not abandon the Spanish cause till long after the Spaniards have abandoned us." "I mean to proceed," he wrote again, "bridle in hand; for if the bubble bursts and Madrid falls, we shall have to run for it."

MOORE

CHAPTER VII

THE RETREAT TO CORUNNA

OORE knew by this time that Madrid had fallen, but that did not alter his plans. When Napoleon realised that the daring Englishman was striking at his communications, it was certain he would arrest the southward march of his armies and turn his whole strength on the puny and audacious foe that had attempted such a stroke. But this wouldfor the moment at least-save the whole south of Spain, and give it time to prepare for defence. It would arrest—if it did not wreck-Napoleon's whole campaign.

Seldom has a commander attempted a more desperate task than that to which Moore now addressed himself. He had an army equal to his own in numbers on his front, another on his left might cut him off from the sea. Napoleon himself, with an overwhelming force, marching at speed from Madrid, would break in upon his right flank. Moore's problem was, by the nicest adjustment of time, to push on far enough to bring upon himself Napoleon's rush, and yet, by nimbleness and speed, to evade that

great soldier's stroke and pluck his own army from destruction. He pushed on, therefore, to strike Soult at Sahagun; and yet, treating the forward march as really a movement of retreat, prepared stores in his rear on the roads leading to the sea-coast.

The effect of Moore's audacious policy was exactly what he calculated. Napoleon learned of Moore's advance on December 21, and acted with lightning-like swiftness of decision. He wrote to Josephine on the 22nd, “I am starting this moment to out-manœuvre the English, who appear to have received their reinforcements, and wish to play the swaggerers." To Ney he said more seriously, "Moore is now the only general fit to contend with me. I shall advance against him in person." "The day wherein we succeed in seeing these English," he added, "will be a day of jubilee for the French army. . . . . . Ah! that they might be met with to the number of 80,000 or 100,000 men instead of 20,000, that English mothers might feel the horrors of war! All the evils, all the plagues which can afflict the human race come from London!"

Fifty thousand French troops, with the cavalry of the Guard, were on the evening of the 22nd at the foot of the Guadarama hills. The range is wild and rugged; its ravines were choked with snow, and slippery with ice. A tempest, edged with sleet and black with rain-clouds, was scuffling over the frozen hill summits. The French advance-guard was driven

back by the mountain tempests, and the movement of the whole army arrested. "Men and horses,"

says Marbot, "were hurled over precipices; the leading battalions had actually begun to retreat.”

But neither the deep snow nor the wild hills, nor the yet wilder tempest, could stay Napoleon's vehement purpose. He made his cavalry dismount, and the leading files to interlock their arms and press on in spite of snow and ice and blackness. Napoleon himself, with Lannes holding his arm on one side, and Duroc on the other, trudged with the leading files. The crest of the range was reached and crossed, though many men and animals died. On the 26th Napoleon had reached Tordesillas with the Guard and two divisions, having covered 100 miles in that tremendous march, and he wrote to Soult, "If the English pass to-day in their position they are lost." Still pushing furiously onward, he reached Valderas; but he was too late by exactly twelve hours! The English were across the Esla! So daringly had Moore held on to his position, so exactly had he calculated the speed and reach of Napoleon's stroke!

Moore had pressed on resolutely to attack Soult. He was slightly superior to the French in numbers, and believed he could shatter Soult's force and begin his retreat to the coast with the glory of having destroyed one of Napoleon's marshals almost in Napoleon's very presence. He proposed to make

a night-march to Carran, and there fall on Soult. At nine o'clock on the night of December 23 his troops were formed in two columns ready for the adventure. The track lay across a wide plain, thick with snow; a bitter tempest was blowing, yet the men were in the highest spirits. A great battle lay before them; and battle for the British soldier is a tonic. The right column had already fallen into quick step, when a dragoon came riding furiously up. He brought the news that Napoleon was in full march to cut off the British army. Moore arrested his impatient columns, and at dawn his divisions began to fall back.

Moore was now the pursued, not the pursuer. Soult was pressing eagerly on his rear, Napoleon thundering on his flank. On the 26th the Esla was crossed. It was a wild scene. Rain fell incessantly from the black skies; the river was rising; there was but a single clumsy boat, and an army had to cross, with all its baggage and followers. A ford was found, and infantry and artillery fought their way through the fast rising waters. Moore himself crossed by a bridge at another point, and before the long column was well over, the French cavalry were upon the hill and looking down on the scene.

The distance from Sahagun, the point at which Moore's retreat began, and Corunna, where he expected the British transports to be waiting for him, was, in a direct line, about 160 miles; the actual march