In his fifteenth year Victor entered the army as a private soldier; and a private soldier he would probably have remained, had not the revolution opened to all men the way to honours. His promotion was rapid: his good conduct at Toulon procured him the rank of general of brigade; and at Favorita and St. George he won the higher grade of division.

From the breaking out of the revolution to the battle of Friedland, he had been almost constantly in the field, and his gallantry in that great action procured him at last his marshal's baton.

On the peace of Tilsit, Victor was appointed Governor of Berlin; but he had only passed fifteen months in the Prussian capital, when he received orders to march into Spain, where lie remained from 1808 to 1812. He distinguished himself at Espinosa, Somo-Sierra, &c. by his bravery, and soon afterwards in a far different manner. He had just defeated the Spanish General Vanegas, who commanded the advanced guard of the Duke del Infantado, and the victory was so bloodless -- the Spanish troops exhibiting the most shameful cowardice -- that neither he nor his soldiers could have had any cause to be in a ferocious state of excitement. The prisoners taken in battle were, however, marched to Madrid and such as fell by the way from hunger and exhaustion were shot by their inhuman captors, Let the eloquent historian of the Peninsular war tell the rest of the dark story:

"Never, indeed, did any men heap upon themselves more guilt and infamy than those by whom this easy conquest was effected. The inhabitants of Ucles had taken no part in this action; from necessity they could only be passive spectators of the scene. But they had soon cause to lament that they had not rather immolated their wives and children with their own hands, like the Numantians of old, and then rushed upon the invaders to sweeten death with vengeance, instead of submitting to the mercy of such enemies. Plunder was the first object of the French, and in order to make the townspeople discover where their valuables were secreted, they tortured them. When they had thus obtained all the portable wealth of the place, they yoked the inhabitants like beasts, choosing especially the clergy for this outrage, loaded them with their own furniture, and made them carry it to the Castle Hill, and pile it in heaps, where they set fire to it, and consumed the whole. They then in mere wantonness murdered above threescore persons, dragging them to the shambles, that this butchery might be committed in its proper scene. Several women were among these sufferers, and they might be regarded as happy in being thus delivered from the worse horrors which ensued: for the French laid hands on the surviving women of the place, amounting to some three hundred:-- they tore the nun from the altar, the wife from her husband's corpse, the virgin front her mother's arms; and they abused these victims of the foulest brutality, till many of them expired on the spot. This was not all:-- but the further atrocities which these monsters perpetrated cannot even be hinted at without violating the decencies of language and the reverence due to humanity. These unutterable things were committed in open day, and the officers made not the slightest attempt at restraining the wretches under their command: they were employed in securing the best part of the plunder for themselves. The Spanish government published the details of this wickedness, in order that, if the criminals escaped earthly punishment, they might not escape perpetual infamy."*

* Southey. We are sorry our limits do not admit of our quoting a parallel passage of perhaps equal eloquence from the Annals of the Peninsular Campaigns, by the author of Cyril Thornton.

If the marshal who could tolerate these horrors had been successful against the Spaniards, he was soon to measure himself with far other antagonists. Soult had invaded Portugal; but finding the country quite as hostile as it had been during the first invasion of Junot, and that Sir Arthur Wellesley had disembarked at Lisbon to open the second campaign, he was forced to retreat. Victor was ordered to support the Duke of Dalmatia, but he had scarcely set foot on the Portuguese territory, when he perceived the necessity of retreating also. He effected, however, a junction with Joseph Buonaparte and General Sebastiani, and resolved to attack Sir Arthur, who was advancing into Spain in pursuit of Soult. The two armies met in front of Talavera, and a sanguinary combat ensued. Victor was completely routed, with the loss of about 10,000 men. Yet he did not retreat far. Having effected a junction with another marshal, and perceiving that he was not pressed by Sir Arthur, who indeed had retreated in his turn before the alarming numbers of the enemy under Soult, Mortier, and Ney, he retraced his steps, and took possession of Talavera -- and here we readily record an instance of humanity on his part, which would have honoured the most high-minded British general, and which makes us regret the more that he should have sullied himself so fearfully at Ucles. When he entered the town, he found some of the wounded, French and English alike, lying on the ground in the Plaza. He spoke kindly to the latter, complimented them on their observance of the courtesies of war, but said there was one thing they did not understand, -- how to deal with the Spaniards. "He then sent soldiers to every house, with orders to the inhabitants immediately to receive and accommodate the wounded of the two nations, who were lodged together, one Englishman and one Frenchman; and he expressly directed that the Englishman should always be served first. Many had died in the square, and the stones were covered with blood: Victor ordered the townsmen to come with spades and besoms, to remove and bury the dead, and cleanse the Plaza: he was speedily obeyed, and then the French said the place was fit for them to walk in. This was done a few hours after they entered the town."*

* Southey's Peninsular War, vol. iv. p. 49.

After an unsuccessful though tedious siege of Cadiz, the marshal, whom the emperor had now created Duke of Belluno, was summoned to the Russian campaign.

At the Berezina, Dresden, Leipzic, and Hanau, Victor fought nobly; and he bore his part equally well in the obstinate attempt to defend the French territory in 1814. After incredible efforts at Nangis and Villeneuve (Feb. 17), and seeing his son-in-law killed before his eyes, he took a few hours' rest at Salins. This incensed his unreasonable master, who had commanded him to pursue the allies to Montereau without intermission, -- to perform, in truth, an impossibility. The following morning (the 18th) the emperor most furiously reproached him, and even dismissed him from the service, telling him that his command was entrusted to another, and he might go about his business. This was a cutting return to so faithful a servant, -- to one, too, whose heart was smarting under a domestic calamity. The tears streamed down his sun-burnt cheeks, as he replied: "No, Sire, I will not leave the service! Victor was once a grenadier, and he has not forgotten to use the musket. I will take my place in the ranks with the soldiers of your Majesty's guard." The emperor was, as well he might be, affected with this proof of fidelity. He stretched out his hand to the marshal, and said: "I cannot return you your corps, since another commands it; but you are welcome to head two brigades of my guard." The veteran did so; and throughout the remaining portion of the campaign, fought as bravely as he had ever done.

After the first restoration, the Duke of Belluno was presented with the command of the second military division, and other honours. When Napoleon returned, he did all he could to retain his troops in their fidelity to the king; but being unable to succeed, he followed Louis to Ghent, where he remained until the second restoration. This fidelity to the royal cause was not unrewarded. He was made a French peer, major-general of the Royal Guard, knight of the Holy Ghost, and, in 1821, minister at war. At a subsequent period he went as ambassador to Vienna: and indeed Charles X, from his accession till now, appears to have reposed as much confidence in him as his brother Louis had done.