a king who, by his attention to their wishes and care for their success and glory, will merit their affection. In fact, tell them all the good things I think about my brother. Go and rest for an hour, and then start again. Berthier will give you the despatches.’

One hour of rest ! Not much surely for a man who had just arrived from such a journey as mine. But never mind, I could have a swim in the Adour, and snatch a hasty meal. That would be enough to freshen me up, and there would just be time whilst the light carriage was being got ready in which I was to be shut up for eight days and nights on my way from Bayonne to the remote districts of Jutland, then occupied by the troops under Bernadotte.

I passed through Paris, Brussels, and Hanover, stopped at Hamburg to see the French Minister, M. de Bourrienne, who had heard nothing as yet of the events which had taken place at Bayonne, and who made me promise to call on him again on my way back. I pressed on by way of Holstein, and beyond Schleswig, where I found Marshal Bernadotte.

That officer did me the honour to receive me as an old friend, and after celebrating my arrival and the news I brought him by a fête, he allowed me to pursue my way to the Marquis de la Romaña, whom I found at Viborg in the midst of the encampment of the 10,000 Spaniards under his command. The very cold reception he gave to the tidings I brought from Bayonne left me in no doubt as to his feelings with regard to them; but for all that, after asking me a great many questions on the subject of what I had recently seen in Spain, and about which he really seemed as well informed as I was, he called his officers together to tell me before them and in their name that, however great might be their regret at losing the princes whom they had been taught to love from their childhood, they would be no less faithful to the new king, and then begged me to convey to him the assurance of their respectful homage.

In the conversations which succeeded this interview, many officers expressed their satisfaction at the prospect of serving a king who would probably be as much beloved at Madrid as at Naples, where he was adored; others, on the contrary, were evidently depressed and hid their real feelings under an assumed demeanour. I felt it would be prudent to avoid discussion as much as possible, and I left them with an assurance that the Emperor would appreciate their noble services, and that he would be happy to treat them with as much affection as if they had originally been his subjects.

Bernadotte gave two charming fêtes in my honour on the Schleswig lakes, reassured me as to the loyalty of the Spaniards, in which he firmly believed, told me to congratulate his brother from him and to ask the Emperor to recall him from the North, where he felt the cold very much, and to summon him to the South, where he would be delighted to serve him. He loaded my carriage with valuable presents, and at last allowed me to take my leave.

At Hamburg, M. de Bourrienne also fêted me. I had sent my carriage on to Altona so as to rejoin the Minister without loss of time. After the fête I was escorted by the guests to the shore, near to which the boat belonging to the French Consulate, with sails set, flags flying, and rowers in their places, was waiting to take me out of the Elbe.

M. de Bourrienne, taking me aside just before I started, confided to me his discontent with the position in which he found himself, letting me see how very keenly he felt the Emperor’s constant refusal to meet his wishes. I saw how very much he had the matter at heart, and promised to plead his cause with the Emperor. I made my adieux to the company present, and as my boat moved away I waved my handkerchief in response to the friendly gestures of those I was leaving.

Back again in my carriage, which I found at Altona, I had plenty of food for reflection in all I had seen and heard. I thought of the dreary country I was leaving, of which commerce alone relieves the monotony, though the chief roads naturally open to it are closed by the vigilance of the customs officers. I thought of the Elbe, once crowded with a forest of masts, which is now deserted and where not a single vessel is ever seen to arrive; I pondered on the ingenuity with which contraband goods were introduced, and the rigour of the blockade evaded, and remembered with amusement a scene I had witnessed the day before at Hamburg, where I had scarcely been able to get to the gate through the dense crowd assembled there, attracted by a spectacle which was curious enough. For some little time the octroi officers had been quite distressed by the mortality which apparently prevailed in the town, for every day numbers of victims were carried out to be buried in the cemetery beyond the walls. Funerals succeeded each other with the most alarming rapidity, till one day an officer of the octroi happened to put to his lips a probe he had plunged into one of the many cartloads of sand daily brought into the town to be used in building. The probe tasted sweet, and it was discovered that the contents of the cart were really brown sugar with a sprinkling of sand at the top. This roused the man’s suspicions; he was put thoroughly on his guard, and searched the contents of the next hearses which passed back from the cemetery. They were all full of sugar and calico! The crowd laughed and applauded when the discovery was made, but all the same they were very sorry that their trade had received such a check, for the ingenious device had brought them not a little prosperity without really costing the life of a single citizen of Hamburg.

I again passed through Paris and pushed on for Bayonne. I went straight to the Emperor on my arrival to give him an account of my mission, and he questioned me about the mood the Spaniards were in when I left. He then said, ‘And what is Bourrienne doing?’ I described the farewell ceremony before I left Hamburg, and fulfilled my promise to the French Minister by putting his case before the Emperor. He listened with interest and replied, ‘I like Bourrienne very much, but you must tell him how much I regret having to refuse his request,’ and in this refusal the Emperor persisted.

During my absence things had taken a very unlucky turn in Spain. The triumphal arches put up in honour of the Liberator had been torn down by the enraged people, and the Emperor, defeated in his object, had to prepare for the reconquest of the Peninsula by force of arms. He found Spain in fact neither so docile nor so rich as it had appeared when her people had turned to him with confidence, admiration, and affection.

On every side the Spanish were turning against the French army. The clergy of the chief churches of Seville, Valencia, Valladolid, and Saragossa were trying to arouse the patriotic zeal of the people, and the blood of our countrymen was being shed in every provincial town.

The catastrophe of Baylen ¹ had taken place, and the news of it reached Madrid the very day King Joseph made his entry. The same tidings came to the camp outside Valencia just as Marshal Moncey was expecting the arrival of his heavy guns to commence the siege, and it revived the courage of the defenders of Saragossa.

¹ This refers to the capitulation of General Dupont with 10,000 men in the pass of Baylen in the Sierra Morena. – Trans.

Under this melancholy conjunction of circumstances the King found it prudent to leave Madrid on August 1 and withdraw to Burgos, whilst Marshal Moncey, abandoning the idea of taking Valencia, withdrew to Catalonia with his army, taking with him fifty pieces of cannon he had captured. Meanwhile Lefebvre-Desnouettes, not having troops enough to occupy Saragossa, raised the siege.

These various successes inflamed the ardour of the Spanish nation, and on every side regular armies were formed and bands of guerrillas were raised, rendering our communications very difficult. England took the most extraordinary interest in promoting the war, making the greatest sacrifices in the Spanish cause, sending over generals, men, arms, and money. The English advances made to the Marquis de la Romaña in Denmark had been not without success, and that general, whilst pretending to Bernadotte that he was still faithful to us, embarked as many of his officers and men as he could win over on a number of English vessels and shortly afterwards landed them at Coruña.

It was at this juncture that the meeting at Erfurt ¹ took place. The Emperor of Russia was really passionately attached to Napoleon. He sincerely admired the French Emperor’s genius and all the grand successes he had recently achieved. One evening Alexander was chatting enthusiastically about his friend to Count Daru, whom he, however, asked to explain why Napoleon had created an order of nobility in France when he had been so fortunate as not to find one about the throne when he had ascended it. The Russian Emperor was no doubt thinking how the Russian nobility, held as they are in slavish servility, often revenge themselves, as is the way of slaves, by murdering their master. He knew how many of the Czars had been assassinated, and the fate of his own father Paul I. was no doubt present in his mind. With no presentiment of the doom he was to meet himself ten years later, the Emperor in this conversation talked of the institution of an order of nobility rather as a menace to than a support of the throne, and of all the deeds of Napoleon this creation of a nobility was the only one of which he did not recognise the utility.

¹ Between Napoleon, the Emperor of Russia, and several German princes. – Trans.

The troops in Germany, set free by the restoration of peace in the North, crossed France and the Pyrenees on their way to Spain, receiving everywhere a regular ovation, fêtes and banquets being held, and songs composed in their honour, till they became perfectly intoxicated with enthusiasm. Our seasoned disciplined warriors, led by skilful chiefs, were now to begin a fresh struggle, this time with a brave nation imbued with love of independence.

The French troops poured in in great numbers, crossed the Bidassoa in good order, and pushed on for Galicia, Castille, and Aragon in advance of the Emperor, who arrived at the same time at Bayonne and lost not a moment in following the army to Spain.

My entry into Irun in the suite of the Emperor was a very different thing from my arrival there the first time, when I believed I was heralding his approach. Then the Alcalde and corregidors had come to meet me, and conducted me to the best quarters in the town, where they had given me an excellent meal and placed a very comfortable bed at my disposal, after pointing out the hotel and triumphal arch prepared for the Emperor. This time I found myself at eleven o'clock on a pitch-dark night, entering a town encumbered with troops, where I could get neither food nor shelter for myself, forage nor stabling for my horses, and where daybreak revealed to me the fact that the couch, which after all had not been a hard one, on which I had snatched a little repose during the night, was nothing more or less than a heap of dried dung, such as is painfully collected by the Spanish peasants with which to manure a few square feet of soil.

In his advance upon Madrid, the Emperor’s first care was to attack the troops which harassed his march on either flank, so as to leave no enemy in the rear.

When we re-entered Burgos on November 20, our friends were all gone, called to the war or dispersed by terror, and the town, which had been pillaged after the battle, was still in the most terrible disorder. The Emperor only stopped two days, and the Imperial head quarters were transferred to Lerma on the 22nd, and on the 23rd to Aranda. Whatever may have been the consideration shown by our advanced guard for the inoffensive inhabitants of the towns we passed through, they all fled before us, fearing reprisals for the assassinations of which some of them had been guilty, and abandoning to us their houses, convents, and churches, which had, however, already been broken into and pillaged. These buildings, deserted as they were, offered irresistible temptation to the cupidity of our soldiers, and, in spite of the severe punishments inflicted by their officers, every inch of them was ransacked from the chapels to the crypts, the very tombs being rifled, and all that could be removed carried off.

When we halted at Aranda, the Emperor wished to leave the enemy in doubt as to which route he would take for Madrid, and with this end in view he divided his forces, one half going by way of the Guadarrama and the other by the pass of the Somo-Sierra. The latter was the shorter way, but much easier to defend on account of the narrowness of the mountain defile. It would therefore most likely be guarded by a smaller number of troops than the other route, and on this account the Emperor decided on it.

On the 29th the Emperor and his suite had established their head quarters at the base of the Somo-Sierra, where they were joined by Marshal Victor, who at once led his troops into the pass through a fog so dense that they could not see two paces before them. In spite of this the Marshal made his men climb into the forests on either side of the main road, the enemy having occupied the summits, where they considered themselves impregnable behind the deep excavations they had made. General Bertrand, one of the aides-de-camp of the Emperor, had instructions to repair the road and render it practicable for our cavalry and artillery. Napoleon, however, impatient at the delay caused by the necessary work, told me to push a reconnaissance into the mountain till I came upon the enemy, when I was to return and report as to their numbers and position. I soon came up with General Bertrand, who had not yet completed his task, and then pressed on by a rapid ascent. I had traversed about a couple of miles without seeing any one, when a Pole who was one of my party made me a sign that he could hear the Spaniards talking.

I dismounted at once, gave him my horse to hold, and crept noiselessly forward till I was arrested by the sound of falling earth, behind which a number of people were talking Spanish. I then turned aside and walked along the edge of the road to try and find out the extent of the entrenchment, which seemed to me to contain some twelve or fifteen guns. After having reconnoitred the position so far as was possible in the dense fog, I was returning down the mountain to my horse, when, after taking some five or six steps, I suddenly found myself face to face with a battalion silently advancing upon me. Although quite close to the men, the fog was so thick that I at first took them for a French corps, and I said to the officer marching at their head, ‘You had better not advance in this direction. There is a ravine you cannot cross.’ At the words the whole column took aim at me, and I shouted as I came nearer, ‘Do not fire! Do not fire! I am French!’ At that very instant I discovered my error, for it was a Spanish corps climbing up from the base of the mountain. My position was indeed critical, and I hastened to call out in Spanish, ‘Do not fire! do not fire! I have three regiments here which will cut you to pieces; the best thing you can do is to surrender to me who can do you no harm.’

The Spaniards seemed uncertain what to do, and hesitated, whether because they were afraid of firing on their own people, or believed in the three regiments I had referred to I don't know, but they quickly dispersed on the left and disappeared in the fog, their leader with them, who was in such haste to be gone that he left his horse and cloak behind him, so as to escape more easily across the rocks. Their panic saved my life, and as soon as they were out of sight I ran back to my men. I hastened to return to the Emperor, and told him all I had done. I found him very much put out at the delays he had met with, and he said to me, ‘You are making fun of me.’ He saw that I was greatly annoyed at the reception he gave me, and recognising the danger I had run in his service, he made me repeat what I had said about the artillery of the enemy and the state of the road. He then ordered General Montbrun to advance with his cavalry, in spite of all obstacles, protected by the infantry, which had now had time to crown the heights.

Montbrun at the head of a body of Polish cavalry galloped up the mountain, fell upon the Spanish entrenchments, and sabred some of the artillerymen at their posts; but the roughness of the ground, combined with the volley of grape shot which met him, overthrew the head of his column, and compelled him to retreat and rally his men beyond the range of the guns. In the thick of the hail of shot the Poles recognised the Emperor himself, and almost without waiting for the word of command from their chief the gallant Kosciusko, they returned to the charge, overcame all the obstacles which had deterred them at first, carrying everything before them, and penetrating into the very heart of the formidable position of the Spaniards, who were unable in the fog to see how very small the attacking column was. The Cavalry of the Guard followed the movement; every one of the Spanish gunners in charge of the sixteen cannon defending the pass was cut down.

During this struggle the infantry under Marshal Victor had succeeded in scaling the heights and dominating the position of the enemy, and our Poles, protected as they were by their fire, completely routed the thirteen or fourteen thousand men defending the approaches to the defile of Somo-Sierra. The fog, the rocks, and the woods combined to protect the Spaniards in their flight, and we made few prisoners, but we took all their cannon, and they left nearly 2,000 men upon the ground. As we climbed the mountain I pointed out to the Emperor the horse and cloak abandoned by the Spanish officer I had met; the bridle was still entangled in the folds of the cloak, and the horse, thinking, perhaps, that his master was sleeping, had remained patiently standing where he was, like many a faithful dog which we had seen awaiting death on the battle field beside the corpse of his owner.

The Emperor was able to verify some of the other details I had mentioned to him, and they were of a nature to excite his just indignation. During the preceding days the Spanish had made a few prisoners, and they had been barbarously executed by strangling. Not daring to leave behind them such damning proofs of their barbarity, they had made a hurried attempt to conceal the bodies, which had been hastily hidden, tied two and two together, beneath an arch of the bridge spanning the road where I had seen them when I was climbing up on foot. Some few of the poor wretches, of whom there were about fifteen, were still breathing, and help was given to them. Just at this moment some prisoners, including several monks and superior officers, were brought to the Emperor, and he reproached them with their cruelty, threatening to serve them in the same fashion, but he was really too generous for that, and no harm was done to them.

The fog gradually cleared away, and we were able to contemplate with delight a battle field bristling with entrenchments and redoubts, strewn with abandoned cannon, dead and wounded. The site was an admirable one, and later this scene furnished me with a fine subject for a picture, in which I introduced all the details which had particularly struck me in the morning, when, thanks to Providence, I had such a marvellous escape.

On December 2 we were before Madrid, which was in a state of the wildest excitement. The pavement had been torn up in all the streets to serve as barricades. The houses were loopholed, thousands of bales of wool served as epaulments at the gates and in all the public squares, and 100 cannon defended the various entrenchments. But divided counsels prevailed in the town, some wanting to open the gates to us to save bloodshed, whilst others were for defence. The latter strangled the Marquis of Parles because he was supposed to be favourable to us, and they were minded to murder M. de Soulages, the aide-de-camp of Marshal Bessières, who was entrusted by their leader with proposals of peace. The tocsin was rung from every church, the drums everywhere beat to arms, and 50,000 armed peasants who had flocked in from the country joined the garrison, shouting as they perambulated the streets, ‘Down with the French!’

When on December 2 the Emperor went the round of the lines of our outposts, the soldiers remembered that it was the anniversary of his coronation and of Austerlitz, and greeted him with such shouts of ‘Vive l'Empereur!’ that they were heard at the gates of Madrid. They longed to enter the city, and very soon Marshal Bessières enabled them to do so.

His preliminary dispositions made, the Marshal summoned the Marquis of Castelar, President of the Junta, to surrender in the cause of humanity, and thus to avert the horrors which would result from an assault of the town. The Marquis replied by sending a general to parley with us, and we saw him arrive under the surveillance of some twenty ferocious-looking guards, who behaved in a very arrogant fashion. The Envoy was told that the Emperor wished to spare a city so beautiful as Madrid, containing so many sensible men and peaceful families, who were worthy of all consideration, and that it would grieve him to the heart if he had to reduce the town by force of arms.

Marshal Victor had already placed his divisions in the positions they were to occupy in the attack, the firing had everywhere begun, the danger was indeed imminent. The General was sent back to the town, and the Emperor, profiting by the brilliant light of the moon, made a vigorous attack on the suburbs, eager to get the siege over as quickly as possible.

The suburbs, which were badly defended, were quickly taken, and the rest of the night, which was almost as light as day, was occupied in placing our artillery. After this first success Marshal Berthier sent into the town a Spanish officer of artillery, who had been taken prisoner in the Somo-Sierra pass, with instructions to tell his fellow-countrymen and the Governor how well able we were to reduce the city. Whilst that officer was engaged in his mission a battery of thirty pieces of cannon kept up a hot fire on the town, demolishing a barrack with part of the enceinte and making a breach in the palace of Buen Retiro. Another battery of twenty howitzers meanwhile made a feigned attack on the other side of the town, doing some damage. The Spanish officer now returned from his mission, bringing with him a letter from the Governor, who said that as he was dependent upon the Junta he begged for time to make known the gravity of the situation to the people, and entreated the Emperor to grant an armistice of a few hours.

Berthier sent back word that the Emperor granted this request, and had ordered the firing to cease everywhere.

One party of outposts after another now brought in the prisoners they had taken, and from these unfortunate fellows we heard of the scenes of disorder which were taking place in the town, and of the cruel way in which the armed peasants, who wished to defend the town to the last, treated those inhabitants who wanted to surrender it for the sake of saving their property.

The day was passed in reconnoitring various points of the town and in active preparations for its assault; but as night was beginning to fall, a number of envoys from the town arrived at our bivouac, and we took them to the tent of Marshal Berthier. They dwelt upon all the difficulties of their position in a town where during the last four months many generals had been hanged or otherwise put to death, and they pleaded to have the next day (the 4th) to bring the people to reason. The Marshal took them to the Emperor, who made their feel the whole weight of his indignation, telling them that he knew well enough how those at the head of affairs, instead of making the people listen to counsels of conciliation, misled them and excited them to resistance: ‘They allowed French prisoners and merchants to be massacred when honour demanded their protection; it was they who gave up the women of Roussillon to the Spanish soldiers; it was they who ordered the treacherous bombardment of my ships at Cadiz when we were on friendly terms; only a few days ago they ordered the strangling of Frenchmen in Madrid. They have violated the treaty of the capitulation of Baylen in an atrocious manner, and now they ask me to grant an amnesty to Madrid. Is it likely ? . . . However, you can go back to the town and say that I promise all peaceable citizens oblivion of the past and protection of their religion. I give you till sunrise to-morrow; but don’t come talking to me about the people again unless it is to announce their submission, or it will be all up with you. Now be off!’

The presence of the Emperor himself before their walls, and the threats he was known to have uttered, greatly intimidated the people of the town, who were moreover disheartened by the great losses they had sustained the night before. The more mutinous amongst them, too, when they saw some of the troops of the line disband, withdrew during the night, not daring to face the worse perils which were approaching.

The notables of the town, thus relieved of the presence of this dangerous element in their midst, threw themselves on the generosity of the Emperor, and the Governor of Madrid, Don Fernando Vera, with General Morla arrived in our camp at six o'clock on the morning of the 4th to announce the submission of the town.

A general amnesty was at once proclaimed, communications were reopened, and General Belliard was made Governor of Madrid, where he quickly established such perfect order that the shops were reopened the very day of his nomination, whilst the people hastened to remove all trace of the miseries of the siege by taking down the barricades and repairing the streets.

The Emperor, accompanied by Major-General Prince Berthier, who had been with him in the Castle of San Martino, did not enter the town till the 8th, but his arrival had been heralded by the issuing of various proclamations and decrees.

With a view to appealing; to the eyes of the populace as he had previously appealed to their reason, and hoping to dispose them to accept with pride an alliance with so rich and powerful a nation as the French, the Emperor ordered that his Guard and all the troops should appear in their most gorgeous uniforms at the review he intended to hold on the Prado. We all got ourselves up in gala array, so as to be worthy of the grand occasion. Fashion, which controls the costumes of soldiers as rigorously as those of ladies, has changed so much since then that the day will doubtless come when many will be interested in knowing what uniforms were worn by orderly officers on occasions such as this, so I will describe the garments of the little group to which I belonged.

The aides-de-camp of Major-General Prince Berthier had been chosen from amongst the sons of the highest families of France; and, either by accident or by choice, we were all tall young fellows with good figures. The Prince had ordered me some years before to design a special uniform, and I had suggested something in the Hungarian style – a black cloth pelisse, a white dolman with gold braid and fur, wide breeches, and a shako of scarlet cloth surmounted by an aigrette of white heron’s plumes. The different details of the costume were enriched with plenty of gold braid, cord, and buttons; and a rich sash of black and gold silk, a small cartridge pouch, a sabretache, and a Damascene sabre completed the get-up. Our parade horses were of Arab breed, greyish white in colour, with long floating silky manes; their bridles, like those of the hussars, gleaming with gold braid and tassels; whilst the saddle was covered with a panther’s skin festooned with gold and scarlet. My young friend Alfred de Noailles looked grand in this costume, which set off his fine figure and handsome features. His manner, too, was very distinguished and chivalrous, and his heart was as good as his form was beautiful. I can scarcely refrain from tears when I think how he and many other fine young heroes were soon afterwards to be mown down at my side by an enemy’s fire. Even at the head of the Imperial Guard we presented a remarkable appearance; and, though I should be charged with conceit for thus recalling the incidents of a time so remote, I cannot help declaring that I really never saw anything finer or more brilliant of its kind than our cavalcade of six aides-de-camp as we entered Madrid. The Emperor and Marshal Berthier looked at us in quite a paternal manner, and congratulated us on our smart appearance.

The sun had been shining continuously for the last eight days, and everywhere under its genial influence flowers were bursting into bloom. The review was favoured with bright weather and a clear sky, and went off admirably; but there were few spectators, and very little enthusiasm amongst those few. Yet most of the Spanish hoped much from the restoration, under the Emperor and his brother, of constitutional government; but their fears of a reaction led them to maintain a prudent reserve. The ladies, however, with a little more political prescience, were not quite so reserved in their demonstrations, and we noticed a good many pretty little feet carefully shod but not perhaps very carefully hidden. Many small hands, too, fluttered fans with thoroughly Castilian grace and vivacity, and waved a friendly greeting to those of us who were known to their owners; and the coquettish black lace mantillas were parted to give us a glimpse of beautiful dark oval eyes with long lashes, gazing out at us with a sweet and gentle expression. This review and fête illustrated forcibly alike the pomp, the grandeur, and the stern vicissitudes of war, as well as the power of the fair dames of Castille to lead their conquerors captive by their grace, their charm, and by their lively and witty conversation. True, the dark scowling looks of the stern hidalgos in the crowd, with their cloaks drawn up and their wide sombreros pulled down so that only the black eyes gleaming with rage and jealousy could be seen, cast a decided gloom on an otherwise bright picture, but this only made the general effect all the more piquant for us.

After the review we went to visit the King’s Palace, and saw the grand pictures by Raphael, Murillo, and Velasquez; the remarkable emerald; the huge nugget brought over by Vasco da Gama; and the gigantic skeleton of a mammoth in the Natural History collection. We then returned to San Martino, leaving Madrid with regret, for we could have enjoyed resting there after all the fatigues of war.