whence, although entirely cut off from his
base in Spain, he was able to dictate his own terms of surrender. He
and all his troops had a free return by sea to France, but Portugal
was to be evacuated.

Napoleon was at St. Cloud, near Paris, when the news of this disaster
arrived. To some extent he was already aware of the situation. He knew
that the Spaniards would not keep any stipulations they made,
claiming that no faith was due to a hostile army which had entered
their country under the guise of allies--an army, moreover, which
stole the sacred vessels from the sanctuaries of their churches, and
would not keep its promise to restore them. The letters of Joseph, who
was now utterly disenchanted, had for some time been but one string of
bitter complaints. He had asked the Emperor whether an end could not
be made to the organized pillage of the churches, and had told him
that the movement in Spain was as irrepressible as that of the French
Revolution, emphasizing his hopelessness by the suggestion that if
France had raised a million soldiers, Spain could probably raise at
least half as many. He said, too, that men talked openly of
assassinating him; that he had no friends but the scoundrels, the
honest men and patriots being on the other side. "My generals," was
the Emperor's comment on this querulousness, "are a parcel of
post-inspectors; the Ebro is nothing but a line; we must resume the
offensive at Tudela." "I have a spot there," he said, pointing with
his finger at his uniform. To calm his brother's fears, he replied
that the whole Spanish matter had been arranged long before with
Russia; that Europe recognized the change as an accomplished fact; and
that the priests and monks were at the bottom of all the trouble,
stirring up sedition, and acting for the greedy Inquisition. "There is
no question of death, but of life and victory; you shall have both....
I may find in Spain the Pillars of Hercules, but not the limits of my
power." True to his old principles, Napoleon refused to "call off the
thieves," as Joseph besought him, and declared that, according to the
laws of war, when a town was captured under arms pillage was
justifiable.

These were all brave words, but the Emperor was in the last stage of
exasperation. The letters he wrote at the time betray something of the
unutterable pain he felt. No one but himself could really know the
difference to him: his glory was smirched, his Oriental plans and his
sche