On the eve of the declaration of the Senate in favor of the empire, Cambacérès had said to Lebrun, "All is over! the monarchy is re- established! But I have a presentiment that what they are now constructing will not be durable. We made war upon Europe to give it republics, which should be daughters of the French Republic; now we shall make it to give Europe monarchs, sons or brothers of ours; and France, exhausted, will finally succumb to such fatal attempts." A year before that, when the consulship for life was proclaimed, the wise and virtuous Tronchet, when a sorrowful witness of the revolutionary crimes against which he had defended King Louis XVI., had shown the same inquietude and fatal presentiment. "This young man begins like Caesar," he said of General Bonaparte; "I am afraid he may end as he did." The daggers of the Roman conspirators had arrested Caesar in his course. Napoleon had found neither a Brutus nor a Cassius: he reigned without contest, by a triumphal acclamation of 3,572,329 suffrages against 2569 "Noes." The country was eager to salute its new master, with a curiosity mixed with confidence in the unexpected resources of his genius. The courtiers alone around him who had found no place in the prodigal distribution of honors, muttered their murmurs. They served him nevertheless; and Talleyrand remained minister of foreign affairs, even when all the important posts of the empire had escaped his desires. With more calmness and pride than the courtiers, Moreau and the royalist conspirators waited in prison for their verdict. Napoleon was as eager as they were, being in haste to rid himself of an embarrassment which could become a danger. In proportion as the trial proceeded, Moreau's case was more and more kept distinct from that of the other prisoners. The mode of defence adopted by the royalists tended entirely to prove his innocence. "We entered France," they said, "deceived by false reports, and with the hope of securing our restoration: General Moreau refused us his assistance, and our project failed." The general did not appear disturbed by the irregular jurisdiction to which his case was to be referred. "Strive," he wrote to his wife, "to make sure that those who are to judge me are just men, incapable of betraying their conscience. If I am judged by persons of honor, I cannot complain, although they have apparently suppressed the jury." The public interest was lively, and openly shown, in spite of the evident annoyance of the emperor. The friends of the royalist prisoners were numerous and ardent; and, whether from admiration or indifference, the public believed General Moreau innocent of all conspiracy, and made excuse for the dissatisfaction or ambition which he might have manifested. The sharers of his renown--Dessoles, Gouvion St. Cyr, Macdonald, Lecourbe-- were faithfully present at every sitting. I borrow from the interesting recollections of Madame Récamier the picture of the spectacle then seen in the hall of the Palace of Justice, every approach to which was choked by the crowd. "The prisoners, of whom there were forty-seven, were for the most part unknown to each other, and filled the raised seats facing those where the judges sat. Each prisoner was seated between two gendarmes; those near Moreau were full of respect. When I raised my veil the general recognized me, and rose to salute me. I returned his salute with emotion and respect. I was deeply touched at seeing them treat as a criminal that great general whose reputation was then so glorious and unstained. It was no longer a question of republic and republicans. Excepting Moreau, who I am certain was an entire stranger to the conspiracy, it was the royalist loyalty that alone was on its defence against the new power. This cause of the ancient monarchy had as its head a man of the people, Georges Cadoudal. "That fearless Georges! We looked at him with the thought that that head, so freely and energetically devoted, must fall on the scaffold; or that he alone, probably, would not escape death, as he did nothing for that purpose. Disdaining to defend himself, he only defended his friends; and when they tried to persuade him to ask for pardon, as the other prisoners had done, he replied, 'Do you promise me a fairer opportunity of dying?' "In the ranks of the accused, Polignac and Rivière were still noticeable, interesting from their youth and devotion. Pichegru, whose name will remain historically united with Moreau's, was missing at his side--or rather, one believed his shade was visible there, because it was known that he also was not in the prison. "Another recollection, the death of the Duc d'Enghien, increased the sorrow and terror of many minds, even among the most devoted partisans of Bonaparte." Taken as a whole, and in spite of the embarrassment caused by the persistence of two or three of the accusers, the public judicial examination was favorable to General Moreau. On being accused of having agreed to a reconciliation with the traitor Pichegru, he replied, "Since the beginning of the Revolution there have been many traitors. There were some who were traitors in 1789, without being so in 1793; there were others who were so in '93 but were not in '95, others who were so in '95 but have not been so since. Many were republicans who are not so now. General Pichegru may have had an understanding with Condé in the year IV.; I believe that he had; but he was included in the proscription of Fructidor, and must be considered as one of those who were then proscribed. When I saw other Fructidorians at the head of the authorities of state--when Condé's army filled the Parisian drawing-rooms and those of the First Consul, I might very well take a share in restoring to France the conqueror of Holland. I am credited with the absurd idea of making use of royalists in the hope of regaining power if they were successful. I have made war for ten years, and during those ten years I am not aware of having done absurd things." When they laid emphasis on his interview with Pichegru and Georges, he said, "A quarter of an hour is but little for the discussion of a plan of government. It is said that Pichegru was dissatisfied; probably we were not of the same mind." On the president regretting that he had not denounced Pichegru and the royalists, saying that he owed it to a government that loaded him with benefits, Moreau exclaimed, "The conqueror of Hohenlinden is not a denouncer, M. le President. Do not put my services and my fortune in the same balance, for there is no possible comparison between the things. I should have fifty millions to-day, had I made the same use of victory which many others have done!" Moreau wished to plead himself the cause of his life and renown. "It is only by my counsel," he said, "that I wish to address justice"--here the illustrious general looked round upon the attentive multitude--"but I feel that both on your account and mine I ought to speak myself. Unfortunate circumstances, produced by chance or caused by hatred, may for an instant obscure the life of the most honorable man; and a clever criminal may keep off suspicion and the proof of his crimes. The whole life of a prisoner is always the most certain testimony against him and for him. I therefore set my whole life to witness against my accusers and prosecutors; it has been public enough to be known: I shall only recall a few of its epochs: and the witnesses whom I shall summon will be the French people, and the people whom France has conquered. I was devoted to the study of law at the beginning of that revolution which was to establish the liberty of the French people; and the object of my life being thus changed, I devoted it to arms. I became a warrior because I was a citizen: I bore this character beneath our standards, and have always preserved it. I was promoted quickly, but always from step to step without passing any; always by serving my country, never by flattering the committees. On being appointed commander, when victory obliged us to march through the countries of our enemies, I was as anxious that our character should be respected as that our arms should be dreaded. War, under my orders, was a calamity only on the battlefield. I have the presumption to think that the country has not forgotten my services then, nor the ready devotion which I showed when fighting as a subordinate; nor how I was appointed to the command-in-chief by the reverses of our arms, and, in one sense, named general by our misfortunes. It is still remembered how I twice recomposed the army from the fragments of those which had been scattered, and how, after having twice restored it to a condition of being able to cope with the Russians and Austrians, I twice laid down the command to take another of greater responsibility. I was not during that period of my life more republican than during the others, though I seemed so. It is well known that there was a proposal to put me at the head of a movement similar to that of the 18th Brumaire. I refused, believing that I was made to command armies, and having no desire to command a Republic. I did more; on the 18th Brumaire I was in Paris. That revolution, instigated by others, could not disturb my peace of mind; but directed by a man surrounded by great renown, I might have hoped for happy results from it. I took part in it to assist it, whilst some other parties urged me to lead them in opposing it. I received in Paris General Bonaparte's orders, and, in seeing them executed, I assisted in raising him to that high degree of power which circumstances rendered necessary. When, shortly afterwards, he offered me the command of the army of the Rhine, I accepted it from him with as much devotion as from the hands of the Republic itself. Never had my successes been more rapid, more numerous, or more decisive, than during that period; and their renown was reflected upon the government which accuses me. What a moment for conspiring, if such a scheme had ever entered my mind! Would an ambitious man, or a conspirator, have let slip the opportunity when at the head of an army of 100,000 men so often victorious? I only thought of disbanding the army before returning to the repose of civil life. "During that rest, which has not been without glory, I enjoyed my honors (such honors as no human power can deprive me of), the recollections of what I had done, the testimony of my conscience, the esteem of my country and of foreigners, and, to be candid, the flattering and pleasant presentiment of the esteem of posterity. My mind and disposition were so well known, and I kept myself so far aloof from any ambitious project, that from the victory of Hohenlinden till my arrest my enemies were never able to accuse me of any crime except freedom in speaking. Do conspirators openly find fault with that which they do not approve? So much candor is scarcely reconcilable with political secrets and plots. If I had wished to adopt and follow the plans of any conspirators, I should have concealed my sentiments, and solicited every appointment which might have restored me to power. As a guide on such a route, in default of the political talent which I have never had, there were examples known to all the world and rendered imposing by success. I might have known that Monk retained command of his armies when he wished to conspire, and that Cassius and Brutus came nearer Caesar's heart in order to pierce it." When the pleading was finished, the emperor and the public anxiously waited for the sentence. The fact of the royalist plot being proved, the condemnation of the prisoners was certain, and the inquietude and hopes of all were concentrated on Moreau. "Towards the close of the trial," said Madame Récamier, "all business was stopped, the entire population were out of doors, they talked of nothing but Moreau." The emperor had informed the judges that he would not demand that the general be condemned to death unless in the interest of justice, and as a salutary example, his fixed intention being to grant him pardon. One of the members of the tribunal, Clavier, a man of great virtue and learning, said, on hearing General Murat's proposition, "And who will pardon us ourselves, if we pass judgment and condemnation against our consciences?" At the first deliberation of the tribunal, seven judges out of twelve voted for acquittal pure and simple: being afraid of Napoleon's anger, they sentenced Moreau to two years' imprisonment. "Why, that's a punishment for a pickpocket!" exclaimed the emperor in a passion. By wise counsel he was induced to show a prudent clemency. Moreau, nearly ruined by the expense of the trial, and as annoyed by the sentence as Napoleon was, refused to ask any favor. "If it was certain that I took part in the conspiracy," he exclaimed, "I ought to have been condemned to death as a leader. I undergo the extremity of horror and disgrace. Nobody will believe that I played the part of a corporal." His young and handsome wife, being near confinement, asked for and obtained permission to sail to America with her husband, and when delayed at Cadiz by child-birth, was urged to set out on the voyage through Fouché's influence in the Spanish court. "Four years ago about this time," wrote the general, "I gained the battle of Hohenlinden. That event, so glorious for my country, procured for my fellow-countrymen a repose which they had long wanted. I alone have been unable to obtain it. Will they refuse it me at the extremity of Europe, 500 leagues from my native land?" Moreau carried with him into exile the cruel recollection of the name "brigand" (ruffian), which had been formerly abusively replied to him, and that keen desire for vengeance which was one day to prove so fatal to his renown. Of the royalist prisoners, twenty were condemned to death. In spite of Murat's eager pleading, eleven perished on the scaffold with Georges Cadoudal, equal to him in the imperturbability of their political and religious faith. Rivière and Polignac, General Lajolais, and four others owed their lives to the supplications of their families, judiciously assisted by the kindness of the Empress Josephine. They were all sent to prison. Napoleon felt with more justice than Moreau himself that the conscience of the judges had been opposed to his supreme will. In spite of the silence which he imposed upon the organs of the press, more and more roughly treated by him, public opinion remained equally stirred up against the murder of the Duc d'Enghien. A thought which had arisen in his mind from the day of his elevation to the empire, gained fresh forces from the feeling of silent disapprobation of all honorable men. He wished to place a religious stamp upon his greatness, and instructed Cardinal Caprara to ask the Pope to come to Paris to consecrate him. "It is most unlikely," said he, "that any power will make objection to it either in right or in fact. Therefore broach the subject, and when you have transmitted the reply, I shall make the suitable and necessary arrangements with the Pope." As in the case of the Concordat, the emperor's confidential advisers were not favorable to the idea of consecration. The discussion in the Council of State was lively, characterized by all the philosophical and revolutionary suspicion as to the pretensions of a power being invited to bestow the crown and thus probably believing it had the power to withdraw it. Napoleon had formed a better judgment of the profound and permanent effect of the condescension which he asked from the Pope. "Gentlemen," said he to his council, "you are deliberating in Paris in the Tuileries; suppose that you were deliberating in London in the British cabinet, that in a word, you were ministers of the King of England, and that you were told that at this moment the Pope was crossing the Alps to consecrate the Emperor of the French, would you consider that as a triumph for England or for France?" The council had not insisted, and the court of Rome felt their force of resistance becoming weaker every day. The death of the Duc d'Enghien had caused the Pope much sorrow:--"My tears now," said Pius VII., "at the death of the one and the attempt upon the other." The French bishops who had not resigned had renewed their protestations against the Concordat. The Sacred College, when consulted as to the journey of the holy father, were divided in their opinion. Five cardinals declared that by so doing the Pope would ratify all the usurpations of which the new Emperor of the French had rendered himself culpable; fifteen showed less severity, but all insisted upon surrounding the solicited favor with numerous conditions. "The actual advantage to religion expressly professed in the invitation which his Holiness is about to accept, but actually injured in the result, can alone excuse in the eyes of Catholics the temporary abandonment of the holy seat," wrote Cardinal Consalvi to Cardinal Caprara: "the dignity and honor of the head of religion both require it." He also wrote, "The form of oath taken by the emperor raises great difficulties. We cannot admit the oath _to respect and caused to be respected the laws of the Concordat_, which is the same thing as saying that one must respect the organic articles and cause them to be respected. _To respect the liberty of worship_ supposes an engagement not to tolerate and allow, but to sustain and protect, and extends not only to persons, but to the thing, that is to say to all forms of worship. But a Catholic cannot defend the error of false forms of worship." Cardinal Caprara, as papal legate in Paris, and Cardinal Fesch, as French ambassador in Rome, explained away or avoided the difficulties. The legate, always timid and easily persuaded, gave grounds for hopes which he was not always able to realize; the cardinal, haughty and violent, divided between devotion to his all-powerful nephew and his own restoration to ecclesiastical practices and sentiments, was at Rome lavish of presents and threats. He at the same time advised the court of Rome to claim the Legations, whatever were the scruples of the Pope to confound temporal questions with spiritual concessions. Skilful in making use of the real Intentions or wishes which he was aware of, without compromising his government by any formal engagement, Cardinal Fesch at last triumphed over the repugnances of the Pope by avoiding most of the conditions of the Holy College, and on the 30th September, 1804, he presented to Pius VII. General Caffarelli, the emperor's deputy at Rome, instead of the two bishops formerly insisted upon. Still less explicit than his ambassador, Napoleon gave no hopes to the holy father of the important concessions with which the latter was fondly flattering himself. "Very Holy Father," said the emperor, "the happy result evinced in the morality and character of my people by the re-establishment of the Christian religion, leads me to pray your Holiness to give me a new proof of the interest which your Holiness takes in my destiny and that of this great nation, in one of the most important periods shown in the annals of the world. I beg your Holiness to come and give a religious character of the highest degree to the ceremony of the consecration and coronation of the first Emperor of the French. That ceremony will acquire a new lustre if done by your Holiness. It will bring upon us and our peoples the blessing of God, whose decrees govern according to His will the lot of empires and of families. "Your Holiness knows the friendly feeling which I have long had towards you, and must therefore infer the pleasure which I shall have in giving you fresh proofs. "Thereupon we pray God, most holy father, that He may keep you for many years in the rule and government of our mother the holy Church. "Your devoted son, "Napoleon." The Pope had determined to set out, being convinced that resistance was impossible, and harassed by a serious inquietude the importance of which was afterwards confirmed, and by the vague fears of a sickly old man. He was offended by the contemptuous terms which the foreign ambassadors applied to the condescension of him whom they called the "French emperor's chaplain." His Italian subtilty was disturbed, and his natural kindness chafed by the dryness of the emperor's message. "This is poison which you have brought to me," said he to General Caffarelli, after reading Napoleon's letter. He set out nevertheless, obstinately refusing to take with him Cardinal Consalvi, in whose hands he had placed his abdication. "If they keep me here," said he one day in Paris, "they will find that they only have in their power a wretched monk called Barnabus Chiaramonti." The Pope's departure had been much hastened by the repeated urgency of the emperor, and his journey was so also. The time for the ceremony was fixed without consulting him. As Cardinal Consalvi said in his Memoirs, "they made the holy father gallop from Rome to Paris like an almoner summoned by his master to say mass." On the 25th November, 1804, about mid-day, the emperor was hunting in the forest of Fontainebleau, and went towards Croix St. Herem at the moment when the Pope's carriage just reached that spot. The carriage stopped, and "the holy father stepped out in his white dress; as the road was muddy he could not soil his silk stockings by stepping on the ground." He got out, however, whilst the emperor, leaping from his horse, advanced to him and embraced him. The meeting had been skilfully arranged in order that the new master of France might be spared the annoyance of a deference which he considered excessive. Both doors of the emperor's carriage were opened at once, and Napoleon entering by the right, Pius VII. naturally took the left. The empress and imperial family were waiting for the Pope at the great portico of the palace. The emperor seemed triumphant. The Pope was full of emotion, affected by the kind reception he had met with by the people during his journey. "I have passed through a population all on their knees," said he. The Emperor Napoleon was not on his knees, and Pius VII. was even sensible of it. Several questions had remained undecided before the holy father's departure for France: Napoleon had resolutely disposed of them, and yielded only on one point. Still bandied about between his own uncertainty, the love which he still felt for the Empress Josephine, the intrigues of her family, who were opposed to him, and the passionate longing to have a son to inherit his crown, he had been on the point of demanding a divorce a few days previously, but on the empress making the Pope her confidant their union was confirmed, and on the eve of the coronation, with the greatest secrecy, the religious marriage of the emperor with Josephine was celebrated by Cardinal Fesch. Pius VII. declared that it was impossible for him to proceed with the ceremony of the double consecration so long as that act of reparation remained unaccomplished. Those who had charge of the arrangements for the great spectacle, the Abbé Bernier, lately appointed Bishop of Orleans, and the Arch-chancellor Cambacérès, had frequently discussed the ceremonial of the coronation properly so-called. In France the peers, in Italy the bishops, formerly held the crown above the head of the sovereign, who then received it from the hands of the pontiff. "All the French emperors, all those of Germany who have been consecrated by the popes were at the same crowned by them. The holy father, in order to decide as to the journey, must receive from Paris the assurance that in this case there will be no innovation contrary to the honor and dignity of the sovereign pontiff." At Rome the replies bad been vague; at Paris the emperor had calmed the zeal and inquietude of his servants. "I shall arrange that myself," said he. On the 2nd December, 1804, the ceremony of consecration took place according to the solemn ceremonial, and the emperor, after being anointed with the holy oil, held out his hand towards the crown which the Pope had just taken from the altar. Pius VII., completely taken by surprise, made no resistance, and Napoleon himself placing on his head the emblem of sovereign power, then crowned with his own hands the empress, who was in tears kneeling before him. Mounting his throne whilst his brothers held up his robe, being compelled to that act of humility by his imperious will, and their sisters bore the train of the empress, the Pope pronounced the solemn formula, "Vivat in aeternum Augustus!" And under the very eyes of the holy pontiff, the Emperor Napoleon took the oath in the form which had been so much opposed in Rome. His victory was complete: he triumphed over the old revolutionary prejudices, whilst at the same time confirming in Notre Dame, in spite of the scruples of the court of Rome, the principles of liberty acquired by the French Revolution. When the Pope, sad and discouraged, at last set out for Rome, 4th April, 1805, he had obtained none of the favors which he thought he had a right to expect. The emperor was inflexible on the question of the "organic articles," making no concession as to their application. The statement presented by the Pope and drawn up by Cardinal Antonelli, the most enthusiastic of his councillors, was on Napoleon's orders replied to by Portalis, who was skilful in concealing the refusal under the grave phraseology of legal and Christian language. Urged to extremity, Pius VII. applied to the emperor himself to ask the restoration of the Legations. Talleyrand wrote in reply, "France has very dearly bought the power which she enjoys. It is not in the emperor's power to take anything from an empire which is the fruit of ten years' war and bloodshed, continued with an admirable courage and accompanied with the most unhappy agitation and an unexampled constancy. It is still less in his power to diminish the territory of a foreign state which, by entrusting him with the care of governing, had laid upon him the duty of protecting it." A few sentences added by the emperor to the diplomatic document left room for vague hopes of certain consolations. The illusions of Pius VII. began to disappear; without compensation or recompense, he had worked to consolidate for a short time the throne of the conqueror; the conquests which he had won were not of this world; the complete submission of the constitutional bishops, and the genuine respect with which the French people constantly surrounded him were due to the personal veneration which he inspired. When at last he crossed the mountains the Emperor Napoleon had reached Italy before him, as if to indicate more emphatically the condescension which the sovereign pontiff had shown to him. It was at Turin that he finally took leave of Pius VII., letting him return to Rome while he took in the cathedral of Milan the iron crown of the Lombard kings, and placed it on his head before an immense crowd of on-lookers, using the traditional words of the ancient Lombard monarchy, "God has given it me, who dare touch it?" The Cisalpine Republic no longer existed, and the Emperor of the French, King of Italy, boasted of the moderation he had evinced in keeping the two crowns apart. At one time he intended raising his brother Joseph to the new throne, but the latter was afraid of compromising his right to succeed to the imperial crown. Louis Bonaparte refused to govern in the name of the child which he had by Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of the Empress Josephine by her first marriage, whom he had married with regret. Compelled to unite, on his own head, the two crowns of France and Italy, Napoleon entrusted the care of the government to his son-in-law, Eugène de Beauharnais. His protestations of respect for the independence of the allied peoples did not prevent his annexing to the kingdom of Italy the territory of Genoa, whilst forming the domains of Lucca and Piombino into a principality in favor of his eldest sister, Elisa Baciocchi. The storm was already threatening the feeble government of Naples: the queen, obsequious in her alarm, had sent to Milan an ambassador to congratulate the emperor and king. "Tell your queen," exclaimed Napoleon, "that her intrigues are known to me, and that her children will curse her memory, for I shall not leave in her kingdom enough of land to build her tomb upon." So much brilliance and severity in the display of his sovereign power proved of service to the irreconcilable enemies who were stirring up Europe against the already uncontrollable ambition of the new emperor. Pitt had already returned to power (19th May, 1804), though with less support in Parliament, and very infirm in health. He felt himself sustained by the breath of public opinion, and by the firm confidence of the mass of the nation. In this great duel, of which he was not to see the end, it was the consolation, as well as the honor of the illustrious minister, that he had constantly defended the principles of true liberty, as well as European independence, against the encroachments and contagion of the revolutionary powers, and those of anarchy or absolutism. It was in the name of the same principles that the young Emperor of Russia then proposed to Europe a mediation which was soon to end in a coalition. Generously chimerical in his inexperience, Alexander dreamt of a general rearrangement of Europe, which was to secure forever the peace of every nation. Poland itself was to be reconstituted, Italy and Germany to recover their independence, and a new code of the rights of nations on sea and land was to regulate the relations of civilized states. Nowosiltzoff was entrusted to discuss this scheme with Pitt. It was by the prudence and skilful tact of the English minister that the scaffolding of ambitious hopes was overthrown, and the Emperor Alexander brought to the practical consideration of a durable alliance. England and Russia engaged to carry out the formation of a great European league and the legitimate re-establishment of the states. Hanover and Northern Germany were to be evacuated, the independence of Holland and Switzerland guaranteed, the King of Piedmont reestablished, the kingdom of Naples consolidated, Italy delivered. In order to bring Prussia into that alliance, Pitt proposed to grant him the Rhenish provinces. He refused formally to evacuate Malta, and pleaded the English prejudices against the Russian overtures with reference to the Turkish territory. The Emperor Alexander still hoped to obtain important concessions from Napoleon. Trusting in his sincere disinterestedness, the young monarch had got Prussia to ask passports for his envoy; Napoleon was in Italy, and said he could not receive Nowosiltzoff before July. "I expect nothing from this mediation," he wrote to the King of Prussia: "Alexander is too fickle and feeble; Russia is too far, too foreign to colonial and maritime interests; the Woronzovs too much influenced by English money, for one to have reasonable hopes of an advantageous general peace. Whenever propositions are passed at St. Petersburg to reach Paris, there is no wish to come to an understanding: in London they wish to gain time, dazzle the eyes of all the peoples, and perhaps form a coalition which should bring disgrace upon England. My brother, I wish for peace, but I do not wish to agree to my people being disinherited of the commerce of the world. I have no ambition: I have twice evacuated the third part of Europe without being compelled to do so. I owe Russia no more as to Italian affairs than she owes me with reference to Turkish and Persian affairs. Russia has not the right to take that tone with anybody, and with me still less than with anybody whatever." The Emperor Napoleon had already given his reply to Europe. The annexation of the territory of Genoa, and the threat to the Neapolitan government sufficiently proved his intentions. The treaty provisionally signed on the 11th April between England and the Emperor Alexander was confirmed; and on the 9th August, Austria, which already had a secret engagement with Russia, adhered to the Anglo-Russian alliance. Sweden joining soon after, the third coalition was now complete. Prussia remained as a common object for the negotiations and advances of all. Napoleon gave her hopes of obtaining Hanover. He had just set out for Boulogne, always the centre of his adventurous plans. Already in the previous year he believed that he had reached the accomplishment of the project so carefully matured and prepared with that mixture of foresight and boldness which so often secured the unexpected success of his attempts. His enormous preparations were at last completed, the Dutch squadron alone being waited for; and the emperor deceived the impatience of his troops and his own agitation by reviews and military ceremonies. On the 2nd July, he wrote to Admiral Latouche-Tréville, whom he had put in command of his Toulon squadron: "By the same messenger let me know on what day you will weigh anchor. Let me know also what the enemy is doing, and where Nelson is located. Reflect upon the great enterprise which you are about to execute, and before I sign your definite orders let me understand the manner in which you think they would be most advantageously carried into effect. I have appointed you Grand Officer of the Empire, Inspector of the Coasts of the Mediterranean; but I desire much that the operation you are about to undertake may enable me to elevate you to such a degree of consideration and honor, that you may have nothing more to desire. The squadron of Rochefort (commanded by Admiral Villeneuve), composed of five vessels, of which one is a three-decker, and of four frigates, is ready to weigh anchor; it has before it only five of the enemy's ships. The squadron of Brest (commanded by Admiral Ganteaume) is of twenty-one ships; these ships have just weighed anchor in order to harass the enemy and compel him to keep there a large number of vessels. The enemy have also six ships before the Texel, and there blockade the Dutch squadron, consisting of eight vessels, four frigates, and a convoy of thirty ships in which the corps of General Marmont is embarked. Between ?taples, Boulogne, Wimereux and Ambleteuse (two new ports which I have constructed) we have 1800 gun-boats of various kinds, and 120,000 men, and 10,000 horses; only let us be masters of the strait for six hours, and we shall be the masters of the world. "The enemy have before Boulogne, before Ostend, and at the Downs, two ships of seventy-four guns, two of sixty-four guns, and two or three of fifty guns. Until now Admiral Cornwallis has had only fifteen vessels, but all the reserves from Plymouth and Portsmouth have come to reinforce him before Brest. "The enemy keep also at Cork, in Ireland, four or five ships of war; I do not speak of frigates or small vessels, of which they have a large number. If you deceive Nelson, he will go to Sicily or to Egypt or to Ferrol. It would then appear to me best to make a considerable roundabout, and arrive before Rochefort; thus making your squadron one of sixteen ships and eleven frigates; and then, without dropping anchor or losing a single instant, arrive before Boulogne. Our squadron at Brest, twenty-three vessels strong, will have on board an army, and will be constantly under sail set, so that Cornwallis will be obliged to press close to the shore of Brittany in order to try and prevent the escape of our fleet. For the rest, in order to fix my ideas upon this operation, which has its risks, but of which the success offers results so enormous, I wait for the scheme you have mentioned to me, and which you will send me by return of the courier. You must embark as many provisions as possible, so that under any circumstances you may have nothing to hinder you." It is the weakness as well as the honor of human enterprises to depend upon the life and force of a man. Before Admiral Latouche-Tréville had been able to profit by the occurrence of the mistral to get out of Toulon and deceive Nelson, he himself succumbed to the illness that had preyed upon him since the expedition of San Domingo (20th August, 1804), and the projected expedition against the coast of England was indefinitely postponed. "The flotilla has been looked upon as temporary," wrote the Emperor to Decrès, the Minister of Marine; "it will be necessary henceforth to look upon it as a fixed establishment, and from this moment to give the greatest attention to all that is unchangeable, managing it by other regulations than the squadron." It was at the same time the plan of the emperor to try to turn away the thoughts of the English from his schemes of invasion; in the midst of his arrangements for the coronation, and of the diplomatic negotiations, and whilst writing a private letter to the King of England, pompously proposing peace, he had formed other designs and prepared new plans in order at last to carry out his great enterprise. It was no longer on the coasts of France or of Spain, but far away in the regions of the Antilles that the French squadrons of Toulon, Brest, and Rochefort were to effect their junction and concentrate their forces. The hope of Napoleon was to see the English, deceived by their disappearance, dash off in pursuit of them and rush to the succor of the Indies. The emperor had for a moment thought of directing the blows of his united navy against this distant and new formed empire. Returning to the project of the descent on England, he had made Admiral Villeneuve set out directly after the 30th of March. He was to join at Cadiz the Spanish Admiral Gravina and at Martinique, Admiral Missiessy, who had left Rochefort on the 11th of January. Admiral Ganteaume, taking advantage of the first moment when the English should be obliged by contrary winds to withdraw from Brest, was in his turn to set sail for Martinique. The fleet, which would then be fifty or sixty strong, assured of triumphing over all the English forces if they should dare to face it, would return into the channel to cover the departure of the flotilla. "The English do not know what calamity awaits them," wrote Napoleon on the 4th of August to the Admiral Decrès. "If we are masters of the passage for twelve hours, England's day is done." Racine has said by the mouth of Mithridates,-- "Mais, pour être approuvés, De semblables projets veulent être achevés." Villeneuve quoted it to the Minister of Marine when the plans formed by the emperor were confided to him. This mournful forecast haunted, no doubt, more than once the thoughts of the admiral when he found himself at sea, discontented and uneasy. "We have bad masts, bad sails, bad rigging, bad officers, and bad sailors," said he. Arrived, on the 14th of May, at Martinique, he found Missiessy no longer there, but his orders obliged him to await the arrival of Ganteaume. A continuous calm prevented the latter from leaving Brest, where he was blockaded by the English. At the two ends of the world, discouragement weighed upon the admirals consigned to inaction by unforeseen obstacles met with in the execution of a plan which took no account of accidents of wind or sea. In vain wrote Napoleon to Ganteaume, "You hold in your hands the destinies of the world." The unfortunate commander of the Brest squadron communicated his despair to the Minister of Marine: "I believe, my friend, that you share all my experience. Every day that passes is a day of torment for me; and I tremble lest at the end I should be obliged to commit some gross folly. The length of the days and the beauty of the season cause me to despair of the expedition." In the middle of May, Admiral Magon was despatched to Martinique to give Villeneuve orders to return with his squadron, to raise the blockade of Ferrol, to touch at Rochefort, and join Admiral Missiessy, and then to present themselves before Brest in order to force the blockade with the aid of Ganteaume. The united fleets were then to set sail towards the channel. Upon land, and until the day when success and presumption disturbed the clearness of his judgment, and the penetrating light of his genius, Napoleon was accustomed to judge soberly of the obstacles he calculated on overcoming, and of his power to do so. Without maritime experience, and struggling against the recognized superiority of the English navy, he constantly committed the error of counting on the mistakes of the enemy and of looking on the chiefs of his squadrons as equal in talent to Nelson. No sooner had the latter learnt the direction of Villeneuve than he dashed off in pursuit, caring little as to the number of vessels he might have to confront. Napoleon had miscalculated the length of the voyage. "Nelson will have been first to Surinam, thence to Trinidad, and from that to Barbadoes," wrote he on the 28th of June to Admiral Decrès; "he will lose two days at Cape Verd; he will lose much time in collecting his ships, on account of the vessels and frigates to which he will give chase on his way. When he learns that Villeneuve is not in the Windward Islands he will go to Jamaica, and during the days lost in provisioning and waiting, great blows will be struck. This is my calculation. Nelson is in America and Collingwood in the East Indies. Nelson will not venture before Martinique; he will stay at Barbadoes in order to plan a junction with Cochrane." Nelson had already quitted Barbadoes and was pursuing his adversary from anchorage to anchorage. Troubled by this formidable proximity, and pressed by the formal orders which enjoined him to transfer his efforts to the seas of Europe, Villeneuve crowded all sail to reach Ferrol. Nelson soon followed him, directing his course towards the Mediterranean, but careful to warn the Admirality, who sent Admiral Calder with fifteen vessels to the neighborhood of Cape Finisterre. It was in these waters that Villeneuve encountered Nelson on July 22nd, 1805. The weather was foggy, and the sea rough; the engagement ended without any important result, two Spanish vessels being captured by the English. Villeneuve set sail speedily towards Ferrol, without entering the Channel, the order having arrived to take his course to Brest immediately; but he lingered at Corunna, persuaded that Nelson had joined Admiral Calder, and that both would combine with Lord Cornwallis for his destruction. In again taking to sea, he let it be thought that he was setting out for Brest; General Lauriston, aide-de-camp to the emperor, and who had accompanied Villeneuve in his expedition, wrote so immediately to the emperor. But the discouragement of Villeneuve, more profound than ever, showed itself in a letter to his friend, Admiral Decrès. "They make me the arbiter of the highest interests," wrote he; "my despair doubles in proportion as more confidence is placed in me, because I cannot pretend to any success, whatever plan I adopt. It is perfectly plain to me that the fleets of France and Spain cannot be effective in large squadrons. Divisions of three or four, or five at the most, are all that we are capable of conducting. Let Ganteaume get out, and he will judge the point. Public opinion will be settled. I am about to set out, but I know not what I shall do. Eight vessels are in view of the coast at a few leagues' distance. They will follow us, but I shall not be able to join them, and they will go to unite with the other squadrons before Brest or Cadiz, according as I make my way to one or other of those ports. I am far from being in a position, in leaving this place with twenty-nine vessels, to be able to fight against a similar number; I do not fear to tell you that I should be hard put to it to encounter twenty." For three weeks past the emperor had been at Boulogne, consumed with impatience, exercising the troops every day, repeating the manoeuvres of embarkation, his attention fixed upon the sea, and ready to deliver his flotilla and his army to the mercy of the waves as soon as his squadrons should at last appear in the Channel. The days sped by; in vain ships after ships were hurried off to Admiral Villeneuve, bearing the most urgent orders. "If you run up here in three days, if only for twenty-four hours, your mission would be accomplished. The English are not so numerous as you think; they are everywhere detained by the wind. Never will a squadron have run a few risks with so great an end, and never will our soldiers have had the chance on land or sea to shed their blood for a grander or nobler result. For the great object of aiding a descent upon that power which for six centuries has oppressed France, we ought all to die without regret." The Minister of Marine, clever and experienced in naval affairs, endowed with a cold and prudent spirit, had never approved the projects of Napoleon, and had constantly sought to turn him from them. The conviction which was firmly rooted in the mind of Decrès as to the impossibility of success, in connection with the sorrowful discouragement which impelled Villeneuve towards Cadiz instead of towards Brest, increased the uneasiness as well as the anger of the emperor. Located in barracks by the seashore, whilst Napoleon resided at the Château du Pont de Briques, Decrès wrote to his terrible master: "I throw myself at the feet of your Majesty, to beseech of you not to associate the Spanish vessels with the operations of the squadrons. Far from having gained anything in this respect, your Majesty hears that this association would add to the vessels of Cadiz and Carthagena. In this state of things, in which your Majesty counts as nothing my arguments and experience, I know of no situation that would be more painful than mine. I desire your Majesty to take seriously into consideration that I have no other interest than that of your banner and the honor of your arms; and if your fleet is at Cadiz, I beseech you to consider this event as an act of destiny which reserves it for other operations. I implore you not to cause it to come from Cadiz into the channel, because the attempt at this moment would only be attended by misfortunes. I reproach myself with not being able to persuade your Majesty. I doubt if a single man could succeed in doing so. Deign to form a council upon maritime affairs--an admiralty, of those who may suit your Majesty, but as for me, I perceive that in place of growing stronger, I grow weaker every day. And it cannot but be true that a Minister of Marine, overruled by your Majesty in naval affairs, becomes useless for the glory of your arms, if, indeed, not positively hurtful." A single word from the emperor was the reply to the despairing letter of his minister:--"Raise yourself to the height of the circumstances and of the situation in which France and England now find themselves; never again write me a letter like that which you have written to me; it is not to the purpose. As for me, I have only need of one thing, and that is to succeed." In the depth of his soul; and in his secret thoughts, Napoleon saw himself conquered by a concurrence of circumstances which he had not been willing to foresee. His anger continued violent against the instrument who had failed him in his imprudent designs; he asked Decrès, however, what should be his plans in case Admiral Villeneuve were found at Cadiz, which he still refused to believe. On August 13th he wrote to Talleyrand: "The more I reflect upon the state of Europe, the more I see how urgent it is to take a decisive part. I have in reality nothing to expect from the explanations of Austria. She will answer by fine phrases and gain time, in order that I may not be able to act this winter. Her treaty of subsidies and her act of coalition will be signed this winter under the pretext of an armed neutrality, and in April I shall find 100,000 Russians in Poland, provided by England with equipment of horses, artillery, etc., 15,000 to 20,000 English at Malta, and 15,000 Russians at Corfu. I shall find myself then in a critical situation. My decision is taken. My fleet left Ferrol on the 29th Thermidor with thirty-four vessels. It had no enemy in sight. If it followed its instructions, joined itself to the squadron at Brest and entered the Channel, there is yet time, and I am master of England. If, on the contrary, my admirals hesitate, manoeuvre badly, and do not accomplish their purpose, I have no other resource than to wait for the winter to cross with the flotilla. The plan is a hazardous one. It would be more so if, pressed by circumstances, political events placed me under the obligation of passing over in the month of April. In this state of things I rush to the point where I am most needed; I raise my camps, and replace my war battalions with my third battalion, always an army sufficiently formidable for Boulogne; and on the 1st Vendémiaire I find myself with 200,000 men in Germany, and 25,000 men in the kingdom of Naples. I march upon Vienna, and I do not lay down my arms till I have taken Naples and Venice, and have so augmented the States of the Elector of Bavaria that I shall have nothing to fear from Austria. She will in this manner be certainly pacified for the winter. I return to Paris, but to be off again immediately." It was always one of the sources of power of the Emperor Napoleon, and perhaps the rarest among them, that the marvellous fecundity of his mind, and the inexhaustible variety of the projects and conceptions which he was constantly turning over, reciprocally sustained and complemented each other. This characteristic of his genius has been ignored; and little honor has been done to his foresight when he has been depicted as taken in some degree unawares by the failure of his maritime plans, and constrained to improvise by a supreme effort the direction of his campaign in Germany. In the last days of August, whilst he was still uncertain as to the movements of his squadrons, all the orders were already given for the concentration of his armies. Bernadotte was to proceed to G?ttingen with the army of Hanover; Prince Eugène was collecting his forces on the Adige; Gouvion St. Cyr was ready to march upon Naples; and Marmont to advance from the Texel upon Mayence. General Duroc had set out for Berlin, commissioned to propose an alliance. "My intention is not to leave Austria and Russia to combine with England," said Napoleon. "My conduct in that event would be that of the great Frederic in his first war." He wrote to Marshal Berthier on August 25th: "The decisive moment has arrived; you know how important a day is in this affair. Austria restrains herself no longer; she believes, without doubt, that we are all drowned in the ocean." Doubt was no longer possible; time was flying, and no news arrived of the squadron. Villeneuve had evidently retired to Cadiz. The violence and injustice of the emperor's utterances vexed Decrès beyond expression. "Villeneuve is a wretch, who ought to be ignominiously discharged," cried he; "he has neither contrivance, nor courage, nor public interest; he would sacrifice everything provided that he could save his skin." He broke out thus before Monge, for whom he had retained a true friendship, notwithstanding the known opinions of the savant, who had remained republican. Troubled by the anger of Napoleon, Monge went to apprise Daru, then principal Secretary of War, who presented himself before the emperor. Badly informed as to the intentions of the master and the causes of his discontent, he waited silently. The emperor, coming up to him, exclaimed, "Do you know where Villeneuve is? He is at Cadiz." And, unfolding before Daru all the projects he had been cherishing for six months, and attributing their failure to the cowardice and incapacity of the men he had employed, he launched out into invectives and recriminations. All of a sudden, and as if he had relieved his soul by the outburst of his passion, "Sit down there," said he to Daru, "and write!" A powerful effort, and the natural play of a fruitful imagination, had recalled him to the combinations which were to make his enemies tremble, and to assure him of the triumph over Austria of which he had been baulked as regards England. The plan of his campaign was fixed; all his thoughts turned towards a dreadful execution of his will. The secret had been carefully guarded, and already, on all sides, the French armies were threatening the enemy, when, on the 1st Vendémiaire, the emperor opened the session of the Senate. "The wishes of the eternal enemies of the Continent are fulfilled," said he. "War has broken out in the centre of Germany; Austria and Russia are leagued with England; and our generation is dragged once more into all the calamities of war. A few days ago I still hoped that peace might not be broken; menaces and outrages found me impassive; but the Austrian army has passed the Inn, Munich is invaded, the Elector of Bavaria is driven from his capital, all my hopes have vanished. Senators, when, at your desire, at the call of the entire French people, I placed upon my head the imperial crown, I received from you, and from all citizens, the promise to maintain it pure and without blemish. All the promises I have made to you I have kept; the French people in their turn have made no engagement with me which they have not even surpassed. Frenchmen, your emperor will do his duty; my soldiers will do theirs; you will do yours." General Mack had entered Ulm, and the emperor was still at Saint-Cloud. The movements of our troops were quietly going forward, when Napoleon conceived the idea of surrounding the enemy in Suabia by cutting off his communications with Austria. A note in his own handwriting, written on the 22nd of September, indicates beforehand the positions of all the corps of the army. On the 27th he arrived at Strasburg, prolonging his residence there in order to deceive the Austrian general, who kept his attention constantly fixed upon the Black Forest. On the 30th, at Strasburg, the emperor addressed to his troops a simple and firm proclamation, animated by that martial spirit which always inspired the army when he addressed it. "Soldiers, the war of the third coalition has commenced. The Austrian army has passed the Inn, broken the treaties, attacked our ally, and sent him from his capital. You yourselves have been compelled to hasten, by forced marches, to the defence of our frontiers. But already you have passed the Rhine. We will not stay our progress until we have assured the independence of the Germanic state, succored our allies, and confounded the pride of the unjust aggressors. We will have no more peace without a guarantee. Our generosity shall not again deceive our policy. Soldiers, your emperor is in the midst of you; you are only the vanguard of the great people. If it is necessary, they will rise as one man, to confound and dissolve this new league woven by the hatred and the gold of England. But, soldiers, we have forced marches to make, fatigues and privations of every kind to endure. Whatever obstacles maybe opposed to us we shall be victorious, and we will take no rest till we have planted our eagles upon the territory of our enemies." Napoleon had said, "I reckon on making more use of the legs of my soldiers than even of their bayonets." The fatal circle was narrowing round General Mack by the rapid movements of the French troops, without his appearing to comprehend their aim, or divine the danger which threatened him. On the 8th of October he still wrote, that never had an army been posted in a manner more fitted to assure its superiority. On the same day, advancing upon Günzburg, Marshals Lannes and Murat encountered at Wutingen an Austrian corps, which was tardily marching to the succor of General Kienmayer, already dislodged from the bridges of the Danube and the Lech. The engagement was short and brilliant; the fugitives bore at length to Ulm the conviction of the overwhelming forces which menaced the Austrian army. The Emperor Napoleon had arrived at Donauwerth. The first bulletin from the Grand Army was dated October 7th, explaining all the military operations: "This grand and vast movement has carried us in a few days to Bavaria; has enabled us to avoid the Black Mountains, the line of parallel rivers which fall into the Danube, and the inconvenience of a system of operations which would have always had the defiles of the Tyrol on the flank; and lastly, has placed us several marches in the rear of the enemy, who has no time to lose, to avoid his entire destruction." Napoleon was particularly watchful with respect to the Tyrol, for he had settled in his own mind that General Mack would seek an outlet on this side, to escape from the blockade with which he was menaced. The little German princes, terrified or won over, had submitted to the yoke of Napoleon, and accepted his alliance; the French troops had violated neutral territories with impunity; the Russian armies were at last making forced marches, and had just entered into Germany. At one moment Mack appeared to discover the feeble point in the enemy's line; the left bank of the Danube at Albech, was occupied by the divisions of Dupont and Baraguey d'Hilliers, insufficient for resisting a violent attack. Murat, who commanded the three divisions posted near Ulm, ordered Ney to recall all the troops posted on the left bank. The marshal was indignant and furious, but obeyed; but General Dupont had not accomplished his movement when he was assailed by a corps of 25,000 Austrians, commanded by the Archduke Ferdinand. The heroic resistance of the French troops enabled them to fall back upon Albech with 1500 prisoners. The enemy contented themselves with occupying the little town of Elchingen, and burning the bridge. Napoleon had quitted Augsburg, and Marshal Soult had just effected the capitulation of Meiningen. The emperor ordered Ney to retake the positions of Elchingen. The piles of the bridge had not been burnt, and under the fire of the Austrians the platform was replaced, and the troops rushed forward to the attack on the village. The convent which crowned the height was taken at the bayonet's point. Always pushing the enemy before him, Ney seized upon the heights of Michelsberg; the fire of his cannons commanded the grand square in Ulm. The emperor in person had just arrived at the camp. The Archduke Ferdinand had succeeded in escaping during the night. In spite of a frightful tempest he gained Biberach, and rejoined Wernek in Bohemia. Murat pursued him, while Marshal Soult occupied Biberach. Henceforth Mack found himself without resources. "The general-in-chief was in the city," said the sixth bulletin of the grand army. "It is the destiny of generals opposed to the emperor to be taken in town. It will be remembered that after the splendid manoeuvres of the Brenta, the old Field-Marshal Wurmser was made prisoner at Mantua; Melas was taken in Alexandria; so is Mack in Ulm." The emperor caused the Prince of Lichtenstein, major-general of the Austrian army, to be summoned. "I desire" said he "that the place capitulate; if I take it by assault, I shall he compelled to do what I did at Jaffa, where the garrison was put to the sword. It is the sad law of war. I desire that the necessity for such a frightful act should he spared to me, as well as to the brave Austrian nation. The place is not tenable." Mack consented to surrender if he was not succored before the 25th of October. The rain fell in torrents. For eight days the emperor had not taken off his boots. The Austrian prisoners were astonished to see him, "soaked, covered with mud, as much fatigued as the lowest drummer in his army, and even more so." An aide-de-camp repeated to Napoleon the remarks of the enemy's officers. Napoleon replied quickly, "Your master has been desirous of making me remember that I am a soldier," said he. "I hope he will be convinced that the throne and the imperial purple have not made me forget my first business." Wernek had laid down his arms at Nordlingen; the archduke was fleeing into Bohemia before the cavalry of Murat: the corps of Jellachich in the Tyrol, and that of Kienmayer beyond the Inn, could send no succors to General Mack. Urged to escape the horror of the situation, he forestalled the day fixed for the capitulation: on the 20th of October, 1805, the garrison at Ulm, which still counted 24,000 or 25,000 men, defiled slowly before the conqueror. The troops were prisoners of war, the cannons and flags had been abandoned; seven lieutenant-generals, eight generals, and the general-in-chief, Mack, kept at the emperor's side, were present with death in their souls at the ceremonial which proved their defeat. "In fifteen days we have finished a campaign," said the proclamation of Napoleon to his soldiers. "That which we proposed is completed. We have driven the troops of the House of Austria from Bavaria, and re-established our ally in the sovereignty of his States. That army which, with as much ostentation as imprudence, came forward to place itself on our frontiers, is annihilated. But what matters it to England? Her purpose is answered; we are not at Boulogne, and the subsidy which she grants to Austria will be neither larger nor smaller." England resented the defeat of her ally more keenly than Napoleon acknowledged in the bitterness of his hate. The rumor of the capitulation of Ulm had reached London. On November 2nd, Lord Malmesbury was seated at table beside Pitt, and spoke to him of the rumors he had heard. "Don't believe a word of it; it is simply a lie," said Pitt, roughly, raising his voice so as to make himself heard by those around him. "But the next day, Sunday, the 3rd," continues Lord Malmesbury in his journal, "he entered my house with Lord Mulgrave, about one o'clock, and they brought with them a Dutch journal which contained at full length the capitulation of Ulm. Neither of them knew that language, and all the officials were away. I translated the article as well as I could, and I saw very clearly the effect that it produced upon Pitt, in spite of the efforts he made to hide it. This was the last time that I saw him. This visit left upon me a profound impression, his manners and countenance were so altered; I conceived from it, in spite of myself, the sad presentiment of the misfortune which threatened us." Pitt was again, for one day only, to taste for an instant of patriotic joy, bitterly mingled with regret. In spite of the bravery to which Napoleon did not always render justice, the French sailors, inexperienced and badly commanded, had alone failed in the great projects confided to them, and thwarted the hopes of the emperor. Before setting out for Strasburg he had ordered the fleet at Brest to make several cruises, and the fleet at Cadiz to take the soldiers it had on board to the support of the movement of Gouvion St. Cyr in the Bay of Naples. "It might seize an English vessel and a Russian frigate which are to be found there: it could remain in the waters near Naples all the time necessary to do the greatest possible harm to the enemy and intercept the convoy which he is projecting to send to Malta. After this expedition it will return to Toulon, where it will effect for me a powerful diversion. I estimate then that it is necessary to do two things, first to send a special message to Admiral Villeneuve, ordering him to effect this manoeuvre; second, as his excessive pusillanimity will hinder him from undertaking it, you will send Admiral Rosily to replace him. He will be the bearer of letters enjoining upon Admiral Villeneuve to return to France, to render an account of his conduct." The minister of Marine was a friend of Villeneuve, and in announcing to him the departure of Admiral Rosily, he did not make him acquainted with his own disgrace. Leaving the consequences to chance, he had given up the endeavor to influence the imperious will of Napoleon with regard to the squadrons, and he dared not give instructions to Villeneuve. Villeneuve divined what his friend hid from him. "The sailors of Paris and the departments will be very unworthy and very foolish if they cast a stone at me," wrote he to Decrès. "They will have themselves prepared the condemnation which will strike them later on. Let them come on board the squadrons, and they will see against what elements they are exposed to fight. For the rest, if the French marine, as is maintained, has only failed in daring, the emperor will shortly be satisfied, and may count upon the most brilliant successes." In the middle of October, without having united with the Spanish squadron of Carthagena, nor the vessels which he had formerly imprudently detached under the orders of Captain Allemand, Villeneuve left Cadiz in company with Admiral Gravina and some Spanish vessels. The latter were large and heavy, difficult to manoeuvre, and fitted with very second-rate crews. The squadron of battle, commanded by Admiral Villeneuve and the Spanish Vice- Admiral Alava, numbered twenty-one vessels. The squadron of reserve, composed of twelve vessels, had been placed under the orders of Admiral Gravina. The forces of Nelson numerically equalled those of Villeneuve, but they were infinitely superior to his in the quality of the vessels and their crews. The illustrious English admiral was ill; for several weeks he had sought repose in England. When he offered to resume the command of the fleet, he was impressed with the idea that he should not again see his country. He called upon the workman entrusted with making a coffin, which Captain Hollowell had ordered to be made from a fragment of the keel of the French vessel L'Orient [Footnote: L'Orient, commanded by Admiral Brueys, foundered at Aboukir.] "Engrave the history of this coffin on the plate," said he; "I shall probably have need of it before long." When at length he appeared on board, the sailors cheered him as the assurance of victory. The English admiral had carefully concealed the number of his vessels, fearing Villeneuve might hesitate in view of his forces. On the 21st the Franco-Spanish fleet was entirely at sea, sailing in order of battle. The English had formed in two lines; Admiral Collingwood, upon the _Royal Sovereign_, commanded the first; Nelson, on board the _Victory_, directed the second. He had given orders to bear down upon the French lines in order to cut them. "The part of the enemy's fleet that you leave out of the fight," said he, "will come with difficulty to the assistance of the part attacked, and you will have conquered before it arrives." The same signal was hoisted all over the fleet, "England expects that every man will do his duty." Villeneuve had not less nobly announced his intentions to his officers. "You need not wait for signals from the admiral," were his orders; "in the confusion of a naval battle it is often impossible to see what is going forward, or to give orders, or above all to get them understood. Each one ought to listen only to the voice of honor, and throw himself into the place of greatest danger. Every captain is at his post if he is under fire." It was the misfortune of Admiral Villeneuve in the battle of Trafalgar, that he did not adhere to his original instructions. Gravina asked for authority to manoeuvre in an independent manner. Villeneuve objected, and ordered him to place himself in line. Already at midday Admiral Collingwood, separated from his column by the superior swiftness of the _Royal Sovereign_, engaged so hotly in battle with the _Santa Anna_, the flag-ship of the Spaniard Alava, that he soon found himself in the midst of the enemy. "See how that brave Collingwood hurls himself into action," said Nelson to his flag-officer; whilst on his own deck, in the midst of the bullets that rained around him, Collingwood cried, "Nelson would give all the world to be here." The greater number of the Spanish captains offered a feeble resistance, and Collingwood had already cut the line of battle. Gravina, upon the _Prince- des-Asturies_, was surrounded by English vessels. The _Fougueux_, the _Pluton_, the _Algésiras_, commanded by Rear-Admiral Magon, heroically resisted overwhelming attacks. The _Redoutable_, the _Santissima- Trinidad_, and the French flag-ship the _Bucentaure_, crowded in upon each other, waited for the assault of the second column, which Nelson brought against them. Like Collingwood, he had got in advance of his squadron. The officers had begged of him to leave the vanguard to the _Téméraire_. "I am quite willing," said Nelson, "that the _Téméraire_ should get in front if it can;" and spreading all sail on board the _Victory_, he advanced first against the enemy. Already his topmast had been struck, and fifty men placed _hors de combat_. The English admiral had given orders to separate the _Redoutable_ from the _Bucentaure_; but Captain Lucas, who commanded the former vessel, profited by a slight breath of wind, and his bowsprit touched the stern of the _Bucentaure_. Nelson then engaged the _Redoutable_, dashing against it with a shock so violent that both vessels were thrown out of the line; the _Bucentaure_ and the _Santissima-Trinidad_ were also surrounded by the English. The struggle continued between Nelson and his courageous adversary; the flames were breaking out every moment upon the French vessel. "Hardy, this is too hot to last long," said Nelson to his flag- captain. Presently a ball from the topmast of the Redoutable struck the illustrious sailor in the loins. He fell, still supporting himself by one hand. "Hardy, they have done for me now," said he. "No! not yet," cried the captain, who sought to raise him up. "Yes," replied Nelson, "the spine is hit;" and drawing his handkerchief from his pocket, he himself covered his face and his decorations, in order to hide his fall from his crew. "Take care!" said he, as they carried him down; "the cable of the helm is cut." Between decks was crowded with the wounded and the dying. "Attend to those whom you can save," said he to the surgeon; "as for me, there is nothing to be done." Meanwhile he listened anxiously, noticing the discharges of artillery, seeking to divine the issue of the combat. The _Redoutable_ had been attacked by the _Téméraire_ and the Neptune at the moment when the French sailors were preparing to board the _Victory_. Captain Lucas was compelled to haul down his flag; of the 660 men of his crew, 522 were _hors de combat_. The _Bucentaure_, caught by its bowsprit in the gallery of the _Santissima-Trinidad_, was overwhelmed by the enemy, and, held in its position by the Spanish vessel, completely dismasted. Already the flag-officer and two lieutenants had been wounded by the side of Admiral Villeneuve, who courted death in vain. The _Bucentaure_ was cut down close like a pontoon. The admiral wished to pass on to another vessel. Not a single boat was left him. When he at last pulled down his flag he could not reply with a single cannon-shot to the English vessels that were bent on his destruction. Nelson still breathed. "Where is Hardy?" he repeated; "if he does not come to me, it is because he is dead." The captain presently came down, too much moved to utter a word. "How is it now with us?" said the dying man. "All goes well," said Hardy; "ten vessels have already lowered their flag. I see that the French are signalling to the vanguard to tack about. If they come against the _Victory_ we will call for aid, and give them a beating." "I hope none of our ships have surrendered," said Nelson. "There is no danger," replied Hardy, who returned to his post. When he reappeared, Nelson's eyes were closed. The captain stooped over him. "We have fifteen prizes," said he. "I counted upon twenty," murmured the dying man. Then rousing himself, "Anchor, Hardy, anchor; give the signal! Kiss me ... I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty." He expired,--just forty-seven years of age. The French Admiral Magon was still defending the _Algesiras_, attacked by the _Tonnant_; he wanted to board her, but his deck was swept by the grape shot of fresh assailants. Himself threatened with being boarded, the admiral repulsed the English, axe in hand, at the head of his sailors. He was covered with wounds. Bretonnière, become flag officer by the death of his seniors, implored Magon to have his wounds dressed; as he yielded to the request, a cannon-shot penetrating between decks struck him in the chest, and he was dead. The _Algésiras_ at last hauled down her flag, at the moment when the _Achille_, for some time already the prey of flames which the crew had no time to extinguish, blew up with a terrific explosion. Thus ended the battle. Admiral Gravina rallied round him eleven vessels; a few had at an early period withdrawn from the combat. Admiral Dumanoir, who had not succeeded in engaging his vanguard, had already retired. The English carried off seventeen vessels, for the most part too shattered to be of service. The unfortunate French admiral was received by the conquerors with the honor due to his bravery. A few months later, when released by the enemy, Villeneuve in despair was to die by his own hand in an inn at Rennes, writing in the last moment these heartrending words: "What a blessing that I have no child to receive my horrible inheritance, and live under the weight of my name!" The last orders of Nelson in dying, recommended the fleet to be anchored; Collingwood judged otherwise, and waited till daylight. Already Admiral Gravina had taken his vessels into the port of Cadiz, when a furious tempest broke forth, irresistible by the ships so dreadfully damaged in the conflict. The English had so much to do in looking after their own safety that they could not attend to their prizes, and the officer having charge of the _Bucentaure_ resigned it to the French commanders: the unfortunate vessel perished on the coast, opposite Cape Diamant. Indomitable in defeat as in battle, the officers and sailors of the _Algesiras_ forced their guardians to surrender the vessel. They at last escaped death, after two nights of anguish and struggle. At their side the _Indomptable_, all hung with lanterns, its deck crowded with a despairing crew, was forced from its anchors by the hurricane, and shattered against the rocks. The English lost all their prizes but four; they were compelled to sink the _Swiftsure_, captured by Admiral Ganteaume and which they were intent on recapturing from us. Nelson had made the request in dying, "Do not cast my poor body into the sea." The most extraordinary honors awaited in England the remains of this great seaman: the broken mast of his flag-ship, and one of the French bullets whicn struck him, still attract attention in a room at Windsor. The whole nation put on mourning; the politicians forgot the embarrassment which he had more than once caused them, and which had drawn from one of them the expression, "He is an heroic cockney." The splendor of his military genius, his devotion to his country, the noble simplicity of his character, inspired all minds with respect. The hero of the struggle against France, he fell at the height of his glory. He had taken part in nearly all the maritime victories which had signalized the war: the names of Aboukir, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar render his memory glorious. The emperor bore the blow of his defeat without showing despondency or anger. "All this makes no change in my cruising projects," wrote he on the 18th November, to Admiral Decrès; "I am even annoyed that all is not ready. They must set out without delay. Cause all the troops that are on board the squadron to come to me by land. They will wait my orders at the first town in France." Napoleon was then at Znaïm in Moravia, and the date of his letter told the story of his astonishing successes. Abandoned by the King of Prussia, with whom the Austrians and the Russians had turned to account the violation of his territory, Napoleon prepared to dispute Hanover with new enemies, without modifying his general plan, and without renouncing his march upon Vienna. The Russian army of Kutuzof alone barred his way; but already it was commencing a clever movement of retreat, never fighting without necessity, firm and resolute, however, when attacked. The Russians passed the Danube at Krems, destroying the bridges behind them. They committed great ravages during their march, and had gained the ill-will of the Austrian corps who went with them, and who fell back upon Vienna. With great imprudence General Mortier had been detached on the left bank of the Danube, where he was attacked by the larger portion of the Russian army at the very moment when he found himself separated from the division of Dupont. In spite of the heroic resistance of the French soldiers the danger was imminent. Mortier was urged to take to a boat, and not deliver to the enemy a marshal of France. "Who would leave such brave men?" replies Mortier; "we will be saved or perish together." A road lay open across the ground occupied by the Russians, to the village of Dernstein; the soldiers of General Dupont entered it at the same time from another direction. They hastened by forced marches to the succor of the marshal. Napoleon's anger fell heavily on Murat, whom he accused, not without reason, of vainglorious levity. Already the brilliant general of cavalry had presented himself at the gates of Vienna. The Emperor Francis had not wished to expose his capital to the horrors of a siege; when he saw the proposals for an armistice rejected which he had addressed to Napoleon (November 8th) he prepared to quit Vienna. Less menacing than at Ulm, the conqueror no longer invited the Emperor of Austria to meditate upon the fall of empires: he reminded him that the present war was for Russia only a fancy war; "for your Majesty and myself it is a war that absorbs all our means, all our sentiments, all our faculties." Fifteen days later Napoleon entered the palace of Schoenbrunn. Thanks to a ruse, more daring than fair, Murat had succeeded in carrying the bridges of Vienna at the moment when the workmen were preparing to blow them up; he was on the march for Moravia, pursuing the Russians, with the co-operation of Mortier and Bernadotte. By his superior ability Napoleon struck his enemies at once with terror and astonishment, paralyzing their forces by their anxiety at the unforeseen blows he dealt them. The Archduke Charles had long remained immovable on the Adige; when he at last commenced his retreat he marched to the assistance of the threatened empire, and was pursued by Masséna. The marshal attacked the archduke in his camp of Caldiero after having seized Verona by night, and had fought him on the shores of the Tagliamento; he was now approaching Marmont, who occupied the Styrian Alps. The Archduke Charles rallying the remains of the army of his brother, the Archduke John, was engaged with him in Hungary, in order to rejoin the Russian army in Moravia. Before the two masses of the enemy could reach Brünn, and in spite of the clever manoeuvre of Kutuzoff, who succeeded before Hollabrunn in concealing from Murat and Lannes the great bulk of his army, the French were, on the 19th of November, in possession of the capital of Moravia. Napoleon entered it next day. The Emperor Alexander joined the Emperor of Austria at Olmütz. Proud of his diplomatic successes at Berlin, and convinced that his visit to the King of Prussia had alone decided him to attach himself to the coalition, he nursed a military ambition, assiduously encouraged by his young favorites. The Emperor Francis sent Stadion and Giulay to Brünn, commissioned to treat for conditions of peace. Napoleon referred them to Talleyrand, whom he had sent to Vienna. "They know the state of the question by what I have said to them in a few words," wrote he; "but you have to treat it smoothly and at full length. My intention is absolutely to have the State of Venice, and to reunite it to the kingdom of Italy. I have good cause to think that the court of Vienna has taken its resolution on that point." Napoleon was wishing for peace--immediate, glorious, and fruitful. He had vainly sought to separate the Austrians from the Russians; he could not doubt the hostile intentions of Prussia. The very explanations that Haugwitz had just given him as to the motives for the entry of a Prussian army into Hanover foreshadowed plenty of approaching hostilities: a brilliant victory, forestalling the union of the German and Russian forces, became necessary. For a few days the soldiers rested, recruiting their forces after their long and perilous marches. The impatience of the Emperor Alexander had already carried the general quarters of the allies to Wischau. It was there that General Savary presented himself, intrusted with aimless negotiations, which gave him opportunity to examine the condition of the Austro-Russian army. Prince Dolgorouki, sent from Brünn with the reply of the Emperor Alexander, was received at the advanced posts. The young favorite was thoughtless and proud. "What do they want of me?" said Napoleon. "Why does the Emperor Alexander make war on me? Is he jealous of the growth of France? Well, let him extend his frontiers at the expense of his neighbors on the side of Turkey, and all quarrels will be at an end." Dolgorouki protested the disinterestedness of his master. "The emperor wishes," said he "for the independence of Europe, the evacuation of Holland and Switzerland, an indemnity for the King of Sardinia, and barriers round France for the protection of its neighbors." Napoleon broke out in a passion: "I will never yield anything in Italy, even if the Russians should camp upon the heights of Montmartre." He sent back the negotiator, who had perceived the movements of troops falling back around Brünn. Ignorant of the great principle which directed the campaigns of Napoleon--"divide in order to subsist, concentrate in order to fight"--he thought he divined the preparations for retreat. The ardor of the Russian army grew more intense. It advanced towards the position long studied by Napoleon, and which he destined for his field of battle. In accordance with the plan of the Austrian general, Weirother, who was in great favor with the Emperor Alexander, the allies had resolved to turn the right of the French army, in order to cut off the road to Vienna by isolating numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. Already the two emperors and their staff-officers occupied the castle and village of Austerlitz. On December 1st, 1805, the allies established themselves upon the plateau of Platzen; Napoleon had by design left it free. Divining, with the sure instinct of superior genius, the manoeuvres of his enemy, he had cleverly drawn them into the snare. His proclamation to the troops announced all the plan of the battle. "Soldiers," said he, "the Russian army presents itself before you to avenge the Austrian army of Ulm. These are the same battalions which you have beaten at Hollabrunn, and that you have constantly pursued to this place. "The positions that we occupy are formidable, and whilst they march to turn my right they will present me their flank. "Soldiers, I will myself direct your battalions. I will keep myself away from the firing if, with your accustomed bravery, you carry disorder and confusion into the enemy's ranks. But if the victory were for a moment uncertain you would see your emperor expose himself to the brunt of the attack; for this victory will finish the campaign, and we shall be able to resume our winter quarters, where we shall be joined by new armies which are forming in France. Then the peace I shall make will be worthy of my people, of you, and of me." It was late, and the emperor had just dismissed Haugwitz, whom he had sent back to Vienna. "I shall see you again if I am not carried off to-morrow by a cannon-ball. It will be time then to understand each other." Napoleon went out to visit the soldiers at the bivouac. A great ardor animated the troops; it was remembered that the 2nd December was the anniversary of the coronation of the emperor. The soldiers gathered up the straw upon which they were stretched, making it into bundles, which they lit at the end of poles; a sudden illumination lit up the camp. "Be assured," said an old grenadier, advancing towards the chief who had so many times led his comrades to victory, "I promise thee that we will bring thee to-morrow the flags and the cannon of the Russian army to signalize the anniversary of the 2nd December." The fires were extinguished, and the enemies thought they saw in it the indication of a nocturnal retreat. Gathered around a map, the allied generals listened to Weirother, who developed his plan of battle "with a boasting air, which displayed in him a clear persuasion of his own merit and of our incapacity," says General Langeron, a French emigrant officer in the Russian army. Old Kutuzof slept. "If Bonaparte had been able to attack us, he would have done it to-day," was the assurance of Weirother. "You do not then think him strong?" "If he has 40,000 men, it is all." "He has extinguished his fires; a good deal of noise comes from his camp." "He is either retreating or else he is changing his position; if he takes that of Turas, he will spare us a good deal of trouble, and the dispositions of the troops will remain the same." The day was scarcely begun (2nd December, 1805) when the allied army was on the march. The noise of the preparations in the camps had reassured Napoleon as to the direction the enemy would take. On the previous evening, whilst listening to the learned lecture of Weirother, Prince Bagration, formerly the heroic defender of the positions of Hollabrunn, had uttered under his long moustache, "The battle is lost!" In seeing his enemies advance towards the right, as he had himself announced to his soldiers, Napoleon could not withhold the signs of his joy. He held the victory in his own hands. He waited patiently until his enemies had deployed their line. The sun had just risen, shining through the midst of a fog, which it dispersed with its brilliant rays. The plateau of Pratzen was in part abandoned; the emperor gave the signal, and the whole French army moved forward, forming an enormous and compact mass, eager to hurl itself on the enemy. "See how the French climb the height without staying to respond to our fire!" said Prince Czartoriski, who watched the battle near the two emperors. He was still speaking when already the allied columns, thrown out one after another on the slope, found themselves arrested in their movement and separated from the two wings of the army. Old Kutuzof, badly wounded, strove in vain to send aid to the disordered centre. "See, see, a mortal wound!" he cried, extending his arms towards Pratzen. During this time the right, commanded by Marshal Davout, disputed with the Russians the line of Goldbach, extricating with the division of Friant General Legrand for a moment outflanked. Murat and Lannes attacked on the left eighty-two Russian and Austrian squadrons, under the orders of Prince John of Lichtenstein. The infantry advanced in quick time against the Uhlans sent against them, soon dispersed by the light cavalry of Kellermann. The Russian batteries drowned the sound of all the drums of the first regiment of the division of Cafarelli. General Valhubert had his thigh fractured, and his soldiers wished to carry him away. "Remain at your posts," said he calmly. "I know well how to die alone. We must not for one man lose six." The Russian guard at last turned towards Pratzen. A French battalion, which had let itself be drawn in pursuit, was in danger. Napoleon, stationed at the centre with the infantry of the guard, and the corps of Bernadotte, perceived the disorder. "Take there the Mamelukes and the chasseurs of the guard," said he to Rapp. When the latter returned to the emperor he was wounded, but the Russians, were repulsed, and Prince Repnin prisoner. A Russian division, isolated at Sokolnitz, had just surrendered; two columns had been thrown back beyond the marshes. The bridge broke under the weight of the artillery. The cold was intense; and the soldiers thought to save themselves by springing upon the ice, but already the French cannon-balls were breaking it under their feet. With cries of despair they were engulfed in the waters of the lake. Generals Doctoroff and Keinmayer effected their painful retreat, under the fire of our batteries, by a narrow embankment, separating the two lakes of Melnitz and Falnitz. Only the corps of Prince Bagration still kept in order of battle, Marshal Lannes having restrained his troops which were rushing forward in pursuit. The day had come to a close; the two emperors had abandoned the terrible battle-field. Behind them resounded the French shouts of victory; around them, before them, they heard the imprecations of the fugitives, the groans of the wounded, unable any longer to keep on their way, the complaints of the peasants ravaged by the furious soldiery. They arrived thus at the imperial castle of Halitsch, where they found themselves next day pressed by Marshal Davout. Austerlitz became the headquarters of the conqueror. Before even having reached a place of safety the Emperor Francis, gloomy and calm, had in his own mind taken his decision. Prince John of Lichtenstein was sent to ask from Napoleon an armistice and an interview. The conqueror was still traversing the field of battle, attentive in procuring for his soldiers the care that their bravery merited. "The interview, when the emperor will, the day after to-morrow, at our advanced posts," said he to the Austrian envoy; "until then, no armistice." Whilst Napoleon was speaking to his army and to Europe, Marshal Lannes and the cavalry were already pursuing the vanquished enemy. "Soldiers, I am satisfied with you," said he in his proclamation of the 3rd December, 1805. "You have upon the day of Austerlitz justified all that I expected from your intrepidity. An army of 100,000 men, commanded by the Emperors of Russia and Austria, has been in less than four hours either cut up or dispersed, and what escaped from your steel is drowned in the lakes. Forty flags, the standards of the Imperial Guard of Russia, a hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, twenty generals, and more than thirty thousand prisoners are the results of this ever-memorable day. In three months this third coalition has been vanquished and dissolved. Soldiers, when all that is necessary in order to assure the happiness and prosperity of France shall be accomplished, I will lead you back into France; there you will be the object of my most tender solicitude. My people will see you again with joy, and it will suffice for you to say, 'I was at the battle of Austerlitz,' to receive the reply, 'There is a hero!'" The army rested, intoxicated with pride and joy. The losses, considerable in themselves, were small in comparison with the disasters inflicted on the coalition; the arrogance of the Russians had undergone a most painful check; the youthful illusions of their Czar cruelly dissipated. The Emperor of Austria informed him of his pacific intentions, and Alexander hastened to release his allies from their engagements; he was in a hurry to retire and disengage himself from a war which could procure for him no other advantage than a vain hope of glory. Napoleon repeated his former sentiments to the Emperor Francis when he met him next day at the mill of Paleny, between Nasiedlowitz and Urschitz. "Do not confound your cause with that of the Emperor Alexander. Russia can to- day only make a fancy war (_une guerre de fantaisie_). Conquered, she retires into her deserts, and you pay all the costs of the war." Then, gracefully returning to the courtesies of society, the all-powerful conqueror made excuses for the poor place in which he was compelled to receive his illustrious host. "These are the palaces," said he, "which your Majesty has compelled me to inhabit for three months past." "Your visit has succeeded sufficiently well for you to have no right to bear me any grudge," replied the Emperor Francis. The two monarchs embraced, and the armistice was concluded. The Russians were to retire by stages, and the seat of negotiations was fixed at Brünn. A formal order from Napoleon was necessary in order to stop the march of Marshal Davout in pursuit of the Russian army. General Savary was entrusted with this order; he brought to the Czar the conditions of the armistice. "I am satisfied, since my ally is," replied Alexander, and he allowed to escape from him the expression of an admiration which was long to exercise over him a profound influence. "Your master has shown himself very great," said he to Savary. Napoleon left Talleyrand at Brünn exchanging arguments with Stadion and Giulay; he himself repaired to Vienna, where Haugwitz awaited him. Imperfectly instructed as to the alliance concluded on the 3rd of November at Potsdam between the King of Prussia and the allies, he knew enough of it to break forth in violent reproaches against the perfidy of the Prussian Government. And as Haugwitz made excuses and protests, the Emperor proposed to him all of a sudden that union with France which had been so often discussed. Hanover was to be the price of it. Prussia was uneasy, frightened, divided in her councils, but she accepted; the Marquisate of Anspach, the Principality of Neufchâtel, and the Duchy of Clèves were ceded to France, and the treaty was signed at Sch?nbrunn on the 15th December, 1805. Prussia recognized all the conquests of Napoleon; the two sovereigns reciprocally guaranteed each other's possessions. Talleyrand had just quitted Brünn, which had become unhealthy through the overcrowding of the hospitals; the negotiations were being carried on at Presburg. In spite of the wise and prudent counsels of his minister, Napoleon was resolved on exacting from Austria still more than he had declared before Ulm. The defection of Prussia had thoroughly disheartened the plenipotentiaries of the Emperor Francis. The French armies concentrated afresh around Vienna. Napoleon was doubly imperious, threatening to recommence the war; the negotiators at length yielded to necessity. On the 26th of December, 1805, peace was signed at Presburg between France and Austria. The Emperor Francis abandoned to the conqueror Venice, Istria, Frioul, and Dalmatia, which were to become part of the kingdom of Italy; the Tyrol and Vorarlberg, of which Napoleon made a present to Bavaria; the outlying territories of Suabia, handed over to Wurtemberg; the Brisgau, Ortenau, and the city of Constance, which were added to the territories of the Elector of Baden. Napoleon ceded to the Emperor the Principality of Wurtzburg for one of the archdukes; the secularization of the Teutonic Order was agreed upon to the profit of Austria; the latter power was to pay a war indemnity of forty millions. The small German princes, who beheld their possessions increased and their titles made more glorious by the powerful hand of the conqueror, were in their turn to pay the price of the terrible alliance which weighed upon them. The new Kings of Wurtemberg and Bavaria found themselves obliged to give their daughters to Jerome Bonaparte and to Eugène de Beauharnais; the marriage that the former had contracted in America, and the betrothal of the Princess of Bavaria to the son of the Elector of Baden, weighed nothing in the balance in comparison with the iron will of Napoleon. Intimidated and restless, the Elector of Baden himself broke off the marriage of his son, accepting for him the hand of Stéphani de Beauharnais, niece of the Empress Josephine. Before taking the road to France, the Emperor was present at the marriage of the vice-King of Italy with the princess whose portrait he had seen a few days before upon a porcelain cup. Everything had yielded to his power,--sovereigns, families, and hearts. Russia and England alone remained openly enemies. "Rest awhile, my children," said the Archduke Charles in disbanding his army; "rest awhile, until we begin again." I have been desirous of conducting General Bonaparte, now become the Emperor Napoleon, up to the popular summit of his glory. He had already tainted it by many acts of violence, and by an exclusive devotion to personal ends, in defiance of justice and liberty. Henceforward and under the disastrous inspirations of a mad ambition, victory itself was to become a fatal seduction which by inevitable degrees draws us on to ruin. Great and terrible lesson of Divine justice on the morality of nations! Starting from the violation of the peace of Amiens, and in spite of the glory of the sun of Austerlitz, the history of the glory of the conqueror includes in germ the history of his fall, and of the ever-increasing misfortunes of France.