At Astorga a courier arrived, bringing despatches from Paris which warned Napoleon that Austria was ready now “to begin again.” She had completely reorganized her army, had patiently waited for the right moment, and was sure that it had come. The veteran troops of France were scattered over the Spanish peninsula; England had made good her grip on Portugal; Austria had about five hundred thousand soldiers ready, and now was the time to strike. The pursuit of the English was turned over to Soult, and the race for the seacoast continued as before. When the French could overtake the English at all, it was with an advance guard too small to crush the English rear-guard. If there was a clash, the French were repulsed. If the French came up in force, the English continued the retreat. At last the coast was made. There was a bloody fight, the battle of Corunna. Sir John Moore was killed, but his army, or what remained of it, got on board the English ships and sailed away. As to Napoleon, he returned to Valladolid, where he busied himself for several days regulating the affairs of Spain, and in sending off innumerable despatches. Then springing upon his horse, he spurred away for Bayonne, in perhaps the wildest ride an emperor ever made. His escort clattered after him, strung out behind, and the wondering peasants of Spain long remembered that meteoric vision. They heard in the distance a faint noise as of frantic racing; there burst into view a breathless cavalcade; it came on like a wind-driven cloud; there was a rush, and a noise like thunder, a fleeting glimpse of bent riders and straining steeds; there was, perhaps, a shout in passing; then it went as it came, and in a moment it was gone. General Thiébault, on his way to Vittoria, was in the road, with carriage, aides, escort, and servants, when one of his attendants said, “Here comes the Emperor, I think.” The General was about to alight from the carriage when he heard some one call:-- “Who is in that carriage?” The servant hardly had time to answer “General Thiébault” before the imperial party tore by. “Savary was first, after him the Emperor, lashing Savary’s horse, and digging the spurs into his own.... A good minute afterward Duroc and the Emperor’s Mameluke galloped by, and at a like distance from them came a guide, exhausted with his efforts to make up lost ground, and four more brought up the rear as best they could.” From Valladolid to Burgos, some seventy-five miles, Napoleon rode in three hours and a half (January, 1809). CHAPTER XXXIII