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