ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

ciety in the adjoining states has so long been menaced, would be the restoration of that line of princes which for so many centuries maintained the French nation in prosperity at home, and consideration and respect abroad. Such an event would alone have removed, and will at any time remove, all obstacles in the way of negotiation or peace. It would confirm to France the unmolested enjoyment of its ancient territory; and it would give, to all the other nations of Europe, in tranquillity and peace, that security which they are now compelled to seek by other means."

crowded around him with warm and heartfelt | abandonment by France of those gigantic schemes greetings. They thronged the streets through of ambition by which the very existence of sowhich he passed, strove to kiss his hand, and even to touch his horse, and with loud acclamation hailed him as the saviour of his country. Napoleon immediately ordered the arrest of Vidranges and Goualt. The former had escaped and joined the Allies. The latter was arrested, tried by a court-martial, and condemned to be shot. Napoleon, conscious of the peril he encountered from the royalist conspirators in every town, thought that he could not safely pardon so infamous an act of treason. The nobleman was left to his fate. At eleven o'clock at night he was led out to his execution. A large placard was suspended upon his breast upon which were inscribed, in conspicuous letters, the words, "Traitor to his country." He died firmly, protesting to the last his devotion to the Bourbons. This act of severe but apparently necessary justice, Lamartine has stigmatized as a selfish piece of vengeance."

Since the commencement of this brief campaign, Napoleon had performed the most brilliant achievements of his whole military career. It is the uncontradicted testimony of history, that feats so extraordinary had never before been recorded in military annals. The Allies were astounded and bewildered. Merely to gain time to bring up their enormous reserves they had proposed a truce, and now, to form a new plan, with which to plunge again upon their valiant foe, they held a council of war. The Kings of Russia and Prussia, and the Emperor of Austria were present, and a strong delegation of determined men from the court of St. James. Lord Castlereagh was the prominent representative of the British government. The Allies, while intimating that they had not determined upon the dethronement of Napoleon, still advanced resolutely to that re

sult.

[ocr errors]

66

General Pozzo di Borgo was sent by Alexander on an embassy to the British government. Count d'Artois, afterward Charles X., urged him to induce the Allies openly to avow their intentions to reinstate the Bourbons. "My lord," General Borgo replied, every thing has its time. Let us not perplex matters. To sovereigns you should not present complicated questions. It is with no small difficulty that they have been kept united in the grand object of overthrowing Bonaparte. As soon as that is done, and the imperial rule destroyed, the question of dynasty will present itself, and then your illustrious house will spontaneously occur to the thoughts of all."

Lord Castlereagh, in a speech in Parliament, on the 29th of June, 1814, said: "Every pacification would be incomplete, if you did not reestablish, on the throne of France, the ancient family of the Bourbons. Any peace with the man who had placed himself at the head of the French nation could have no other final result but to give Europe fresh subjects for alarms; it could be neither secure nor durable; nevertheless it was impossible to refuse to negotiate with him when invested with power, without doing violence to the opinion of Europe, and incurring the whole responsibility for the continuance of the war."

"Lord Castlereagh," says Alison, "in conformity with the declared purpose of British diplomacy, ever since the commencement of the These proud despots were indeed committing war, made no concealment of his opinions either a crime which was doing violence to the sense in or out of parliament, that the best security for of justice of every unbiased mind. They were the peace of Europe would be found in the res- ashamed to acknowledge their intentions. While toration of the dispossessed race of princes to forcing, by the aid of two million of bayonets, the French throne; and the ancient race, and upon a nation exhausted by compulsory wars, a the ancient territory,' was often referred to by detested king, they had the boldness to declare him, in private conversation, as offering the only that they had no intention to interfere with the combination which was likely to give lasting re-independence of France. When the indignant pose to the world." To mitigate the indignation people again drove the Bourbons beyond the of the world against this atrocious interference of the Allies with the rights of the French people to elect their own sovereign, Sir Archibald ventures to add, "but it was little his design, as it was that of the British cabinet, to advance these views as preliminary to any, even the most lasting accommodation."

When Napoleon was elected to the chair of the First Consul, by the almost unanimous suffrages of France, he made overtures to England for peace. Lord Grenville returned an answer both hostile and grossly insulting, in which he said, "The best and most natural pledge of the

Rhine, again the invading armies of combined despotisms, crushing the sons of France beneath their artillery-wheels, conducted the hated dynasty to the throne. And England, liberty-loving England, was compelled, by her Tory government, to engage in this iniquitous work. Louis XVIII., encircled by the sabres of Wellington's dragoons, marched defiantly into the Tuilerics. In the accomplishment of this crime Europe was, for a quarter of a century, deluged in blood, and shrouded in woe. And these conspirators against popular rights, instead of doing justice to the patriotism and the heroism of Na

poleon, who, for twenty years, nobly sustained | duced to conjectures. His generals were disthe independence of his country against the in- heartened; France was in dismay. cessant coalitions of the monarchs of Europe, have endeavored to consign his name to infamy. But the world has changed. The people have now a voice in the decisions of history. They will reverse-they have already reversed-the verdict of despotisms. In the warm hearts of the people of all lands the memory of Napoleon has found a congenial throne.

The Allies now decided to embarrass Napoleon, by dividing their immense host into two armies. Blucher, taking the command of one, marched rapidly across the country to the Marne, to descend on both sides of that river to Paris. The other multitudinous host, under Schwartzenberg, having obtained abundant reinforcements, still trembling before the renown of Napoleon, were cautiously to descend the valley of the Seine. Napoleon, leaving ten thousand men at Troyes, to obstruct the march of Schwartzenberg, took thirty thousand troops with him, and resolutely pursued Blucher. The Prussians, astonished at the vigor of the pursuit, and bleeding beneath the blows which Napoleon incessantly dealt on their rear-guard, retreated precipitately. The name of Napoleon was so terrible, that one hundred thousand Prussians fled, in dismay, before the little band of thirty thousand exhausted troops, headed by the Emperor.

66

In the midst of these scenes of impending peril, Napoleon was urged to request Maria Louisa, to interpose with her father, in behalf of her husband. No," Napoleon promptly replied, with pride which all will respect, "the archduchess has seen me at the summit of human power. It does not belong to me to tell her now that I am descended from it, and still less to beg of her to uphold me with her support." Though he could not condescend to implore the aid of Maria Louisa, it is very evident that he hoped that she would anticipate his wishes, and secretly endeavor to disarm the hostility of the Emperor Francis. The Empress was with Napoleon when he received the intelligence that Austria would in all probability join the coalition. He turned affectionately toward her, took her hand and said, in tones of sadness:

"Your father is then about to march anew against me. Now I am alone against all! yes alone! absolutely alone!" Maria Louisa burst into tears, arose, and left the apartment.

Napoleon now formed the bold resolve to fall upon the rear of Schwartzenberg's army, and cut off his communications with Germany and his supplies. With astonishing celerity he crossed the country again, from the Marne to the Seine, and Schwartzenberg, in dismay, heard the thunBlucher crossed the Marne, blew up the bridges ders of Napoleon's artillery in his rear. The behind him, and escaped, some fifty miles north, Austrian army, though two hundred thousand to the vicinity of Laon. Napoleon reconstructed strong, dared not advance. They turned and the bridges and followed on. By wonderful skill fled. Alexander, Francis, and Frederick William, in manœuvring, he had placed Blucher in such mindful of Napoleon's former achievements, and a position that his destruction was inevitable, dreading a snare, turned from Paris toward the when suddenly Bernadotte came, with a power- Rhine, and put spurs to their horses. The enorful army, to the aid of his Prussian ally. Na- mous masses of the retreating Allies, unexpectpoleon had now but about twenty-five thousand edly encountered Napoleon at Arcis upon the men with whom to encounter these two united Aube. A sanguinary battle ensued. "Napoarmies, more than one hundred thousand. With leon," says Lamartine, "fought at hazard, withthe energies of despair he fell upon his foes. out any other plan and with the resolution to His little army was melted away and consumed conquer or die. He renewed, in this action, the before the terrific blaze of the hostile batteries. miracles of bravery and sang froid of Lodi and The battle was long and sanguinary. Contend-of Rivoli; and his youngest soldiers blushed at ing against such fearful odds courage was of no the idea of deserting a chief, who hazarded his avail. The enemy, however, could do no more own life with such invincible courage. He was than hold their ground. Napoleon rallied around repeatedly seen spurring his horse to a gallop him his mutilated band, and retired to Rheims. against the enemy's cannon, and reappearing, as The enemy dared not pursue fim in his despair. if inaccessible to death, after the smoke had As soon as Schwartzenberg heard that Napo- evaporated. A live shell having fallen in front leon was in pursuit of Blucher, he commenced, of one of his young battalions, which recoiled with two hundred thousand men, his march upon and wavered in expectation of an explosion, Paris, by the valley of the Seine. The Duke of Napoleon, to reassure them, spurred his charger Wellington was, at the same time, at Bordeaux, toward the instrument of destruction, made him with his combined army of English, Portuguese, smell the burning match, waited unshaken for and Spaniards, moving, almost without opposi- the explosion, and was blown up. Rolling in the tion, upon the metropolis of France. The Duke dust with his mutilated steed, and rising withof Angoulême was with the English army, call-out a wound amidst the plaudits of the soldiers, ing upon the royalists to rally beneath the un-he calmly called for another horse, and continued furled banner of the Bourbons. Another army to brave the grape-shot, and to fly into the thickest of the Allies had also crossed the Alps from of the battle.' Switzerland, and had advanced as far as Lyons. During the heat of the conflict a division of Wherever Napoleon looked he saw but the march Russian cavalry, six thousand strong, preceded of triumphant armies of invasion. Dispatches by an immense body of Cossacks, with wild reached him with difficulty. He was often re-hurrahs, broke through the feeble lines of the

French. The smoke of their guns, and the clouds of dust raised by their horses' hoofs, enveloped them in impenetrable obscurity. Napoleon, from a distance, with his eagle glance, perceived the approach of this whirlwind of battle. Putting spurs to his horse he galloped to the spot. He here encountered crowds of soldiers, some of them wounded and bleeding, flying in dismay. It was a scene of awful tumult. At that moment an officer, bareheaded and covered with blood, galloped to meet the Emperor, exclaiming :

"Sire! the Cossacks, supported by an immense body of cavalry, have broken our ranks, and are driving us back." The Emperor rushed into the midst of the fugitives, and, raising himself in his stirrups shouted in a voice that rung above the uproar of the battle, "Soldiers! rally! Will you fly when I am here? Close your ranks; forward!"

in one resistless body, advanced once more toward Paris, thronging, with their vast array, all the roads which follow the valley of the Marne. Napoleon was about two hundred miles from Paris. He hoped, by doubling his speed, to descend the valley of the Seine, and to arrive at the metropolis almost as soon as the Allies. There he had resolved to make his last and desperate stand.

[ocr errors]

As soon as Napoleon learned that the combined army were marching vigorously upon Paris, he exclaimed, "I will be in the city before them. Nothing but a thunder-bolt can now save us.' Orders were immediately given for the army to be put in motion. The Emperor passed the whole night shut up in his cabinet, perusing his maps.

"This," says Caulaincourt, "was another cruel night. Not a word was uttered. Deep sighs sometimes escaped his oppressed bosom. He seemed as if he had lost his power of breathing. Good heaven! how much he suffered !”

His brother Joseph was then in command of the city. Napoleon dispatched courier after courier, entreating him, in the most earnest terms, to rouse the populace, to arm the students, and to hold out until his arrival. He assured him that if he would keep the enemy in check but for two days, at the longest, he would arrive, and would yet compel the Allies to accept reasonable terms. "If the enemy," said he,

At that well known and dearly beloved voice, the flying troops immediately re-formed. Napoleon placed himself at their head and, sword in hand, plunged into the midst of the Cossacks. With a shout of Vive l'Empereur! the men followed him. The Cossacks were driven back with enormous slaughter. Thus one thousand men, headed by the Emperor, arrested and drove back six thousand of their foes. The Emperor then tranquilly returned to his post, and continued to direct the dreadful storm of war. During every hour of this conflict, the masses of the Allies were accumulating. Night at length dark-in such force as to render all resistance vain, send ened over the dreadful scene, and the feeble bands off, in the direction of the Loire, the Empressof the French army retired into the town of Arcis. Regent, my son, the grand dignitaries, the minisThe Allies, alarmed by this bold march of Napo- ters, and the great officers of the crown and of leon toward the Rhine, now concentrated their the treasury. Do not quit my son. Recollect innumerable forces on the plains of Chalons. that I would rather see him in the Seine than in Even Blucher and Bernadotte came back to join the hands of the enemies of France. The fate them. of Astyanax, prisoner of the Greeks, has always appeared to me the most unhappy fate recorded in history."

Soon after the battle of Arcis, the Austrians intercepted a French courier who had, with other dispatches, the following private letter from Napoleon to Maria Louisa. "My love! I have been for some days on horseback. On the 20th I took Arcis-sur-Aube. The enemy attacked me there at eight o'clock in the evening; I beat him the same evening; I took two guns and retook two. The next day the enemy's army put itself in battle array, to protect the march of its columns on Brienne and Bar-sur-Aube; and I resolved to approach the Marne and its environs, in order to drive them further from Paris, by approaching my own fortified places. This evening I shall be at St. Dizier. Farewell, my love! Embrace my son!"

Another council of war was held by the Allies. The dread of Napoleon was so great, that many argued the necessity of falling back upon the Rhine, to prevent Napoleon from entering Germany, and relieving his garrisons which were blockaded there. Others urged the bolder counsel of marching directly upon Paris. Napoleon was now at Areis. The Allies were thirty miles north of him at Chalons, on the banks of the Marne. On the 25th of March the Allies, united

[ocr errors]

"advance upon Paris

Napoleon at Arcis, was four marches further distant from Paris than were the Allies at Chalons. It was a singular spectacle which the two armies now presented. The Allies, numbering some three hundred thousand, were rushing down the valley of the Marne. The war-wasted army of Napoleon, now dwindled to thirty thousand men, with bleeding feet, and tattered garments, and unhealed wounds, were hurrying down the parallel valley of the Seine. The miry roads, just melting from the frosts of winter, and cut up by the ponderous enginery of war, were wretched in the extreme. But the soldiers, still adoring their Emperor, who marched on foot in their midst, sharing their perils and their toils, were animated by the indomitable energies of his own spirit.

Throwing aside every thing which retarded their speed, they marched nearly fifty miles a day. Napoleon, before leaving Arcis, with characteristic humanity, sent two thousand francs, from his private purse, to the Sisters of Charity, to aid them in relieving the wants of the sick and wounded. At midnight, on the 29th of

March, the French army arrived at Troyes. In Marshal Marmont also, who was contending the early dawn of the next morning, Napoleon against Blucher, sent a similar proposition to the was again upon the march, at the head of his Allies. But the fire was so dreadful, and the guard. Having advanced some fifteen miles, confusion so great, that seven times the officers, his impatience became so insupportable, that he who attempted, with flags of truce, to pass over threw himself into a light carriage, which chance to the hostile camp, were shot down, with their presented, and proceeded rapidly to Sens. The horses, on the plain. During this scene, Marnight was cold, dark, and dismal, as he entered mont slowly retreated, with one arm severely the town. He immediately assembled the mag-wounded, the hand of the other shattered by a istrates, and ordered them to have refreshments bullet, and having had five horses killed under ready for his army, upon its arrival. Then, him during the action. mounting a horse, he galloped, through the long hours of a dark night, along the road toward Fontainebleau.

In the gloomy hours of the night, when Napoleon was galloping along the solitary road, the allied monarchs were congratulating themselves upon their astonishing victory. Napoleon had avoided Fontainebleau, lest he should encounter there some detachments of the enemy.

The

ened the sky, and Napoleon encountered no one on the deserted roads who could give him any information respecting the capital. Far away in the distance the horizon blazed with the bivouacfires of his foes. The clock on the tower of the church was tolling the hour of twelve as he entered the little village of La Cour. Through the gloom, in the wide street, he saw groups of disbanded soldiers, marching toward Fontainebleau. Riding into the midst of them, he exclaimed with astonishment

Dreadful was the scene which was then occurring in Paris. The Allied army had already approached within cannon-shot of the city. Mortier and Marmont made a desperate, but an un-night was intensely cold; gloomy clouds darkavailing resistance. At last, with ammunition entirely exhausted, and with their ranks almost cut to pieces by the awful onslaught, they were driven back into the streets of the city. Marmont, with his sword broken, his hat and clothes pierced with balls, his features blackened with smoke, disputed, step by step, the advance of the enemy into the suburbs. With but eight thou- | sand infantry and eight hundred cavalry, he held at bay, for twelve hours, fifty-five thousand of the Allies. In this dreadful conflict the enemy lost, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, fourteen thousand men. The Empress, with the chief officers of the state, and with the ladies of her General Belliard, one of Napoleon's most decourt, had fled to Blois. Her beautiful child, in-voted friends, from behind a door recognizing the heriting the spirit of his noble sire, clung to the curtains of his apartment, refusing to leave.

"They are betraying my papa, and I will not go away," exclaimed the precocious child, who was never destined to see that loved father again. "I do not wish to leave the palace. I do not wish to go away from it. When papa is absent, am I not master here?" Nothing but the ascendency of his governess, Madame Montesquieu, could calm him. And she succeeded only by promising faithfully that he should be brought back again. His eyes were filled with tears as he was taken to the carriage. Maria Louisa was calm and resigned; but pallid with fear, she took her departure, as she listened to the deep booming of the cannon, which announced the sanguinary approach of her own father.

The batteries of the Allies were now planted upon Montmartre, and upon other heights which commanded the city, and the shells were falling thickly in the streets of Paris. Joseph, deeming further resistance unavailing, ordered a capitulation. Mortier, in the midst of a dreadful fire, wrote, upon a drum-head, the following lines to Schwartzenberg:

"Prince, let us save a useless effusion of blood. I propose to you a suspension of arms for twenty-four hours; during which we will treat in order to save Paris from the horrors of a siege; otherwise we will defend ourselves, within its walls, to the death."*

* "Had Paris held out for two days longer, Napoleon's army would have entered it, and every one is well

"How is this! why are not these soldiers marching to Paris?"

voice of the Emperor, immediately came forward and said, "Paris has capitulated. The enemy enters to-morrow, two hours after sunrise. These troops are the remains of the armies of Marmont and Mortier, falling back on Fontainebleau, to join the Emperor's army at Troyes."

The Emperor seemed stunned by the blow. For a moment there was dead silence. The cold drops of agony oozed from his brow. Then, with rapid step, he walked backward and forward on the rugged pavement in front of the hotel, hesitating, stopping, retracing his steps, bewildered by the enormity of his woe. He then, in rapid interrogatories, without waiting for any answer, as if speaking only to himself, exclaimed,

"Where is my wife? Where is my son? Where is the army? What has become of the National Guard of Paris, and of the battle they were to have fought, to the last man, under its walls? and the Marshals Mortier and Marmont, where shall I find them again?"

acquainted with his skill in the management of affairs. senals open to the people. His presence would have in

He would have had no hesitation to have thrown the ar

fluenced the multitude. He would have imparted a salutary direction to their enthusiasm, and Paris would no doubt have imitated the example of Saragossa; or, to speak more correctly, the enemy would not have ventured to make any attempt upon it; for, independently of the Emperor's being for them a Medusa's head, it was ascertained, at a later period, that in the battle which preceded the surrender of the capital, they had consumed nearly the whole of their ammunition. Tears of blood are ready to flow at the bare recollection of these facts.”—Memoirs of the Duke of Rovigo, vol. iv. p. 44.

After a moment's pause, he continued, with | years, I can never forget these scenes. They are impatient voice and gesture: "The night is still the fixed ideas of my sleepless nights. My remine. The enemy only enters at daybreak. My miniscences are frightful. They kill me. The carriage! my carriage! Let us go this instant! repose of the tomb is sweet after such sufferings." Let us get before Blucher and Schwartzenberg! It was now past midnight. Caulaincourt Let Belliard follow me with the cavalry! Let mounted another horse, and galloped in the deep us fight even in the streets and squares of Paris! obscurity by another route to Paris. Napoleon My presence, my name, the courage of my troops, also mounted his horse, and in silence and in the necessity of following me or of dying, will sadness took the route to Fontainebleau. A arouse Paris. My army, which is following me, group of officers, dejected, exhausted, and woewill arrive in the midst of the struggle. It will worn, followed in his train. At four o'clock in take the enemy in rear, while we are fighting the morning he arrived at this ancient palace of them in front. Come on! success awaits me the kings of France. Conscious of his fallen forperhaps in my last reverse!" tunes, he seemed to shrink from every thing which could remind him of the grandeurs of royalty. Passing by the state apartments which his glory had embellished, and to which his renown still attracts the footsteps of travelers from all lands, he entered, like a private citizen, into a small and obscure chamber in one angle of the castle. A

General Belliard then acknowledged to him that, by the terms of the capitulation, the army of Paris was bound to fall back upon Fontainebleau. For a moment Napoleon was again silent, and then exclaimed: "To surrender the capital to the enemy! What cowards! Joseph ran off too! my very brother! And so they have capit-window opened into a small garden, shaded with ulated! betrayed their brother, their country, their sovereign; degraded France in the eyes of Europe! Entered into a capital of eight hundred thousand souls without firing a shot! It is too dreadful. What has been done with the artillery? They should have had two hundred pieces, and ammunition for a month. And yet they had only a battery of six pieces, and an empty magazine, on Montmartre. When I am not there, they do nothing but heap blunder upon blunder."

A group of officers successively arriving, now closed sadly around their Emperor. Napoleon became more calm, as he interrogated them, one by one, and listened to the details of the irreparable disaster. Then taking Caulaincourt aside,

he directed him to ride, with the utmost speed, to the head-quarters of the Allies. "See," said he, "if I have yet time to interpose in the treaty which is signing already perhaps, without me and against me. I give you full powers. Do not lose an instant. I await you here." Caulaincourt mounted his horse and disappeared. Napoleon then, followed by Belliard and Berthier, entered the hotel.

Caulaincourt speedily arrived at the advanced posts of the enemy. He gave his name, and demanded a passage. The sentinels, however, refused to allow him to enter the lines. After an absence of two hours, Caulaincourt returned to the Emperor. They conversed together for a few moments, during which Napoleon, though calm, seemed plunged into the profoundest grief, and Caulaincourt wept bitterly.

"My dear Caulaincourt," said Napoleon, "go again, and try to see the Emperor Alexander. You have full powers from me. I have now no hope but in you, Caulaincourt." Affectionately he extended his hand to his faithful friend.

Caulaincourt pressed it fervently to his lips, and said, "I go, Sire; dead or alive, I will gain entrance into Paris, and will speak to the Emperor Alexander."

As, several years after, Caulaincourt was relating these occurrences, he said, "My head is burning; I am feverish; should I live a hundred

funereal firs, which resembled the cemeteries of
his native island. Here he threw himself upon
a couch, and his noble heart throbbed with the
pulsations of an almost unearthly agony. But he
was calm and silent in his woe.
The troops
which had followed him from Troyes, and those
which had retired from Paris, soon arrived, and
were cantoned around him. They numbered about
fifty thousand. Their devotion to the Emperor
was never more enthusiastic, and they clamored
loudly to be led against the three hundred thou-
sand Allies, who were marching proudly into
Paris.

THE POOR CHILD'S CRADLE.

BABYHOOD is certainly an important period

of human existence. Important, not only to the individual in that juvenile stage, who has his long career of three score and ten before him, and is forming the shape of his legs, the configuration of his features, and, for aught we know, going through an analogous process of mental development, but also to his anxious parents, and his kindred more or less remote.

How important a personage is the first-born of the family on his first appearance! How his coming is heralded, like that of the hero on the stage, by flourish of (their own) trumpets, by nurses and doctors! What stores of baby linen and soft outer wrapping! What consultation over Christian names; what balancing of choice between the plain patronymic and the tempting surname of pet hero, presidential candidate, or parson! The baby is born, and is at once king of the household, Grand Lama of the domestic Thibet. Gentle must be the footfall about his couch, that his slumbers be not rudely broken, pleasant-featured the countenance that greets his waking eyes, tender the touch, gentle the hand and arms that move and dandle. Not only are father and mother abject slaves themselves of the new comer, but they see to it that all others shall be so as well. The stranger within their gates must play the courtier if he would maintain his occasional right to draw his chair to the fireside, and ply knife and fork

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]
« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »