never stopping for a moment until he reached Charleroi. Hardly had the English advanced for this fatal charge, when Blucher's columns, emerging from the woods, were at length seen forming on the right of the French, and preparing to take part in the battle. Their cannonade played on the flank of the Old Guard, while the British attack in front was overwhelming them. The fatal cry of sauve qui peut was heard everywhere: the French were now flying pellmell in the most woful confusion. Blucher and Wellington met at length at the farmhouse of La Belle Alliance; and the Prussian eagerly undertook to continue the pursuit during the night, while the English General halted to refresh his weary men. The loss of Wellington's army on this great day was terrible: 100 officers slain (many of the first distinction), and 500 wounded, very many mortally; and of rank and file killed and wounded, 15,000. The Duke himself had been, all through the day, wherever the danger was greatest; and he alone, and one gentleman besides, of all a very numerous staff, came off the ground unhurt. Of the 75,000 men whom Napoleon conducted to this last and severest of his fields, what with the slain and the wounded, and those who, losing heart and hope, deserted and fled separately to their homes, not more than 30,000 were ever again collected in arms. The Prussians followed hard on the miserable fugitives, and in every hamlet and village, for many miles beyond La Belle Alliance, cut down the lingerers without mercy. Napoleon at length halted at Philippeville; from which point he designed to turn towards Grouchy, and take in person the command of that remaining division, leaving Soult to re-assemble and rally, at Avesnes, the relics of Waterloo. But hearing that Blucher was already at Charleroi (which was true), and that Grouchy had been overtaken and made prisoner (which was false), the Emperor abandoned his purpose, and continued his journey, travelling post, to Paris. On the 19th the capital had been greeted with the news of three great victories, at Charleroi, at Ligny, and at Quatre-bras-100 cannon fired in honour of the Emperor's successes-his partizans proclaimed that the glory of France was securedand dejection filled the hearts of the royalists. On the morning of the 21st it transpired that Napoleon had arrived the night before, alone, at the Elysée. The secret could no longer be kept. A great, a decisive field had been fought;-and the French army was no more. CHAPTER XLI. Napoleon appeals in vain to the Chambers--abdicates for the second time-is sent to Malmaison-and then to Rochefort-negotiates with Capt. Maitland-embarks in the Bellerophon-arrives at Torbay― Decision of the English Government- Interview with Lord Keith, &c.-Napoleon on board the Northumberland-sails for St. Helena. ON how sandy a foundation the exile of Elba had rebuilt the semblance of his ancient authority, a few hours of adversity were more than sufficient to show. He was still consulting with his ministers (even they were not all his friends,) on the morning of the 21st, in what manner he ought to inform the Chambers of his great misfortune, and what assistance he should demand, when the news reached the Elysée, that both the assemblies had met as soon as the story of Waterloo transpired, and passed a series of resolutions; one of which declared the state to be in danger-and another, their sittings permanent; in other words, proclaimed his reign to be at an end. If any thing could have been wanted to complete Napoleon's conviction that the army had elevated him in opposition to the nation-it must have been found in the fact that the funds rose rapidly from the moment in which it was known in Paris that the VOL. II. Y. army was ruined. They went on to tell him that the Chambers were debating on the means of defending Paris. "Ah," said he-deeply feeling in what loss all had been lost to him-"Ah, could they but defend them like my Old Guard!" If Napoleon had listened to the advice of his brother Lucien, and the few who really considered their own fortunes as irrevocably bound up with his, he would have instantly put himself at the head of 6,000 of the Imperial Guard, who were then in the capital, and dissolved the unfriendly senate of Paris, on the 21st of June, as unceremoniously as he had that of St. Cloud on the 19th of Brumaire. Lucien said ever after, that “the smoke of Mont St. Jean had turned his brain." He certainly gave what remained of the day to vacillation. Late in the evening he held a council, to which the presidents and vice-presidents of both Chambers were admitted. In their presence La Fayette signified that nothing could be done until a great sacrifice had been made. Maret answered with fierceness; called for severe measures against the royalists and the disaffected: Had such been resorted to earlier," cried he, "one who hears me would not be smiling at the misfortunes of France, and Wellington would not be marching on Paris." This strong allusion to Fouché suited not the temper of the moment. Maret was murmured down; and Carnot himself is said to have shed tears, when he perceived that the abdication was judged necessary. That ancient democrat had indeed just consented to be a count; but he enjoys apparently the credit of having acted on this occasion as a good Frenchman. He saw, say even the anti 66 |