And a few days afterwards: "The siege of Saragossa resembles in nothing any war we have hitherto had. It is a business requiring great prudence and great energy. We are obliged to take every house by mining or assault. These wretches defend themselves with a keen determination which is inconceivable. In a word, sire, it is a horrible war. At this moment three or four parts of the town are on fire, and it is crushed with shells, yet our enemies are not intimidated. We are laboring might and main to get to the faubourg; and once we are masters of it, I hope the town will not long hold out."
During the first siege of Saragossa, Marshal Lefebvre, on getting possession of one of the principal convents, sent to Joseph Palafox the short despatch: "Head-quarters, Santa-Engracia. Capitulation." And the defender of the place replied: "Head-quarters, Saragossa. War to the knife." It was war to the knife, to the musket, to the mine, which was pursued from house to house, from story to story. To go along the streets, the French soldiers were obliged to slip past close to the walls, the enemy being so keen and eager that a shako or coat held up on the point of a sword to deceive them was instantly riddled with balls. More than one detachment after taking a building were suddenly blown up, by being secretly undermined. Our soldiers in their turn replied by some important underground works, which were ably organized by Lacoste, colonel of the engineers. From the 29th January to the 18th February the same struggle was pursued, with the same keen determination. A day was chosen for the assault of the faubourg, which General Gazan had long invested. The troops were impatient to make this last effort, being both irritated and depressed. They both suffered and saw others suffer. The misery in the town, however, was greater than the besiegers could suspect. A terrible epidemic was decimating those who were left of the defenders of Saragossa. Joseph Palafox himself was dying.
After the breach was opened in the ramparts of the faubourg, a frightful explosion announced the destruction of the immense University buildings, laying open to our soldiers the Coso, or Holy Street, which passed through the whole town. The ground was everywhere mined, and the very heart of Saragossa was at its last extremity, when the Junta of Defence at last yielded to the necessity which was bearing them down, and a messenger presented himself before Marshal Lannes in the name of Don Joseph Palafox. We have seen the painful illusions created by the isolation of a besieged town: the defenders of Saragossa believed that the Spanish had been victorious everywhere, and it was only on the word of honor of Marshal Lannes that they accepted the sad truth. The 12,000 men of the garrison who had resisted all the horrors of the siege, surrendered as prisoners of war. Of 100,000 inhabitants who had crowded Saragossa, 54,000 had perished. There were heaps of dead bodies round the old church, Our Lady del Pilar, object of the passionate devotion of the whole population. In their real heart, and at the first moment of victory, the French soldiers felt for the defenders of Saragossa an admiration mixed with anger and alarm. Rage alone animated the heart of their most illustrious leader. Napoleon had sometimes honored the resistance of his enemies, as at Mantua; now, on his attaining the height of power and glory, he no longer admitted that the Spanish should defend their independence against a usurpation stained with perfidy. "My Brother," he wrote to King Joseph on the 11th March, "I have read an article in the Madrid Gazette, giving an account of the taking of Saragossa, in which they eulogize those who defended that town—no doubt to encourage those of Valencia and Seville. That is certainly a strange policy. I am sure there is not a Frenchman who has not the greatest scorn for those who defended Saragossa. Those who allow such vagaries are more dangerous for us than the insurgents. In a proclamation, mention is already made of Saguntum: that, in my opinion, is most imprudent."
Many things at this juncture chafed the mind of the imperious master of the world. He had left Spain immediately after a series of successes, without deceiving himself as to their importance and decisive value with reference to the permanent establishment of the French monarchy in Madrid. He foresaw the difficulties and perpetually recurring embarrassments of a command being divided, when the nominal authority of King Joseph was unable to govern lieutenants who were powerful, distinguished, and jealous. To obviate this inconvenience, and maintain that unity of action which he considered an indispensable element of success, he had kept to himself the supreme direction of the military operations, and attempted to govern the war in Spain from a distance, at the moment when he was organizing and recruiting his armies to support in Germany a determined struggle against all the forces of the Austrian empire. Italy, Holland, the Rhenish Confederation, all the states which he had founded or subdued, claimed his support or vigilance. Russia remained quiet because she was powerless and disarmed, but a serious check would have speedily thrown her with ardor on the side of his enemies. Russia, compelled by recent treaties and pressing interests, concealed under friendly phrases a secret indifference, and the beginning of her enmity: being, moreover, occupied by her own conquests, by the uncompleted subjugation of Finland, and a renewal of her struggle with Turkey. England, irritated and humiliated by the check undergone by her attempts at intervention in Spain, was energetically preparing new and more successful efforts. In presence of so many enemies, concealed or declared—compelled to regulate so many affairs, the government, oppression, and conquest of so many races— Napoleon, on returning to Paris after his Spanish campaign, had found men's dispositions changed, and precursory signs of an open discontent which he was not accustomed to meet or to suffer.
Even in Spain the rumor of this modification of the national thought had already reached Napoleon's ears: he had read it in the letters of his most intimate correspondents, and imagined it even in the eyes of his soldiers. The rage of the despot burst forth one day in Valladolid: when passing along the ranks of the troops he was leaving behind, on hearing some of them muttering he is said to have snatched from the hand of a grenadier a musket, which seemed awkwardly held, exclaiming, "You wretch! you deserve to be shot, and I have a good mind to have it done! You are all longing to go back to Paris, to resume your habits and pleasures:—well, I shall keep you under arms till you are eighty."
On reaching France, and especially Paris, Napoleon thought the atmosphere felt charged with resistance and disobedience. There was more freedom of speech, and men's thoughts were more daring than their words. Those whom he distrusted now came nearer, and others had taken the liberty to criticise his intentions and his acts. Even in the Legislative Body, the arrangements of the code of criminal justice, recently submitted to the vote, had undergone a rather lively discussion. Fouché had the courage to raise the question of the succession to the throne, when speaking to the Empress Josephine herself about the necessity of a divorce. The most daring had ventured to anticipate the possibility of a fatal accident in the chances of war, some affirming that Murat aimed at the crown. The Arch-chancellor Cambacérès, who always showed prudence and ability in his relations with his former colleague, now his master, attempted in vain to calm the increasing irritation of his mind. His anger burst forth against Talleyrand during a sitting of the Ministerial Council. For several months previously a coldness and distrust had reigned between the emperor and this confidant of several of the gravest acts of his life—who was always self-possessed even when he seemed devoted, too clever ever to give himself up entirely, and invariably impassible in manner and feature. Napoleon poured forth his displeasure in a long speech, reminding Talleyrand of advice he had formerly given him, being carried away both by his passion and the desire to compromise and humiliate a man whose intrigues he was afraid of. At the conclusion of this noisy scene, still more humiliating for the emperor than for the minister, Talleyrand quietly withdrew, limping through the galleries, among the officers and courtiers, astonished at the noise which had reached even them, and looking at him with curiosity or spite. It was the starting-point of that secret animosity to which Talleyrand was afterwards to give cold and biting expression, when, in 1813, after a similar scene, he said, "You have a great man there, but badly brought up!" Napoleon's anger did not last long, although his distrust remained fixed. Talleyrand's pride underwent numerous eclipses. Commencing, however, from that day, the separation between them became irreparable; and when the emperor's decadence began, Talleyrand was already gained over to other hopes, and ready to serve another cause.
It was during the first moments of a growing discontent, already unmistakable in Paris and the large towns, that Napoleon found himself compelled to ask from France new efforts and cruel sacrifices. To make the old contingents equal to the new, he has already, they said, raised 80,000 men by the past conscriptions; the same expedient if soon applied to more remote years will bring to his standards grown-up men able to undergo long fatigue. The contingent of 1810 was at the same time raised to 110,000 men. In order to furnish officers to this enormous mass of conscripts, the emperor wrote on the 8th March, to General Clarke, minister of war: "I have formed sixteen cohorts of 10,000 conscripts of my guard. Present to me sixteen lists of four pupils in the St. Cyr Military College, to be appointed as sub-lieutenants in those cohorts; that will supply employment to sixty-four scholars. These youths will be under the orders of the officers of my guard, and will assist them in forming the conscripts, and fulfilling the duties of adjutant. They can also be of use in marching with detachments to the regiments where they will have their definitive appointment. Thus, with the 104 scholars necessary for the fifth battalions, the school must supply 168 pupils this year. Present to me 168 young people to replace those at St. Cyr.
"Let me know what can be supplied by La Flèche School, and the lycées. I have forty lycées; if each of them can furnish ten pupils of eighteen years old, that makes 400 quartermasters. I shall have to send 200 to the different regiments, and 200 to the army of the Rhine. Find also whether the Polytechnic School cannot supply fifty officers; and whether the Compiègne School cannot supply fifty youths of over seventeen, to be incorporated with the companies of artillery workmen."
As if to supply the troublesome gaps thus made in the schools by the unexpected removal of so many boys, Napoleon had written beforehand to Fouché from Benaventa (31st December, 1809):
"I am informed that some families of the emigrants are removing their children to avoid conscription, and keeping them in troublesome and culpable idleness. It is clear that the old and rich families who are not for our system are against it. I wish you to get a list drawn up of ten of those principal families in each department, and fifty for Paris, showing the age, fortune, and quality of each member. My intention is to pass a decree to send to the Military School of St. Cyr the young men belonging to those families whose ages are between sixteen and eighteen. If any objection is made, the only answer to make is, that it is my good pleasure. The future generation should not suffer from the hatred and petty spite of the present generation. If you have to ask the prefects for information, do so in similar terms."