The victories of Lutzen and Bautzen were so unexpected and so brilliant, that they completely dazzled all those who, reposing a superstitious confidence in Buonaparte's star, conceived that they again saw it reviving in all the splendour of its first rising. But the expressions of Augereau to FouchÉ, at Mentz,[262] as the latter passed to join Buonaparte at Dresden, show what was the sense of Napoleon's best officers. "Alas!" he said, "our sun has set. How little do the two actions of which they make so much at Paris, resemble our victories in Italy, when I taught Buonaparte the art of war, which he now abuses. How much labour has been thrown away only to win a few marches onward! At Lutzen our centre was broken, several regiments disbanded, and all was lost but for the Young Guard. We have taught the allies to beat us. After such a butchery as that of Bautzen, there were no results, no cannon taken, no prisoners made. The enemy every where opposed us with advantage, and we were roughly handled at Reichembach, the very day after the battle. Then one ball strikes off BessiÈres, another Duroc; Duroc, the only friend he had in the world. BruyÈres and Kirchenner are swept away by spent bullets. What a war! it will make an end of all of us. He will not make peace; you know him as well as I do; he will cause himself be surrounded by half a million of men, for, believe me, Austria will not be more faithful to him than Prussia. Yes, he will remain inflexible, and unless he be killed (as killed he will not be,) there is an end of all of us."[263]

It was, indeed, generally observed, that though the French troops had all their usual brilliancy of courage, and although their Emperor showed all his customary talent, the former effect of both upon the allies seemed in a great measure lost. The rapidity with which Buonaparte's soldiers made their attacks was now repelled with steadiness, or anticipated with yet superior alertness; so that the French, who, during their course of victory, had become so secure as to neglect the precautions of sentinels and patrols, now frequently suffered for their carelessness. On the other hand, the allies chose their days and hours of battle, continued the conflict as long as they found convenient, suspended it when it became unfavourable, and renewed it when they saw cause. There was an end to the times when a battle decided the fate of a campaign, and a campaign the course of the war.

It was also seen, that though Buonaparte had been able to renew the numbers of his army, by an unparalleled effort of exertion, it was not even in his power to restore the discipline which the old soldiers had lost in the horrors of the Russian retreat, and which the young levies had never acquired. The Saxons and Silesians felt that the burdens which the presence of an armed force always must inflict, were no longer mitigated by the species of discipline which the French soldiers had formerly exercised amongst themselves, and which secured against wanton outrage, and waste of the plunder which they seized. But now, it was an ordinary thing to see one body of soldiers treading down and destroying the provisions, for want of which the next battalion was perhaps starving. The courage and energy of the French soldier were the same, but the recollection of former distresses had made him more selfish and more wasteful, as well as more ferocious.

Those who saw matters under this disadvantageous light, went so far, though friends both to France and Napoleon, as to wish that neither the battle of Lutzen or Bautzen had been fought, since they became, in their consequences, the greatest obstacles to a settled pacification. Even Eugene Beauharnois used this despairing language. It is true, they allowed that these memorable conflicts had sustained, or even elevated, the Emperor's military character, and that there was some truth in the courtly speech of Narbonne, who, when Napoleon desired to know what the people at Vienna thought of these actions, replied, "Some think you an angel, Sire; some a devil; but all agree you are more than man."[264] But according to the sentiments of such persons, these encomiums on a point of the Emperor's character, which had before rendered him sufficiently feared, and sufficiently hated, were only calculated to elevate his mind above prudential considerations, and to render his chance of effecting a permanent reconciliation with other nations more difficult, if not altogether impossible. The maxim of Europe at present seemed to be—

A point was now reached, when Buonaparte's talents as a soldier were rather likely to disturb a negotiation, which an opinion of his moderate views in future, could such have been entertained on plausible grounds, would certainly have influenced favourably. This was particularly felt by Austria, who, after having received so many humiliations from Napoleon, seemed now to be called upon to decide on his destiny. The views of that power could not be mistaken. She desired to regain her lost provinces, and her influence in Germany, and unquestionably would use this propitious hour to obtain both. But then she desired still farther, for the preservation of her dominions, and of her influence, that France should desist from her dream of absolute dominion, and Napoleon from those extravagant claims of universal royalty, which he had hitherto broadly acted upon. To what purpose, was asked by the friends of peace, could it avail Buonaparte to maintain large armies in Germany? To what purpose keep possession of the fortified towns, even on the eastern frontier of that empire, excepting to show, that, whatever temporary advantage Napoleon might look for in an alliance with Austria, it was no part of his plan to abandon his conquests, or to sink from his claims of supreme dominion, into a co-ordinate prince among the independent sovereigns of Europe.

If he meant to prosecute the war, they urged, that his lingering in Saxony and Prussia would certainly induce Austria to join the coalition against him; and that, supposing Dresden to be the pivot of his operations, he would be exposed to be taken in flank by the immense armies of Austria descending upon the valley of the Elbe, from the passes of the Bohemian mountains.

Another, and a very opposite course of measures, would, said the same counsellors, be at once a guarantee to Austria of the French Emperor's peaceable intentions, and tend to check and intimidate the other allies. Let Napoleon evacuate of free will the blockaded fortresses upon the Oder and Elbe, and thereby add to his army 50,000 veteran troops. Let him, with these and his present army, fall back on the Rhine, so often acknowledged as the natural boundary of France. Who would dare to attack him on his own strong frontier, with such an army in front, and all the resources of France in his rear? Not Austria; for, if assured that Napoleon had abandoned his scheme to make France victorious, and limited his views to making her happy, that power would surely desire to maintain a dynasty connected with her own, on a throne which might become a protection and ornament to Europe, instead of being her scourge and terror. The northern nations, Russia, Prussia, and Sweden, would have no motive to undertake so wild a crusade as a march to the Rhine; and Great Britain, her commerce restored, and the peace of the continent established, could not, if she were desirous, find any sound reason for protracting the war, which she had always carried on against the system, not the person, of Buonaparte, until events showed that they were indivisible. Thus France, by assuming an attitude which expressed moderation as well as firmness, might cause the swords of the allies to fall from their hands without another drop of blood being shed.

Indeed, although it may appear, that by the course recommended Napoleon must have made great sacrifices, yet, as circumstances stood, he resigned claims dependent on the chance of war, rather than advantages in possession, and yielded up little or nothing that was firmly and effectually part of his empire. This will appear from a glance at the terms of the supposed surrender.

Spain he must have relinquished all claim to. But Napoleon had just received accounts of the decisive battle of Vittoria, which sealed the emancipation of the Peninsula; and he must have been aware, that in this long-contested point he would lose nothing of which the fate of war had not previously deprived him, and would obtain for the south-western provinces of France protection against the army of the Duke of Wellington, which already threatened invasion.

Germany was indeed partly in Napoleon's possession, as far as the occupation of fortresses, and such treaties as he had imposed on his vassal-princes, could give him influence. But the whole nation, in every city and province, was alienated from France and her ruler, on account of the paramount sovereignty which he had assumed, and the distresses which he had brought upon them by the unceasing demand of troops for distant expeditions, and by his continental system. Besides, the enfranchisement of Germany was the very question of war and peace; and that not being granted, Napoleon must have been well aware that he must fight out the battle with Russia, Prussia, and Sweden, the insurgent Germans ready to arise on every hand, and all the weighty force of Austria to back them. If peace was to be established on any terms, the destruction of the unnatural influence of France on the right side of the Rhine must have been an indispensable article; and it was better for Napoleon to make the cession voluntarily, than to wait, till, through the insurrection of the people, and the discontent of the monarchs lately his dependents, the whole system should explode and go to pieces of itself.

England would, doubtless, insist on the liberation of Holland; yet even this could be no great sacrifice on the part of Napoleon, who would have retained Flanders, and the whole left side of the Rhine, from Huningen to Cleves, including the finest territories of the ancient Dukes of Burgundy, which had never belonged to the former Kings of France. The emancipation of Holland might have been also compensated, by the restoration of some of the French colonies. England has never made hard bargains on the occasion of a general peace.

There might have been difficulties on the subject of Italy; but the near connexion betwixt the Emperors of Austria and France offered various means of accommodating these. Italy might, for example, have made an appanage for Eugene, or, in the case of such existing, for Buonaparte's second son, so as to insure the kingdoms of France and Italy passing into distinct and independent sovereignties in the next reign; or, it is believed, that if Austria had been absolutely determined to break off the treaty for this sole object, she would have found the belligerent powers inclined in their turn to act as mediators, and been herself compelled to listen to moderate terms.

From what has been said, it would appear that such cessions as have been hinted at, would at once have put an end to the war, leaving Napoleon still in possession of the fairest kingdom of Europe, augmented to an extent of territory greatly beyond what her most powerful monarchs before him had ever possessed; while, on the other hand, the countries and claims which, in the case supposed, he was called upon to resign, resembled the wounded mast in the tempest, which the seaman cuts away purposely, as endangering the vessel which it has ceased to assist. But it unfortunately happened, that Buonaparte, generally tenacious of his own opinion, and particularly when his reputation was concerned, imagined to himself that he could not cut away the mast without striking the colours which were nailed to it; that he could not resign his high pretensions, however unreasonable, without dimming his personal glory, in the lustre of which he placed his happiness.[266]

He would not, therefore, listen to those, who, with such arguments as we have above stated, pressed him to make a virtue of necessity, and assume a merit from giving up what he could not attempt to hold, without its being in all probability wrested from him. He persisted in maintaining the contrary, referred back to the various instances in which he had come off in triumph, when every other person had despaired of his safety, and had previously protested against the hazardous means which he used to ascertain it. This pertinacity did not arise solely out of the natural confidence in his own superiority, which always attends minds so powerful and so determined; it was fostered by the whole course of his life. "At the age of thirty," he said of himself, "I had gained victories—I had influenced the world—I had appeased a national tempest—had melted parties into one—had rallied a nation. I have, it must be allowed, been spoiled by success—I have always been in supreme command. From my first entrance into life I have enjoyed high power, and circumstances and my own force of character have been such, that from the instant I gained a superiority, I have recognised neither masters nor laws."[267]

To a confession so ingenuous, the historian can add nothing. It is no wonder, that one to whom luck had been uniformly favourable, should love the excitation of the play, and, making cast after cast in confidence of his own fortune, press the winning game until it became a losing one, instead of withdrawing from the table, as prudence would have dictated, when the stakes deepened, and the luck began to change. Napoleon had established in his own mind, as well as that of others, an opinion, that he, in his proper person, enjoyed an amnesty from the ordinary chances of fortune.[268] This was a belief most useful to him, as it was received by others, but dangerous in his own adoption of it, since it hindered him from listening in his own case to calculations, which in that of others he would have allowed to be well founded.

Both Talleyrand and FouchÉ gave their master the advantage of their experience on this occasion, and touched with less or more reserve upon the terror which his ambition had spread, and the determination of the allies, as well as Austria, not to make peace without such a guarantee as should protect them against future encroachments. Napoleon rejected their opinion and advice with disdain, imputing it to their doubts in the persevering exertions of his genius, or to an anxiety for their own private fortunes, which induced them to desire at all risks the end of the war.

His military counsellors endeavoured to enforce similar advice, with the same want of success. Berthier, with the assistance of the celebrated engineer, Rogniat, had drawn up a plan for removing the French army, reinforced with all the garrisons which they had in Germany, from the line of the Elbe to that of the Rhine.

"Good God!" exclaimed Buonaparte, as he glanced at the labours of his adjutant-general, "ten lost battles could not bring me so low as you would have me stoop, and that, too, when I command so many strong places on the Elbe and Oder. Dresden is the point on which I will manoeuvre to receive all attacks, while my enemies develope themselves like a line of circumference round a centre. Do you suppose it possible for troops of various nations, and variously commanded, to act with regularity upon such an extensive line of operations? The enemy cannot force me back on the Rhine, till they have gained ten battles; but allow me only one victory, and I will march on their capitals of Berlin and Breslau, relieve my garrisons on the Vistula and Oder, and force the allies to such a peace as shall leave my glory untarnished. Your defensive retreat does not suit me; besides, I do not ask you for plans, but for assistance to carry into execution my own projects."[269]

Thus Napoleon silenced his military as well as his civil counsellors. But there was one adviser whose mouth he had stopt, whose advice, if it could have reached him, would probably have altered his fatal resolution. One of Buonaparte's most impolitic as well as unjustifiable measures had been, his total destruction of every mode by which the public opinion of the people of France could be manifested. His system of despotism, which had left no manner of expression whatever, either by public meetings, by means of the press, or through the representative bodies, by which the national sentiments on public affairs could be made known, became now a serious evil. The manifestation of public opinion was miserably supplied by the voices of hired functionaries, who, like artificial fountains, merely returned back with various flourishes the sentiments with which they had been supplied from the common reservoir at Paris. Had free agents of any kind been permitted to report upon the state of the public mind, Napoleon would have had before him a picture which would have quickly summoned him back to France. He would have heard that the nation, blind to the evils of war, while dazzled with victory and military glory, had become acutely sensible of them so soon as these evils became associated with defeats, and the occasion of new draughts on the population of France. He would have learned that the fatal retreat of Moscow, and this precarious campaign of Saxony, had awakened parties and interests which had long been dormant—that the name of the Bourbons was again mentioned in the west—that 50,000 recusant conscripts were wandering through France, forming themselves into bands, and ready to join any standard which was raised against the imperial authority; and that, in the Legislative Body, as well as the Senate, there was already organised a tacit opposition to his government, that wanted but a moment of weakness to show itself.

All this, and more, he would have learned; and must have been taught the necessity of concentrating his forces, returning to the frontiers of France, recovering the allegiance of those who hesitated, by accepting the best terms of peace which he could extort from the allies, and assuming on the Rhine such a firm attitude of defence as should at once overawe domestic dissatisfaction, and repel foreign invasion. But the least spiracle, by which the voice of France could find its way to the ears of her sovereign, was effectually closed. The fate of Napoleon turned on this circumstance; for the sovereign who deprives himself of the means of collecting the general sense of the nation over which he rules, is like the householder who destroys his faithful mastiff. Both may, perhaps, alarm their master by baying without just cause, or at an inconvenient time; but when the hour of action comes, no other sentinel can supply the want of their vigilance.

The armistice now afforded an apt occasion for arranging a general peace, or rather (for that was the real purpose) for giving Austria an opportunity of declaring what were her real and definitive intentions in this unexpected crisis, which had rendered her to a great degree arbitress of the fate of Europe. Napoleon, from his first arrival in Saxony, had adopted a belief, that although Austria was likely to use the present crisis as an opportunity of compelling him to restore the Illyrian provinces, and perhaps other territories of which former wars had deprived her, yet that in the end, the family connexion, with the awe entertained for his talents, would prevail to hinder her cabinet from uniting their cause to that of the allies. An expression had dropt from the Austrian minister Metternich, which would have altered this belief, had it been reported to him.

Maret, Duke of Bassano, had pressed the Austrian hard on the ties arising from the marriage, when the Austrian answered emphatically, "The marriage—yes, the marriage—it was a match founded on political considerations; but"——

This single brief word disclosed as much as does the least key when it opens the strongest cabinet—it made it clear that the connexion formed by the marriage would not prevent Austria from taking the line in the present dispute which general policy demanded. And this was soon seen when Count Metternich came to Dresden to have an audience of Napoleon.

This celebrated statesman and accomplished courtier had been very acceptable at the Tuileries, and Napoleon seems to have imagined him one of those persons whose gaiety and good-humour were combined with a flexible character, liable to be mastered and guided by one of power and energy like his own. This was a great mistake. Metternich, a man of liveliness and address when in society, was firm and decisive in business. He saw that the opportunity of controlling the absolute power of France and of Buonaparte had at length arrived, and was determined, so far as Austria was concerned, and under his administration, that no partial views or advantages should prevent its being effectually employed. His interview with Napoleon took place at Dresden on the 28th June, and the following particulars are accredited:—

Napoleon always piqued himself on a plain, down-right style of negotiation, or rather upon his system of at once announcing the only terms on which he would consent to negotiate. He would hear of no counter-project, and admit of no medium betwixt the resumption of hostilities, and acceptance of peace upon the terms which it suited him to dictate. This frank and unanswerable mode of treating greatly tended to abridge the formalities of diplomacy; it had but this single disadvantage, that it was only suitable for the lips of a victor, whose renewal of war was to be, in all human probability, the resuming a career of victory. Such a tone of negotiation became the Roman PrÆtor, when he environed with a circle the feeble Eastern monarch, and insisted on a categorical answer to the terms he had proposed, ere he should step beyond the line; and perhaps it became Napoleon, when, at Campo Formio, he threw down the piece of porcelain, declaring that the Austrian empire should be destroyed in the same manner, unless they instantly accepted his conditions. But the same abrupt dictatorial manner was less felicitously employed, when the question was to persuade Austria not to throw her force of 200,000 men into the scale of the allies, which already too equally balanced that of France; yet that ill-chosen tone may be observed in the following conference.

Napoleon upbraided Metternich with having favoured his adversaries, by being so tardy in opening the negotiation. He intimated that the Austrian minister perhaps staid away, in order that France might be reduced to a lower state than at the opening of the campaign; while now that he had gained two battles, Austria thrust in her mediation, that he might be prevented from following up his success. In claiming to be a negotiator, Austria, he said, was neither his friend nor his impartial judge—she was his enemy. "You were about to declare yourself," he said, "when the victory at Lutzen rendered it prudent in the first place to collect more forces. Now you have assembled behind the screen of the Bohemian mountains 200,000 men under Schwartzenberg's command. Ah, Metternich! I guess the purpose of your Cabinet. You wish to profit by my embarrassments, and seize on the favourable moment to regain as much as you can of what I have taken from you. The only question with you is, whether you will make most by allowing me to ransom myself, or by going to war with me?—You are uncertain on that point; and perhaps you only come here to ascertain which is your best course. Well, let us drive a bargain—how much is it you want?"

To this insulting commencement Metternich replied, that "the only advantage desired by his master, was to see that moderation and respect for the rights of nations which filled his own bosom, restored to the general councils of Europe, and such a well-balanced system introduced as should place the universal tranquillity under the guarantee of an association of independent states."

It was easy to see which way this pointed, and to anticipate the conclusion. Napoleon affected to treat it as a figure of speech, which was to cloak the private views of Austria. "I speak clearly," he said, "and come to the point. Will it suit you to accept of Illyria, and to remain neuter?—Your neutrality is all I require. I can deal with the Russians and Prussians with my own army."—"Ah, Sire," replied Metternich, "it depends solely on your Majesty to unite all our forces with yours. But the truth must be told. Matters are come to that extremity that Austria cannot remain neutral—We must be with you, or against you."[270]

After this explicit declaration, from which it was to be inferred that Austria would not lay aside her arms, unless Buonaparte would comply with the terms which she had fixed upon as the conditions of a general pacification, and that she was determined to refuse all that might be offered as a bribe for her neutrality, the Emperor of France and the Austrian statesman retired into a cabinet, apart from the secretaries, where it is to be presumed Metternich communicated more specifically the conditions which Austria had to propose. Napoleon's voice was presently heard exclaiming aloud, "What! not only Illyria, but half of Italy, the restoration of the Pope, and the abandoning of Poland, and the resignation of Spain, and Holland, and the confederation of the Rhine, and Switzerland! Is this your moderation? You hawk about your alliance from the one camp to the other, where the greatest partition of territory is to be obtained, and then you talk of the independence of nations! In plain truth, you would have Italy; Sweden demands Norway; Prussia requires Saxony; England would have Holland and Belgium—You would dismember the French empire; and all these changes to be operated by Austria's mere threat of going to war. Can you pretend to win, by a single stroke of the pen, so many of the strongest fortresses in Europe, the keys of which I have gained by battles and victories? And think you that I will be so docile as to march back my soldiers, with their arms reversed, over the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees, and by subscribing a treaty, which is one vast capitulation, deliver myself, like a fool, into the hands of my enemies, and trust for a doubtful permission to exist, to their generosity? Is it when my army is triumphing at the gates of Berlin and Breslau, that Austria hopes to extort such a cession from me, without striking a blow or drawing a sword? It is an affront to expect it. And is it my father-in-law who entertains such a project? Is it he who sends you to me? In what attitude would he place me before the eyes of the French people! He is in a strange mistake if he supposes that a mutilated throne can, in France, afford shelter to his daughter and his grandson——Ah, Metternich," he concluded, "what has England given you to induce you to make war on me?"

The Austrian minister, disdaining to defend himself against so coarse an accusation, only replied by a look of scorn and resentment. A profound silence followed, during which Napoleon and Metternich traversed the apartment with long steps, without looking at each other. Napoleon dropt his hat, perhaps to give a turn to this awkward situation. But Metternich was too deeply affronted for any office of courtesy, and the Emperor was obliged to lift it himself. Buonaparte then resumed the discourse, in a more temperate strain, and said he did not yet despair of peace. He insisted that the congress should be assembled, and that, even if hostilities should recommence, negotiations for peace should, nevertheless, not be discontinued. And, like a wary trader, when driving a bargain, he whispered Metternich, that his offer of Illyria was not his last word.[271]

His last word, however, had been in reality spoken, and both he and Metternich were fully acquainted with each other's views. Metternich had refused all private conditions which could be offered to detach Austria from the general cause, and Buonaparte had rejected as an insult any terms which went to lower him to a rank of equality with the other sovereigns of Europe. He would be CÆsar or nothing. It did not mend the prospect of negotiation, that he had formally insulted one of the persons most influential in the Austrian councils. The chance of peace seemed farther off than ever.

Accordingly, all the proceedings at the Congress of Prague were lingering and evasive. The meeting had been fixed for the 5th July, and the dissolution was postponed till the 10th August, in order to allow time for trying to adjust the disputed claims. England had declined being concerned with the armistice, alleging she was satisfied that Napoleon would come to no reasonable terms. Caulaincourt, to whom Buonaparte chiefly trusted the negotiation, did not appear till 25th July, detained, it was idly alleged, by his services as an officer of the palace. Austria spun out the time by proposing that the other commissioners should hold no direct intercourse, but only negotiate through the medium of the mediator. Other disputes arose; and, in fact, it seems as if all parties manoeuvred to gain time, with a view to forward military preparations, rather than to avail themselves of the brief space allowed for adjusting the articles of peace. At length, so late as the 7th August, Austria produced her plan of pacification, of which the bases were the following:—I. The dissolution of the grand duchy of Warsaw, which was to be divided between Russia, Prussia, and Austria. II. The re-establishment of the Hanseatic towns in their former independence. III. The reconstruction of Prussia, assigning to that kingdom a frontier on the Elbe. IV. The cession to Austria of the maritime town of Trieste, with the Illyrian provinces. The emancipation of Spain and Holland, as matters in which England, no party to the Congress, took chief interest, was not stirred for the present, but reserved for consideration at the general peace. A concluding article stipulated that the condition of the European powers, great and small, as might be settled at the peace, should be guaranteed to all and each of them, and not innovated upon except by general consent.

Buonaparte in return offered much, but most of his cessions were clogged with conditions, which at once showed how unwillingly they were made, and seemed in most cases, to provide the means of annulling them when times should be favourable.

I. The grand duchy of Warsaw Napoleon agreed to yield up, but stipulated that Dantzic, with its fortifications demolished, should remain a free town, and that Saxony should be indemnified for the cession of the duchy, at the expense of Prussia and Austria. II. The cession of the Illyrian provinces was agreed to, but the seaport of Trieste was reserved. III. Contained a stipulation that the German confederation should extend to the Oder. Lastly, the territory of Denmark was to be guaranteed.

Before this tardy agreement to grant some of the terms which the allies had demanded, could arrive at Prague, the 10th of August, the day which concluded the armistice, had expired, and Austria had passed from the friendship of France into the federation of the allies. On the night betwixt the 10th and 11th, rockets of a new and brilliant kind flickered in the air from height to height, betwixt Prague and Trachenberg, the headquarters of the Emperor of Russia and King of Prussia, to announce to these sovereigns that the armistice was broken off.

Metternich and Caulaincourt still continued their negotiations; and Napoleon seemed on a sudden sincerely desirous of the peace about which he had hitherto trifled. Metternich persisted in his demand of Trieste and the Hanse towns. He rejected the extension of the Confederation of the Rhine, as a demand made at a time so ill-chosen as to be nearly ridiculous; and he required that the independence of Germany should be declared free, as well as that of Switzerland.

Buonaparte at length consented to all these demands, which, if they had been admitted during his interview with Metternich, on 28th June, or declared to the Congress before the 10th August, must have availed to secure peace. It is probable, either that Napoleon was unwilling to make his mind up to consent to terms which he thought humiliating, or that he made the concessions at a time when they would not, in all likelihood, be accepted, in order that he might obtain the chance of war, yet preserve with his subjects the credit of having been willing to make peace.

It has been said, with much plausibility, that the allies, on their part, were confirmed in their resolution to demand high terms, by the news of the decisive battle of Vittoria, and the probability, that, in consequence, the Duke of Wellington's army might be soon employed in the invasion of France. Napoleon entertained the same impression, and sent Soult, the ablest of his generals to make a stand, if possible, against the victorious English general and protect at least the territory of France itself.[272]