Passing between Rome and Florence, we crossed the Tiber one morning, and wound for some distance up as beautiful a valley as the sun ever smiled upon. It is apparently not over a mile wide, and lies deep down among the hills that rise in parallel ridges on either side. It was a bright May morning in which we trotted through it, and as we rose one of the ridges to pass down on the other side, and away from the Tiber, we stopped to survey the enchanting prospect. The green meadows went gently up to the sparkling Tiber that here was dwindled to a mere brook, and kept winding and turning as if it loved and strove to linger in the lovely landscape, while over all bent the blue sky of Italy, and swept the sweet breeze that seemed born amid vineyards and gardens. To this delicious spot, the artists of Rome flock in midsummer to escape the heat and malaria of the Eternal City, and dream away the hours amid its cool shades and healthful breezes. Turning to our guidebook, as we sat on the hill side and looked down on this charming valley, we saw it stated that up its narrow enclosures, Macdonald, with an army of twenty thousand men, cut his way through the enemy though they outnumbered him two to one, in his retreat from Naples to Tuscany, whither he had been ordered to form a junction with Moreau. We confess that we had no definite idea of this Macdonald, except that he was a general in the French army. Being linked by association in our memory with that sweet valley, we afterwards took pains to trace out his history through the progress of the French revolution, and the French empire, to Bonaparte's overthrow, and we found him one of the most remarkable men that lived in that remarkable time. He did two things, at least, which, of their kind, we believe were never surpassed. We refer to his awful charge at Wagram, and his desperate passage of the Splugen in midwinter.

It is astonishing to see what resolute and iron men Bonaparte gathered around him. Every thing that came near him seemed to run in his mould, or rather, perhaps he would confide in no one who did not partake more or less of his character. Some as much unlike him as men could well be, and worthy of no regard,

he had around him because he could use them, but to none such did he trust his armies or commit the fate of a battle. Those whom he trusted with his fate and fortunes, he knew by stern experience to be men that never flinched in the hour of peril, and were earth-fast rocks amid the tumult of a battle-field. He tried every man before he committed the success of his great plans to him. Rank and fortune bought no places of trust from him. He promoted his officers on the field of the slain, and made his marshals amid the dead that cumbered the ground on which they had proved themselves heroes by great deeds. When Bonaparte rode over one of his bloody, yet victorious battle fields, as was ever his custom the morning after the conflict, he saw from the spots on which the dead lay piled in largest heaps, where the heat and crisis of the battle had been. From his observatory he had watched the whole progress of the strife, and when next morning he rode over the plain, it was not difficult to tell what column had fought bravest, or what leader had proved himself worthiest of confidence, and on the spot where they earned their reward he gave it, and made the place where they struggled bravest and suffered most, the birth-place of their renown. This custom of his furnished the greatest of all incitements to desperate valor in battle. Every officer knew that the glass of his emperor swept the field where he fought, and the quick eye that glanced like lightning over every object was constantly on him, and as his deeds were, so would his honors be. This strung the energies of every ambitious man-and Bonaparte would have none others to lead his battalions-to their utmost tension. What wonder is it, then, that great deeds were wrought, and Europe stood awe-struck before enemies that seemed never to dream of defeat?

Macdonald was one of those stern men Bonaparte loved to have in his army. He knew what Macdonald attempted to do he would never relinquish till he himself fell, or his men fled. There was as much iron and steel in this bold Scotchman, as in Bonaparte himself. He had all his tenacity and invincibility without having his genius.

Macdonald was the son of a Scotch

man, of the family of Clanronald, who fought under the standard of Prince Charles Edward, on the fatal field of Culloden, and after its disastrous issue, fled to France, and settled in Sancerre. There the subject of our sketch was born, in November, 1765, and received the name of Etienne Jacques Joseph Alexandre Macdonald. He belonged to the army before the revolution, and during its progress took the republican side. He was an aide-camp in the first Republican army that advanced on the Rhine at the declaration of war, and distinguished himself throughout that miserably conducted campaign. At the battle of Jemappé, he fought with such bravery that he was promoted to the rank of colonel. Engaged in almost every battle in the low countries, he was appointed to lead the van of the army at the North,and in the winter campaign of 1794, performed one of those deeds of daring for which he was afterwards so distinguished. The batteries of Nimeguen swept the river Waal, so that it was deemed impossible to cross it with any considerable force, yet Macdonald led his column over the smooth ice and through the storm of lead that devoured his ranks, and routed the enemy. For this gallant deed he was made general of brigade. In 1796, at Cologne and Dusseldorf, he commanded the army, and soon after was sent by the Convention into Italy.

After the conquest of the Papal states in 1798, he was made governor of Rome. In his new capacity, he exhibited other talents than those of a military leader. He could scarcely have been placed in a more trying position than the one he occupied as governor of the Eternal City. The two factions, one of which acted with the revolution, and the other against it, kept the population in a perpetual ferment. Insurrections and popular outbreaks occurred almost every day, while the indignity that had been offered the Pope, and the indiscriminate pillage of the Vatican, palaces, and churches, exasperated the upper classes beyond control, and it required a strong arm to maintain French authority in the city. Macdonald did as well, perhaps, as any one could have done in his circumstances. An insurrection having broken out at Frosinone, which he found himself unable to quell, except with the destruction of a large number of his own men, he order ed the houses to be fired and the insurgents massacred. Mack, at length drove

him from the city, but being in turn compelled to evacuate it, Macdonald re-entered, and finally left it to conquer Naples. The entrance of the French into that city was over mountains of corpses, for the inhabitants of every class down to the miserable lazzaroni fought with the desperation of madmen for their homes. And even after the army had entered within the walls, it could advance only by blowing up the houses, and finally conquered by obtaining, through the treachery of a Neapolitan, the castle of St. Elmo, from whence they could bring their artillery to bear on the town below. The famous Parthenopeian republic was immediately established, and Macdonald entrusted with the supreme command. Mack, who had charge of the army opposed to the French, was an inefficient man. His forces outnumbered those of the French three to one, but he lacked the nerve to contend with Bonaparte's generals. When Nelson heard of his appointment as Commander-in-chief of the forces in the south of Italy, he remarked, "Mack cannot travel without five carriages. I have formed my opinion of him.”

That was the great difficulty with many of the Continental generals--they could not submit to the hardships and exposures and constant toil that such men as Ney and Macdonald and Napoleon cheerfully encountered. The latter upset all the rules of ordinary warfare by his des perate winter campaigns; and by his forced marches and rapid locomotion showed for the first time how much the human frame could endure, and the human will execute. But another man soon led his armies into southern Italy. The invincible Suwarrow who had never yet turned his back on a human foe began to sweep down through the peninsula. Macdonald could not contend with the superior force now brought against him, and commenced that masterly retreat toward Tuscany, to which we have referred, and which tested his skill as a general more than any other act of his life. To a watchfulness that never slept, and a spirit that never tired, he added exertion that overcame the most insurmountable difficulties, and baffled the plans of all his enemies. All of Bonaparte's generals were distinguished for their wonderful tenacity, and Macdonald, with the exception perhaps of Ney, more than all the rest. He seemed to be unconscious of fatigue, and never for a mo

ment indulged in that lassitude which is so epidemic in an army, and so often ensures its destruction. We cannot put our finger on the spot in the man's life where he acted as if he felt discouraged or ready to abandon every thing in despair. He seemed to lack enthusiasm, but had in its place a dogged resolution that was still more resistless. He quietly saw what was to be done, and then commenced doing it in the best possible manner, without the thought of failing in his designs. He was conscious of the mighty force of will, and knew by experience how difficulties vanished by pushing against them.

In the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, which overthrew the Directory and made Bonaparte First Consul, Macdonald was by his side, and with Murat, Lefebre, Marmont, Lannes and others, passed the power of France over into his hands.

For the service he rendered on this occasion Napoleon appointed him to the command of the army in the Grisons. A letter from him to General Regnier, then with the army in Egypt, shows his exalted views of Napoleon. In an extract he says, "Since you left, we have been compelled to lament over the capriciousness of fortune, and have been defeated every where owing to the impotence of the old tyrannical Directory. At last Bonaparte appeared-upset the audacious government, and seizing the reins, now directs with a steady hand the car of the revolution to that goal all good men have long waited to see it reach. Undismayed by the burden laid upon him this wonderful man reforms the armies calls back the proscribed citizens -flings open the prison in which innocence has pined-abolishes the old revolutionary laws-restores public confidence-protects industry-revives commerce, and making the Republic triumphant by his arms, places it in that high rank assigned it by Heaven."

In 1802 he was sent as ambassador to Copenhagen, where he remained a year. On his return he was appointed Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor. But soon after he incurred the displeasure of Bonaparte by his severe condemnation of the trial and sentence of Moreau. Macdonald had fought beside the hero of Hohenlinden. They had planned and counseled together, and he felt keenly the wrong and disgrace inflicted on his old companion in arms. Fearless in court as he was in battle, he never condescended to

flatter, nor refrained from expressing his indignation against meanness and injustice. His words which were uttered without disguise, and couched in the plain, blunt terms of a soldier, were repeated to Napoleon, who afterwards treated him with marked coldness. Too proud to go where he was not received as became his rank, and equally disdaining to make any efforts to produce a reconciliation when he had told the simple truth, he kept away from court altogether.

Bonaparte seemed to have forgotten him and let him remain inactive while Europe was resounding with the heroic deeds of the Generals that were leading his victorious armies over the Continent. Macdonald felt this keenly. He who had fought so manfully the bloody battle of the Trebbia, performed such prodigies of valor in Italy, and finally, to the astonishment of the world, led his army in mid-winter over the awful pass of the Splugen amid hurricanes of snow and falling avalanches, did not deserve this neglect from one whom he had served so faithfully, and in whose hands he had helped place the supreme power of France. Bonaparte in his towering and unjust pride allowed a single expression, strictÎy true, and springing from the very excellences of that character which made him the prop of his throne, to outweigh the years of service he had rendered and the glorious victories he had brought to his standard. Shame on his injustice to this old soldier who had never deserted him. Bonaparte's conduct in this matter is convincing proof to us that he was conscious of having acted the part of a villain in the trial and condemnation of Moreau.

The campaign of Austerlitz with its "Sun" of glory-Jena and its victories

Eylau and its awful carnage and doubtful issue-Friedland with its deeds of renown and richly bestowed honors, passed by and left Macdonald unnoticed and uncalled for. Thus years of glory rolled away. But in 1807, Bonaparte, who either thought that he had sufficiently punished him, or felt that he could dispense no longer with his powerful aid, gave him command of a corps under Eugene Beauharnois. He advanced into Styria, fought and captured the Austrian General, Meerfeldt-helped to gain the victory of Raab, and soon afterwards saved Napoleon and the Empire at Wagram by one of the most desperate charges recorded in the annals of man. Created

Marshal on the field of battle he was next appointed to the government of Gratz, where he exhibited the nobler qualities of justice and mercy. The bold denouncer of injustice in his Emperor was not likely to commit it himself. By the severe discipline he maintained among the troops, preventing them from violating the homes and property of the inhabitants; and by the equity and moderation with which he administered the government entrusted to him, he so gained the love and respect of the people that on his departure they made him a present of 100,000 francs, or nearly $20,000, and a costly box of jewels, as a wedding gift for one of his daughters. But he refused them both, replying, "gentlemen, if you consider yourselves under any obligation to me, repay it by taking care of the three hundred sick soldiers I am compelled to leave with you."

Macdonald was a noble man in every feature of his character. No ferocity marked his battles-no indiscriminate slaughter made in moments of excitement stained any part of his career.

Not long after he was made Duke of Tarentum, and in 1810 was appointed to command the army of Augereau in Catalonia, who had been recalled in disgrace. In 1812 he commanded the tenth corps of the Grand Army in its victorious march into Russia, and was one of the surviving few who, after performing prodigies of valor, and patiently enduring unheard of sufferings, in that disastrous and awful retreat; struggled so nobly at Bautzen, and Lutzen and Leipsic to sustain the tottering throne of Napoleon. He never faltered in his attachment or refused his aid till Bonaparte's abdication and exile to Elba. He was strongly opposed to his mad attempts to relieve Paris, which ended in his immediate overthrow. He declared to Berthier that the Emperor should retire to Lens and there fall back on Augereau, and choosing out a field where he could make the best stand, give the enemy battle. "Then," he said "if Providence has decreed our final hour, we shall at least die with honor." Unwavering in his attachment to the last, when the allies had determined on the Emperor's abdication, he used every effort to obtain the most favorable terms for him and his family. This generous conduct, so unlike what Bonaparte might have expected from one whom he had treated so unjustly and meanly, affected him deeply. He saw him alone

at Fontainbleau, and in their private interview previous to his departure for Elba, acknowledged his indebtedness to Macdonald, expressed his high regard for his character, and regretted that he had not appreciated his great worth sooner. At parting he wished to give him some memorial of his esteem, and handing him a beautiful Turkish sabre, presented him by Ibrahim Bey when in Egypt, said, "It is only the present of a soldier to his comrade."

When the Bourbons re-ascended the throne Macdonald was made a Peer of France, and never after broke his oath of allegiance. Unlike Murat, and Ney, and Soult, and others of Napoleon's generals, he considered his solemn oath sacred, and though when sent to repel the invader his soldiers deserted him at the first cry of "Vive l' Empereur," he did not like Ney follow their example, but making his escape hastened to Paris to defend Louis. After the final overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo he was promoted from one post of honor to another till he was made governor of the 21st Military Division and Major General of the Royal Guard. He visited soon after Scotland, and hunting up his poor relatives, bestowed presents upon them, and finally, on the overthrow and abdication of Charles X. gave his allegiance to Louis Phillippe.

We have given this brief outline of his history at the commencement in order to speak more fully of the three great acts of his life. When commmanding the army in the Grisons, Macdonald was commanded by Napoleon to pass the Splugen with his forces in order to form the left wing of his army in Italy. This was in the Campaign of Italy, after Bonaparte's return from Egypt. Though no braver or bolder man than Macdonald ever lived, he felt that the execution of the First Consul's commands was well nigh impossible, and sent General Dumas to represent to him the hopelessness of such an undertaking. Bonaparte heard him through, and then with his usual recklessness of difficulties replied, "I will make no change in my dispositions. Return quickly and tell Macdonald that an army can always pass in every season where two men can place their feet." Like an obedient officer he immediately set about preparations for the herculean task before him.

..

The present pass over this mountain is a very different thing from the one which

Macdonald and his fifteen thousand men traversed. There is now a carriage way across, cut in sixteen zig-zags along the breast of the mountain. But the road he was compelled to go was a mere bridle path, going through the gorge of the Cardinel. To understand some of the difficulties that beset him and his army, imagine an awful defile leading up to the height of six thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea, while the raging of an Alpine storm and the mighty sweep of avalanches across it add tenfold horror to the wintry scene. First comes the deep dark defile called the Via Mala, made by the Rhine, here a mere rivulet, and overhung by mountains often three thousand feet high. Along the precipices that stoop over this mad torrent the path is cut in the solid rock, now hugging the mountain wall like a mere thread, and now shooting in a single arch over the gorge that sinks three hundred feet below. Strangely silent snow peaks pierce the heavens in every direction, while from the slender bridges that spring from precipice to precipice over the turbulent stream, the roar of the vexed waters can scarcely be heard. After leaving this defile the road passes through the valley of Schams, then winding up the pine-covered cliffs of La Raffla, strikes on to the bare face of the mountain, going sometimes at an angle of forty-five degrees, and finally reaches the naked summit, standing bleak and cold in the wintry heavens. This was the Splugen-pass Macdonald was comcommanded to lead his army of 15,000 men over in mid-winter.

It was on the 20th of November he commenced his preparations. A constant succession of snow storms had filled up the entire path so that a single man on foot would not have thought of making the attempt. But when Macdonald had made up his mind to do a thing, that was the end of all impossibilities. The cannon were dismounted and placed on sleds, to which oxen were attached-the ammunition divided about on the backs of mules, while every soldier had to carry, besides his usual arms, five packets of cartridges and five days provisions. The guides went in advance, and stuck down Long black poles to indicate the course of the path beneath, while behind them came the workmen clearing away the snow, and behind them still, the mounted dragoons with the most powerful horses of the army to beat down the

way.

The first company had advanced in this manner nearly half way to the summit, and were approaching the hos pice, when a low moaning was heard among the hills like the voice of the sea before a storm. The guides understood too well its meaning, and gazed on each other in alarm. The ominous sound grew louder every moment till suddenly the fierce Alpine blast swept in a cloud of snow over the breast of the mountain, and howled like an unchained demon through the gorge below. In an instant all was confusion, and blindness, and uncertainty. The very heavens were blotted out, and the frightened column stood and listened to the raving tempest that threatened to lift the rockrooted pines that shrieked above them from their places, and bring down the very Alps themselves. But suddenly another still more alarming sound was heard amid the storm--"an avalanche, an avalanche," shrieked the guides, and the next moment an awful white form came leaping down the mountain, and striking the column that was struggling along the path, passed straight through it into the gulf below, carrying thirty dragoons and their horses along with it in its wild plunge. The black form of a steed and its rider was seen for one moment suspended in mid-heavens, and the next disappeared among the ice and crags below. The head of the column immediately pushed on and reached the hospice in safety, while the rear, separated from it by the avalanche, and struck dumb by this sudden apparition crossing their path with such lightning like velocity, and bearing to such an awful death their brave comrades, refused to proceed, and turned back to the village of Splugen. For three days the storm raged amid the mountains, filling the heavens with snow and hurling avalanches into the path, till it became so filled up that the guides declared it would take fifteen days to open it again as to make it at all passable. But fifteen days Macdonald could not spare. Independent of the urgency of his commands there was no way to provision his army in these savage solitudes, and he must proceed. He ordered four of the strongest oxen that could be found to be led in advance by the best guides. Forty peasants followed behind, clearing away and beating down the snow, and two companies of sappers came after to give still greater consistency to the track, while on their heels