Carnot pretended that this memorial had been published during

his absence, and without his knowledge, but he did not deny the

composition; and it was most industriously circulated throughout Paris

from little carts, to avoid the penalties which would have fallen on

the booksellers had they issued it. As for Fouché, he endeavoured to

persuade Louis to declare himself attached to the Revolution--to assume

the tricolour flag and cockade. For Louis to have ruled according to

the more liberal ideas introduced by the Revolution would have been

wise, without declaring himself formally the disciple of opinions which

had sent so many of his family to the guillotine; but to have followed

the invidious advice of Fouché would have let loose at once that

terrible race of Jacobins which had never ceased to massacre all other

parties and then their own so long as they had the power. The cannon

of Buonaparte alone had arrested their career; the advice of Fouché

would have recalled it in all its horrors. Not prevailing on Louis to

do so foolish an act, he wrote to Napoleon, advising him to get away to

America, or it would not be long before the Bourbons, in spite of the

treaty, would seize and put him to death; and then Fouché entered heart

and soul into the plots of the Jacobins for the restoration of Napoleon.

Whilst these elements of a new convulsion were in active operation,

the Allies had settled to some extent the affairs of Europe, and

had returned home. On the 30th of May a treaty had been signed at

Paris, between Britain, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, with France.

The boundaries of France were settled as they existed in 1792; it was

decreed that Holland and Belgium should be united to form a strong

barrier against France; the independence of Switzerland was restored;

the north of Italy was again made over to Austria, including Venice,

but not including Sardinia, which was enlarged by the addition of

Genoa, out of which Lord William Bentinck, with a British army, had

driven the French. Murat had assisted the Austrians to conquer Eugene

Beauharnais, and hoped to be allowed to retain Naples, yet having many

fears of his new allies, the Austrians, and of the Allies generally.

The Pope was again in peaceful possession of his States; the arms and

the money of Great Britain had triumphed over Buonaparte, and had

restored the monarchs of Europe to their thrones; but it was not to

be denied that in restoring them they had restored so many detestable

despotisms.

Not one of these monarchs, whose subjects had shed their blood and

laid down their lives by hundreds of thousands to replace them in

their power, had in return given these subjects a recompense by the

institution of a more liberal form of government. The German kings

and princes had openly promised such constitutions to induce them to

expel Buonaparte; and, this accomplished, they shamefully broke their

word. As Lord Byron well observed, we had put down one tyrant only to

establish ten. In Spain, where we had made such stupendous exertions to

restore Ferdinand, that monarch entered about the end of March; and his

arrival was a signal for all the old royalists and priests to gather

round him, and to insist on the annihilation of the Constitution made

by the Cortes. He went to Gerona, where he was joined by General Elio

and forty thousand men. Thence he marched to Saragossa and Valencia.

At that city _Te Deum_ was sung for his restoration, and, surrounded

by soldiers and priests, he declared that the Cortes had never been

legally convoked; that they had deprived him of the sovereignty, and

the nobles and clergy of their status; and that he would not swear to

the Constitution which they had prepared. On the 12th of May he entered

his capital, amid the most frantic joy of the ignorant populace, and

proceeded at once to seize all Liberal members of the Cortes, and throw

them into prison. Wellington hastened to Madrid, and with his brother,

Sir Henry Wellesley, the British Ambassador, and General Whittingham,

in vain urged on Ferdinand to establish a liberal constitution,

and govern on liberal principles. It was clear there was a time of

terrible and bloody strife before Spain between the old tyrannies and

superstitions and the new ideas.

In balancing accounts at the Congress at Paris, there was a resignation

on the part of Great Britain of the colonies which she had won with so

much cost of money and men. Our statesmen never thought of placing some

of the enormous sums we had bestowed on the Powers we helped against

the islands we had conquered. We had dearly purchased them. But Great

Britain gave back to France all the colonies possessed by her in 1792,

except Tobago, St. Lucia, and the Isle of France. Still more absurdly,

we returned Pondicherry, in the East Indies, as a focus for fresh

annoyances there from the French, whom we had expelled at such cost

for their meddling and exciting the natives against us. We restored

to the French, under certain conditions, the right of fishing on the

bank of Newfoundland, as they had enjoyed it in 1783; conditions which

they boldly violated, and which the British Ministry did not venture to

insist on being observed. We gave back also to Spain several islands

and colonies; and the same to Holland--namely, Demerara, Essequibo,

Berbice, the immense island of Java, and the rich one of Sumatra,

retaining only the Cape of Good Hope and the settlements in Ceylon.

These arrangements having been made, the sovereigns of Russia and

Prussia came over to London on a visit to the Prince Regent, and

to take a look at that wonderful capital which had poured out such

torrents of gold to bring up their armies to Paris. With them came

the Duchess of Oldenburg, the sister of the Czar, the two sons of the

King of Prussia, and a great number of the victorious field-marshals,

generals, princes, dukes, barons, and the like. But the two grand

favourites of the people were Platoff, whose Cossacks had charmed the

British people so by their wild prowess, and the bluff old Marshal

Blucher. This was a hero exactly after the British heart--blunt,

uncompromising, and, like the British, never knowing when he was

beaten.

[Illustration:

THE

STATES OF EUROPE

in 1815.

]

CHAPTER III.

REIGN OF GEORGE III. (_concluded_).

The Congress at Vienna--Napoleon's Escape from Elba--Military

Preparations--England supplies the Money--Wellington organises

his Army--Napoleon's Journey through France--His Entry into

Paris--The Enemy gathers round him--Napoleon's Preparations--The

New Constitution--Positions of Wellington and Blucher--The Duchess

of Richmond's Ball--Battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras--Blucher's

Retreat--The Field of Waterloo--The Battle--Charge of the Old

Guard--Arrival of the Prussians--The Retreat--French Assertions

about the Battle refuted--Napoleon's Abdication--The Allies

march on Paris--End of the Hundred Days--The Emperor is sent

to St. Helena--The War in America--Events on the Canadian

Frontier--Repeated Incapacity of Sir George Prevost--His

Recall--Failure of American Designs on Canada--Capture of

Washington by the British--Other Expeditions--Failure of the

Expedition to New Orleans--Anxiety of the United States for

Peace--Mediation of the Czar--Treaty of Ghent--Execution of Ney

and Labédoyère--Inability of Wellington to interfere--Murat's

Attempt on Naples--His Execution--The Second Treaty of Paris--Final

Conditions between France and the Allies--Remainder of the Third

George's Reign--Corn Law of 1815--General Distress--Riots and

Political Meetings--The Storming of Algiers--Repressive Measures in

Parliament--Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act--Secret Meetings in

Lancashire--The Spy Oliver--The Derbyshire Insurrection--Refusal

of Juries to convict--Suppression of seditious Writings--Circular

to Lords-Lieutenant--The Flight of Cobbett--First Trial of

Hone--The Trials before Lord Ellenborough--Bill for the Abolition

of Sinecures--Death of the Princess Charlotte--Opening of

the Session of 1818--Repeal of the Suspension Act--Operation

of the Corn Law--The Indemnity Bill--Its Passage through

Parliament--Attempts at Reform--Marriages of the Dukes of Clarence,

Cambridge, and Kent--Renewal of the Alien Act--Dissolution of

Parliament and General Election--Strike in Manchester--Congress

of Aix-la-Chapelle--Raids of the Pindarrees--Lord Hastings

determines to suppress them--Malcolm's Campaign--Outbreak of

Cholera--Campaign against the Peishwa--Pacification of the Mahratta

District--Apparent Prosperity of Great Britain in 1819--Opening of

Parliament--Debates on the Royal Expenditure--Resumption of Cash

Payments--The Budget--Social Reforms--The Scottish Burghs--Roman

Catholic Emancipation rejected--Weakness of the Government--Meeting

at Manchester--The Peterloo Massacre--The Six Acts--The Cato Street

Conspiracy--Attempted Insurrection in Scotland--Trials of Hunt and

his Associates--Death of George III.

The Allied sovereigns and their Ministers met at Vienna, in the opening

of the year 1815, in congress, to settle the boundaries of all such

States as had undergone disruptions and transformations through the

will of Buonaparte. They were proceeding, with the utmost composure, to

rearrange the map of Europe according to their several interests and

ambitions. Austria, Spain, France, Great Britain, Portugal, Prussia,

Russia, and Sweden had their sovereigns or their representatives there.

Those for Great Britain were the Duke of Wellington, the Lords Cathcart

and Clancarty, and Sir Charles Stewart. All at once a clap of political

thunder shook the place, and made every astute diplomatist look aghast.

It was announced that Buonaparte had escaped from Elba, and was rapidly

traversing France on the way to Paris, and that his old soldiers were

flocking with acclamation to his standard. It was what was certain to

occur--what every man not a cunning diplomatist must have foreseen

from the first, as certainly as that a stone thrown up is sure to come

down again. Yet no one seems to have foreseen it, except it were Lord

Castlereagh, who, not arriving at Paris before this foolish scheme was

adopted, had protested against it, and then yielded to it. On the 13th

of March the ministers of the Allied Powers met, and signed a paper

which, at length, was in earnest, and showed that they were now as well

convinced of a simple fact as the dullest intellect had been ten years

before--that there was no use treating Buonaparte otherwise than as a

wild beast. They now declared him an outlaw, a violator of treaties,

and an incorrigible disturber of the peace of the world; and they

delivered him over to public contempt and vengeance. Of course, the

British ambassadors were immediately looked to for the means of moving

the armies of these high and mighty Powers, and the Duke of Wellington

to plan and to lead the military operations against the man who had

once more developed himself from the Emperor of Elba into the Emperor

of the French.

The Duke of Wellington wrote to the British Government to inform them

of this event, and that the Allied sovereigns were this time resolved

to make sure of the fugitive; that the Emperor of Austria had agreed to

bring into the field three hundred thousand men; the Czar, two hundred

and twenty-five thousand; Prussia, two hundred and thirty-six thousand;

the other States of Germany, one hundred and fifty thousand; and that

it was expected Holland would furnish fifty thousand. Thus nine hundred

and sixty thousand men were promised, independently of Sweden and Great

Britain; so that a million of men might be calculated upon to crush

Buonaparte, provided that the latter Power were ready to furnish the

necessary millions of money to put this mighty host in motion.

[Illustration: THE CONGRESS OF VIENNA.]

The Duke earnestly recommended the utmost promptness and liberality as

the only means to settle the matter effectually and at once. He said

that to give only moderate assistance was sure to enable Buonaparte

to protract the contest, and would cost Britain more in the end;

that, on the contrary, if Britain found the means of maintaining a

great army, he was confident that "the contest would be a very short

one, and decidedly successful." And this, in the circumstances, was

clearly the best advice. Great Britain, having been no party to the

silly arrangement for setting up Buonaparte as a burlesque emperor

at the very doors of France, might very well have said to the Allied

sovereigns--"This is your work; we have no further concern in it; you

may finish it as you please." But Britain was sure not to do this; as

both the Government and nation had set their mind on hunting down the

slippery and mischievous adventurer, they were sure to follow up the

pursuit.

The British Ministry adopted the advice most cordially. Lord Liverpool,

in the House of Lords, and Lord Castlereagh, in the Commons, on

the 6th of April, announced the astounding fact of the escape of

Buonaparte, and proposed addresses from both Houses to the Prince

Regent, recommending the most energetic measures of co-operation with

the Allies now finally to crush this lawless man. Whitbread vehemently

opposed this measure, declaring that it was not our business "to

commence a new crusade to determine who should fill the throne of

France." This was true enough; but it was a truth, in the then temper

of the Government or public, which was not likely to be attended to.

The addresses were carried in both Houses without any division, and

Lord Wellington was nominated to command the forces which should take

the field for Great Britain; and these were to amount to no fewer than

one hundred and fifty thousand, and to consist of a moderate number of

British soldiers, and the rest to be paid Hanoverians, Belgians, Dutch,

and Germans. Parliament immediately voted the enormous sum of ninety

million pounds for supplies, knowing the vast subsidies which would be

required by the Allied monarchs, besides the large sum necessary to pay

our own quota of troops.

On the 23rd of March the Allied sovereigns, including that of the

United Kingdom, signed, by their plenipotentiaries, a new treaty of

alliance offensive and defensive, on the same principles as the Treaty

of Chaumont, entered into in March, 1814. The Duke of Wellington then

hastened away to Belgium to muster his forces there--for Belgium, as

it had been so often before, was sure to become the battle-ground on

this occasion. So early as the 5th of April he announced that he had

placed thirteen thousand four hundred men in the fortresses of Belgium,

and had besides twenty-three thousand British and Hanoverian troops,

twenty thousand Dutch and Belgian, and sixty pieces of artillery.

Unfortunately, the bulk of his victorious army of the Peninsula had

been sent to the inglorious contest with America, where a good naval

blockade would have been the most effectual kind of warfare. But

he observed that Buonaparte would require some time to assemble a

strong force, and this time must be employed by Britain to collect

a correspondingly powerful army. The Duke, with accustomed energy,

not only applied himself with all his strength to this object, but

to stimulating, by letters, the Allied sovereigns to hasten up their

quotas, some of them notoriously the slowest nations in the world.

Buonaparte landed at Cannes on the 1st of March. His advanced guard

presented themselves before Antibes, and were made prisoners by the

garrison. This did not discourage Buonaparte; he advanced by forced

marches with his now less than one thousand men, and leaving behind

him his train of artillery. Till he reached Dauphiné, however, he

received very little encouragement from any party. All the authorities,

proprietors, and clergy, stood aloof; only a few peasantry occasionally

cried "_Vive l'Empereur!_" but did not join him. He began to be very

uneasy. But on the 7th of March, as he approached Grenoble, Colonel

Labédoyère, who had been gained over before, came out with an eagle

in his hand, and at the gates distributed tricolour cockades, which

had been concealed in a drum. Buonaparte advanced alone towards the

troops, and called on any one who wished to kill his Emperor to do his

pleasure. All cried "_Vive l'Empereur!_" and crowded round him. General

Marchand endeavoured to recall the soldiers to their duty, but in vain.

Whilst Napoleon was thus advancing towards Paris, the besotted Bourbons

rather rejoiced in it, for they said it would compel the two chambers

to invest the king with despotic power--that was what they were still

longing for; and Louis himself, addressing the foreign ambassadors,

bade them assure their sovereigns that he was well, and that the

foolish enterprise of "that man" should as little disturb Europe as it

had disturbed him.

Monsieur and the Duke of Orleans hastened to Lyons, and the Duke

of Angoulême to Nìmes. Corps of volunteers were called out, and an

address to the people was composed by Benjamin Constant, calling on

them to defend their liberties against Buonaparte; and a woman on the

staircase of the Tuileries exclaimed, "If Louis has not men enough

to fight, let him call out the widows and childless mothers who have

been rendered such by Napoleon!" Meanwhile the conspiracy of General

l'Allemand and his brother at Lille, to carry over the garrison of

eight thousand men to Napoleon, was discovered by General Mortier, and

defeated. Had this plot succeeded, Louis and his family must have been

made prisoners. But that was the extent of the adhesion to the Bourbon

cause.

When Buonaparte reached Lyons, the soldiers, in spite of the Duke

of Orleans, of Monsieur, and of Marshal Macdonald, went over to him

to a man. He was now at the head of seven thousand men, and Mâcon,

Châlons, Dijon, and nearly all Burgundy declared for him. Marseilles

and Provence stood out, the authorities of Marseilles setting a price

upon his head. But being now in Lyons, Buonaparte issued, with amazing

rapidity, no fewer than eight decrees, abolishing every change made by

the Bourbons during his absence, confiscating the property of every

Emigrant who had not lost it before, restoring the tricolour flag and

cockade, and the legion of honour; abolishing the two chambers, and

calling a _Champ-de-Mai_, to be held in the month of May to determine

on a new constitution, and to assist at the coronation of the Empress

and the King of Rome. He boldly announced that the Empress was coming;

that Austria, Russia, and Great Britain were all his friends, and that

without this he could not have escaped. These decrees, disseminated

on all sides, had a wonderful effect on the people, and he advanced

rapidly, reaching Auxerre on the 17th of March. He rode on several

hours in advance of his army, without Guards, talking familiarly with

the people, sympathising in their distresses, and promising all sorts

of redresses. The lancers of Auxerre and Montereau trampled the white

cockade under foot and joined him. He appointed Cambacérès minister of

justice; Fouché, of police; and Davoust Minister of War. But Fouché,

doubting the sincerity of Buonaparte, at once offered his services to

Louis, and promised, on being admitted to a private interview, to point

out to the king a certain means of extinguishing the usurper. This was

presumed to mean assassination by some of his secret agents, and was

honourably rejected by Louis, and an officer was sent to arrest Fouché;

but that adroit sycophant retired by a back door, locking it after

him, got over a wall, and was the next moment in the house of the

Duchess of St. Leu, and in the midst of the assembled Buonapartists,

who received him with exultation.

Thus surrounded by treason, Louis doubted the fidelity of Soult, who

resigned his command; but he trusted Ney, and sent him to attack

Buonaparte in the rear, whilst an army at Mélun, under Clarke, Duke

of Feltre, was to attack him in front. Ney took leave of Louis on the

9th of March, declaring that he would bring Buonaparte to him in a

cage; but at Lons-le-Saulnier, on the 14th, he received a letter from

Napoleon, calling him "the bravest of the brave," and inviting him to

resume his place in his army, and Ney went over at once. To abate the

public opinion of his treason, he pretended that this expedition had

been long arranged between himself and Buonaparte, but this Buonaparte

at St. Helena denied.

Astounded by these repeated defections, Louis tried to gather some

notion of the state of other bodies and troops about him. He attended a

sitting of the Chamber of Deputies, and was received with acclamation;

he reviewed twenty-five thousand of the National Guard, and there was

the same display of loyalty; he inspected six thousand troops of the

line, but there the reception was not encouraging. He finally summoned

a council at the Tuileries, and there the generals declared frankly

that he had no real means of resisting Buonaparte. This was on the 18th

of March, and Louis felt that it was time for him to be making his

retreat. At one o'clock in the morning of the 20th he was on his way

towards Lille, escorted by a body of Household Troops. It was time, for

that very day Buonaparte reached the camp of Mélun, where Macdonald had

drawn up the troops to attack him; but Buonaparte threw himself amongst

them, attended only by a slight escort of horse, and the soldiers all

went over to him with a shout. Macdonald rode back to Paris, and,

following the king, assumed the command of the Guard accompanying him.

Louis hoped that the troops at Lille, under Mortier, would stand by

him; but Mortier assured him of the contrary, and so, taking leave of

Macdonald on the frontiers, Louis pursued his way to Ostend and thence

to Ghent, where he established his Court. The Household Troops who had

accompanied him were disbanded on the frontiers, and in attempting to

regain their homes by different routes, most of them were killed, or

plundered and abused.

On the evening of the very day that Louis quitted Paris Buonaparte

arrived in it. He had slept on the night of the 19th at Fontainebleau,

where, in the preceding April, he had signed his abdication. No sooner

had the king departed than the Buonapartists, who were all ready for

that event, came forth from their hiding-places. Lavalette resumed

his position at the post-office, and thus managed to intercept the

proclamations of Louis, and to circulate those of Buonaparte. Exelmans

took down the white flag from the Tuileries and hoisted the tricolour,

and a host of the adherents of the old Imperial Government, hurrying

from all quarters, thronged the avenues to the palace, and filled

the court of the Carrousel. There were ex-Ministers of Buonaparte,

ex-councillors, ex-chamberlains, in imperial costume--in short, every

species of officers and courtiers, down to cooks, and butlers, and

valets, all crushing forward to re-occupy their places.

The Guards at the gates stood with tricolour cockades on their hats,

and the great ladies of the Court came driving in, for they were not

far off. The Duchess of St. Leu had been permitted to remain in Paris,

and her house had been the focus of all the Buonapartist adherents and

conspiracies. From that centre had been sent summonses to every branch

of the Buonaparte family to be in readiness, and all had responded

except Cardinal Fesch, Louis Buonaparte, and Eugene Beauharnais, who

had too much sense to quit Munich with his wife, the daughter of the

Bavarian king. Even Murat, to his ruin, had been induced to declare for

Buonaparte once more.

When the returned Emperor, therefore, drove up to the Tuileries, at

nearly ten o'clock on the night of the 20th--a foggy and wet night--his

carriage, covered with mud, was surrounded by his friends, as if he

had only been absent on one of his campaigns. As he stepped out of his

carriage in his old grey great-coat and cocked hat, now to be seen in

the museum of the Louvre, he was instantly so hemmed in that he called

out, "My friends, you stifle me!" and a number of general officers

at once hoisted him upon their shoulders, and thus bore him into the

palace and up into the State apartments amid deafening shouts of "_Vive

l'Empereur!_"

Thus was the man who had been put down by all the assembled armies

of Europe not twelve months before, who had quitted Paris weeping

like a woman, and threatened, in his exile southward, with being torn

limb from limb--thus was he as it were miraculously borne back again

on men's shoulders, and seated on the throne of the twice-expelled

Bourbons! It was far more like a wild romance than any serious history.

The peace of the world had again to be achieved. The Bourbons had

been worsted everywhere, even in loyal Vendée, and in Marseilles,

which had so recently set a price on Buonaparte's head. The Duke of

Angoulême was surrounded in Marseilles, and surrendered on condition of

quitting France. The Duke of Bourbon found La Vendée so permeated by

Buonapartism that he was obliged to escape by sea from Nantes; and the

Duchess of Angoulême, who had thrown herself into Bordeaux, found the

troops there infected by the Buonaparte mania, and, quitting the place

in indignation, went on board an English frigate.

But the position of Buonaparte was far from being secure or

satisfactory. Though the soldiers had come over to him, and endeavoured

to rouse the populace of Paris to shout for his return, it was in

vain. The Guards, incensed at their silence, struck them with the

flat of their swords, and bade them cry, "Napoleon and Liberty!" but,

though they saw that Napoleon had returned, they very much doubted

whether he had brought liberty with him, and they remained cold and

indifferent. They saw the armies of the Allies looming again in the

distance, and they gave no credence to Napoleon's ready lies that he

was at peace with them. But he omitted no exertions to enter into such

a peace. He dispatched messengers to every Court, offering to accept

the terms of the Treaty of Paris, though he had repeatedly avowed that

this treaty consummated the disgrace of France. To these messages

no answers were returned. It was already determined that he should

receive no communication from the Allied sovereigns but in the shape of

overwhelming armies. They had proclaimed, in their Congress at Vienna,

and in their new Treaty of Coalition, that he had forfeited every claim

to consideration, and the British House of Commons had fully coincided

with them, and already upwards of a million of soldiers were in arms,

and in march towards France to finally crush him.

In England the Chancellor of the Exchequer had found no difficulty in

raising a loan of thirty-six million pounds, and this money was freely

devoted to put the armies of the Coalition in motion. Never had such

vast armaments been in preparation from the very north of Europe to

France. The Congress had removed its _locale_ from Vienna to Frankfort,

to be nearer the scene of action. The Emperors of Russia and Austria,

and the King of Prussia, were again at the head of their forces. On

the side of Switzerland, one hundred and fifty thousand Austrians, who

were liberated from Italy by the defeat of Murat, were ready to march

into France; another army of the same number directed its course to the

upper Rhine. Schwarzenberg was again Commander-in-Chief of Austria. Two

hundred thousand Russians, under Barclay de Tolly, were also marching

for Alsace, and Langeron, Sacken, and other generals were at the head

of other numerous divisions, all under the nominal leadership of the

Archduke Constantine. Blucher was already posted in Belgium with one

hundred and fifty thousand Prussians; and the army of Wellington, of

eighty thousand men, composed of British, and different nations in

British pay, occupied Flanders. The contingents of Holland, Sweden,

and the smaller German states raised the total to upwards of a million

of men, which, if they were not all at hand, were ready to march up in

case of any reverses to those first in the field.

To contend against this enormous force, Buonaparte, by the most

surprising exertions, had again collected upwards of two hundred

thousand men of considerable military practice; but he dared not to

name the conscription to a people already sore on that point; and he

endeavoured to raise further reinforcements by an enrolment of National

Guards all over France. For this purpose commissioners were sent down

into the Departments, on the authority of an Imperial decree of April

the 5th; and he proposed to raise as many federates, or volunteers of

the lower orders--the only class which had raised a cheer for him on

his return. But these schemes proved, for the most part, abortive. In

the northern Departments, where heretofore the commands of Buonaparte

had been most freely obeyed, the inhabitants showed a sullen and dogged

resistance, and the same was the case in Brittany. Farther south

matters were worse. In the Departments of Gard, Marne, and Nether

Loire, the white flag and cockade were openly displayed; and wherever

the tree of liberty was planted--for it was now the trick of Buonaparte

to associate the sacred name of liberty with his, a name and a thing

on which he had so uniformly trampled--it was cut down and burnt. It

was in such circumstances that Buonaparte had to put his frontiers

into a state of defence against the advancing hosts. He had defended

the northern side of Paris with a double line of fortifications;

strongly fortified Montmartre, and on the open southern side cast up

some field-works, relying, however, on the Seine as the best barrier.

Paris he placed under the command of General Haxo; and the fortresses

on the side of Alsace, the Vosges, and Lorraine were all strongly

garrisoned. Lyons, Guise, Vitry, Soissons, Château-Thierry, Langres,

and other towns were made as strong as forts, redoubts, field-works,

and garrisons could make them; and trusting by these to retard the slow

Austrians, and even the Russians, till he could have given a desperate

blow to the Allies in the Netherlands, of whom he was most afraid, on

the 11th of June he quitted Paris, saying, "I go to measure myself with

Wellington!"

He had, however, lost something of his old self-confidence, and the

opposition which he had met with from the State, and the alienation

of the people, were not exhilarating. Napoleon saw that he must

conciliate the French by concessions, but neither his temperament nor

his necessities permitted him to do this liberally. He gave nominal

freedom to the press, but he bought up the majority of the editors and

proprietors; yet, not being able to do this wholly, the opposition

spoke bitter things to him and of him, and damaged his cause seriously.

He called on Siéyès, Carnot, and Fouché to assist in framing his

constitution; and he gave peerages to Carnot and Siéyès, and those once

stern Republicans accepted them. But, even with their aid, he could not

bring himself to grant a free constitution. Nobody believed him to be

sincere even in what he did give. The police were as strict as ever,

and yet every night the walls of Paris were covered with proclamations

of Louis XVIII., forbidding the payment of taxes, and announcing the

approach of one million two hundred thousand men.

The very _Dames des Halles_, the market women, took up the word against

them. They sang a song with much vivacity, "_Donnez-nous notre paire de

gants_,"--equivalent in pronunciation to _notre père de Ghent_, that

is, Louis, who was then residing at Ghent. None but the very lowest

of the population retained the old illusions respecting him. In such

circumstances, not even his new Constitution could satisfy anybody. It

was very much the same as Louis XVIII. had sworn to in 1814. It granted

free election of the House of Representatives, which was to be renewed

every five years; the members were to be paid; land and other taxes

were to be voted once a year; ministers were to be responsible; juries,

right of petition, freedom of worship, inviolability of property,

were all established. But Buonaparte destroyed the value of these

concessions by publishing this, not as a new Constitution, but as "an

additional Act" to his former Constitution. The word "additional" meant

everything, for it proclaimed that all the despotic decrees preceding

this fresh declaration were still in force, and thus it neutralised or

reduced these concessions to a mere burlesque.

[Illustration: SIR THOMAS PICTON.

(_From the Painting by Sir M. A. Shee, P.R.A._)]

Napoleon, however, called his _Champ-de-Mai_ together for the electors

to this anomalous document; but, to add to the incongruity, the

assembly was held in the _Champ-de-Mars_, and not in May at all, but on

the 1st of June. There he and his brothers, even Lucien, who had been

wiled back to his assistance, figured in fantastic robes as emperor and

princes of the blood, and the electors swore to the Constitution; but

the whole was a dead and dreary fiasco. On the 4th the two Chambers,

that of Peers and that of Representatives, met. The Peers, who were his

own officers and picked men, readily agreed to the Constitution; but

not so the Chamber of Representatives. They chose Lanjuinais president,

who had been a zealous advocate of Louis XVI., and who had drawn up the

list of crimes under which Buonaparte's forfeiture had been pronounced

in 1814. They entered into a warm discussion on the propriety of

abolishing all titles of honour in that Chamber. They rejected a

proposition to bestow on Napoleon the title of Saviour of his Country,

and they severely criticised the "additional Act," declaring that "the

nation would entertain no plans of aggrandisement; that not even the

will of a victorious prince should lead them beyond the boundaries of

self-defence." In this state of things Buonaparte was compelled to

depart, leaving the refractory chamber to discuss the articles of his

new Constitution.

Napoleon was at Vervins, on the 12th of June, with his Guard, and on

the 14th he had joined five divisions of infantry and four of cavalry

at Beaumont. The triple line of strong fortresses on the Belgian

frontiers enabled him to assemble his forces unobserved by the Allies,

whilst he was perfectly informed by spies of their arrangements.

Wellington had arrived at Brussels, and had thrown strong garrisons

into Ostend, Antwerp, Nieuwport, Ypres, Tournay, Mons, and Ath. He had

about thirty thousand British, but not his famous Peninsular troops,

who had been sent to America. Yet he had the celebrated German legion,

eight thousand strong, which had won so many laurels in Spain; fifteen

thousand Hanoverians; five thousand Brunswickers, under their brave

duke, the hereditary mortal foe of Napoleon; and seventeen thousand

men, Belgians, Dutch, and troops of Nassau, under the Prince of Orange.

Doubts were entertained of the trustworthiness of the Belgians, who

had fought under Napoleon, and who had shown much discontent of late;

and Napoleon confidently calculated on them, and had Belgian officers

with him to lead them when they should come over to him. But, on the

whole, the Belgians behaved well; for, like all others, their country

had felt severely the tyranny of Napoleon. Altogether, Wellington's

army amounted to about seventy-five thousand men. He occupied

with his advanced division, under the Prince of Orange, Enghien,

Braine-le-Comte, and Nivelles; with his second, under Lord Hill, Hal,

Oudenarde, and Grammont; and with his reserve, under Picton, Brussels

and Ghent. What he had most to complain of was the very defective

manner in which he had been supplied with cannon on so momentous an

occasion, being able to muster only eighty-four pieces of artillery,

though he had applied for a hundred and fifty, and though there were

cannons enough at Woolwich to have supplied the whole of the Allied

armies.

Blucher's headquarters were at Namur, his right extending to Charleroi,

near the left of Wellington, and his left and reserves covering Gevil

and Liége. His force amounted to eighty thousand men, supplied with two

hundred cannon. On the 15th Buonaparte addressed his army, telling them

that the enemies arrayed against them were the same that they had so

often beaten, and whom they must beat again if they were the men they

had been. "Madmen!" he exclaimed, "the moment of prosperity has blinded

them. The oppression and humiliation of the French people are beyond

their power. If they enter France they will there find their tomb!"

This address had such an effect that the French advanced with all the

spirit of their former days. They swept the western bank of the Sambre

of the Prussian outposts; they advanced to Charleroi, drove out the

Prussians under Ziethen, and compelled them to fall back on the village

of Gosselies, and thence to Ligny and St. Amand. It was now seen that

the object of Buonaparte was to cut off the communication between the

Prussians and British, and defeat the Prussians first, instead of

having to fight the two armies at once. To complete this Ney had been

dispatched to attack and drive back the British advance at Quatre Bras

and Frasnes; but, hearing firing in the direction of Charleroi, which

was the engagement with Ziethen, he sent a division to support the

French there, and thus found his main body too weak to move the British

at Quatre Bras. For doing this without orders, Buonaparte reprimanded

Ney, as he afterwards did Grouchy for too implicitly following his

orders in pursuit of Blucher.

The Duke of Wellington was informed, at Brussels, on the same day, of

this attack of Napoleon on the Prussians at Ligny, and of the British

advance, under the Prince of Orange, at Quatre Bras. It has been said

that he was taken by surprise. Quite the contrary. He was waiting in

the most suitable position for the movement of Buonaparte. This was

announced to him by a Prussian officer of high rank, said to be Baron

Müffling, who arrived at half-past one at his hotel in Brussels.

Wellington immediately dispatched orders to all the cantonments of his

army to break up and concentrate on Quatre Bras, his intention being

that his whole force should be there by eleven o'clock the next night,

Friday, the 16th. At three o'clock his Grace sat down to dinner, and

it was at first proposed that notice should be sent to the Duchess of

Richmond to put off a ball which she was going to give at her hotel

that evening; but, on further consideration, it was concluded to let

the ball proceed, and that the Duke and his officers should attend it,

as though nothing was about to occur, by which the great inconvenience

of having the whole city in confusion during their preparations for

departure would be avoided. Accordingly, every officer received orders

to quit the ball-room, and as quietly as possible, at ten o'clock, and

proceed to his respective division _en route_. This arrangement was

carried out, and the Duke himself remained at the ball till twelve

o'clock, and left Brussels the next morning (April 16) at six o'clock

for Quatre Bras. Such were the facts which gave rise to the widespread

report that the Duke knew nothing of the attack of Napoleon till

the thunder of his cannon was heard by the Duke of Brunswick in the

ball-room.

Wellington arrived early in the forenoon at Quatre Bras, and then

rode to Brie, to consult with Blucher. It appeared as if it was the

intention of Buonaparte to bear down with his whole force on Blucher;

and though Bulow's division, stationed between Liége and Hainault,

was too far off to arrive in time, Blucher resolved to stand battle;

and it was agreed that Wellington should, if possible, march to his

assistance, and _vice versâ_, should the attack be on Wellington.

Ney, with a division of forty-five thousand, attacked the British at

Quatre Bras and Frasnes, whilst Napoleon directed the rest of his

force on Blucher at Ligny, and General D'Erlon lay with ten thousand

men near Marchiennes, to act in favour of either French force, as

might be required. Buonaparte did not attack Blucher till about three

o'clock, and then he continued the battle with the utmost fury for

two hours along his whole line. Buonaparte, finding that he could not

break the Prussian line, sent for the division of D'Erlon, and then,

contriving to get into the rear of Blucher's position at Ligny, threw

the Prussians into disorder. Blucher made a desperate charge, at the

head of his cavalry, to repel the French, but his horse was killed

under him; and the French cuirassiers galloped over him, a Prussian

officer having flung a cloak over him. He escaped with his life, and,

remounting, led the retreat towards Tilly. The loss of the French in

this battle is stated by General Gourgaud at seven thousand, but is

supposed to exceed ten thousand. The Prussians admit the loss of as

many, but the French declared that they lost fifteen thousand. It

was, however, a severe blow for the Allies; and had Ney managed to

defeat Wellington, the consequences would have been momentous. But

Ney found that the British had evacuated Frasnes that morning, and

lay across four roads at Quatre Bras--one leading to St. Amand, the

Prussian position. On another, leading from Charleroi to Brussels, was

a wood, called the Bois de Bossu; and here the attack commenced on

the Belgians. The wood was sharply contested, and about three o'clock

the Belgians were driven out by the French, who, in their turn, were

expelled by the British Guards. The battle then became general and

severe, the 42nd Highlanders suffering greatly. Ney endeavoured to

cut through the British by a furious charge of cavalry; but this

was repelled by such a deadly fire as heaped the causeway with men

and horses. Ney then sent for the division of D'Erlon, but that had

been already summoned by Buonaparte. The battle was continued till

it was dark, and the British remained on the field, hoping that the

Prussians had also maintained their ground, and that they might form a

junction in the morning. But the Prussians had retreated in the night

to Wavre, about six leagues in the rear of Ligny, and had gone off in

such silence that Napoleon was not even aware of it. But Wellington

was aware of it, and, on the morning of the 17th, began a retreat also

on Waterloo, where he and Blucher had concerted to form a junction

and give battle. Blucher had made his retreat so artfully, that the

French were at a loss to know which way he had taken. It appeared as

if he had directed his march for Namur, and about three o'clock on

the 17th Grouchy received orders to pursue Blucher, wherever he might

have gone. This dispatch of Grouchy with thirty-two thousand men to

deal with Blucher proved a serious mistake for Napoleon, who, not

having Grouchy's division to support him at the battle of Waterloo,

severely blamed him, and charged his own defeat upon him. But it was

the ungenerous practice of Buonaparte, whenever he was defeated, to

charge it upon some of his generals, even when they had been acting

most meritoriously. This he did in Russia, and this he repeated in the

retreat on Paris in 1814, and this we shall find him doing again in the

battle of Waterloo, to the undaunted and indefatigable Ney. Grouchy

has shown satisfactorily that he himself first brought to Napoleon the

news of Blucher's retreat, and requested orders to pursue him with his

cavalry, but that he could not obtain such order till noon on the 17th,

and then the order was to follow him wherever he went. We shall soon

see that Thielemann, by Blucher's orders, kept Grouchy well employed,

and took care to prevent his return to Waterloo.

[Illustration: WATERLOO VIEWS.]

[Illustration: QUATRE BRAS.

FROM THE PAINTING BY VEREKER M HAMILTON, R.E.]

[Illustration: MARSHAL BLUCHER. (_From the Portrait by Sir Thomas

Lawrence, P.R.A._)]

Napoleon, finding Blucher gone, turned his attentions to Wellington,

expecting to find him still at Quatre Bras; but, as we have said, the

Duke was now on his retreat to Waterloo. Buonaparte dispatched his

cavalry in hot haste after him, and they came up with his rear at

Genappe, where the British had to pass through a narrow street, and

over a narrow bridge across the Dyle. There the French came with such

impetus that they threw the light cavalry into confusion; but the heavy

dragoons soon rode back, and drove the French with such effect before

them, that they made no further interruption of the march. Without

an enemy at their rear the march was repugnant enough to the soldiers.

British soldiers abominate anything like a retreat. They had heard of

the defeat of the Prussians at Ligny; and this retrograde movement

looked too much of the same character to please them. Besides, it was

raining torrents all the way; and they had to tramp across fields up to

the knees in mud. At five in the evening, however, the Duke commanded

a halt, and took up his position on ground which thenceforth was to

be immortal. He was on the field of Waterloo! Long before this the

position had attracted his attention, and he had thought that had he

to fight a battle anywhere in that part of the country, it should be

on that ground. About two miles beyond the village of Waterloo, which

has been chosen to bear the name of this famous battle, and about a

mile beyond the hamlet of Mont St. Jean, there stretches across the

Charleroi road a ridge of some elevation. On this Wellington posted

his army, his left extending to a hamlet called La Haye, and his right

across the Nivelles road, to a village and ravine called Braine Merbes.

These two roads united in the highway to Brussels, just behind the

hamlet of Mont St. Jean, and close behind the centre of Wellington's

position was the farm of Mont St. Jean; a little below his centre, on

the Charleroi road or causeway, leading through Genappe to Quatre Bras,

whence they had come, was another farmhouse, called La Haye Sainte. On

Wellington's right, but down in the valley near the Nivelles road, lay

an old château, with its walled orchard, and a wood beyond it, called

Hougomont--a contraction of Château-Gomont. Below this position ran

a valley, and from it ascended opposite other rising grounds, chiefly

open cornfields; and along this ascent, at about half a mile distant,

Buonaparte posted his army, shutting in by his right the château of

Hougomont, and commanding it from the high ground. Nearly opposite to

Wellington's centre stood a farmhouse, enclosed in its orchards, called

La Belle Alliance. There Buonaparte took his stand, and kept it during

all the fight--each commander being able to view the whole field. Close

behind Wellington the ground again descended towards Mont St. Jean,

which gave a considerable protection to his reserves, and kept them

wholly out of the observation of the French. To make the situation of

Wellington`s army clear, we have only to say that behind the village of

Waterloo extended the beech wood of Soigne along the road to Brussels

for the greater part of the way.

When Buonaparte, early in the morning of the 18th, mounted his horse to

reconnoitre Wellington's position, he was rejoiced to observe so few

troops; for many were hidden behind the height on which Wellington took

his stand. One of his staff suggested that Wellington would be joined

by Blucher; but so wholly ignorant was Napoleon of the settled plan

of the two generals that he scouted the idea. "Blucher," he said, "is

defeated. He cannot rally for three days. I have seventy-five thousand

men: the English only fifty thousand. The town of Brussels awaits

me with open arms. The English opposition waits but for my success

to raise their heads. Then adieu subsidies and farewell coalition!"

And, looking again at the small body of troops visible, he exclaimed,

in exultation, "I have them there at last, these English!" General

Foy, who had had ample experience of "these English" in Spain, said,

"Wellington never shows his troops; but, if he be yonder, I must warn

your majesty that the English infantry, in close fighting, is the very

devil!" And Soult, who had felt the strength of that infantry too

often, confirmed Foy's assertion.

Wellington was quite prepared for the fiercest attack of Buonaparte.

Notwithstanding his loss at Quatre Bras, he had still about sixty-eight

thousand men, though the British portion did not exceed thirty-five

thousand; and Buonaparte, as he had stated, had about seventy thousand,

but most of them of the very best troops of France, whilst few of

Wellington's army had been under fire before, and some of the Belgians

and Hanoverians were of very inferior quality. In point of cannon,

Buonaparte had more than double the number that Wellington had. But

the Duke informed Blucher that he should make a stand here, and the

brave old Marshal replied to Wellington's request of a detachment of

Prussians to support him, that he would be there with his main army.

Wellington therefore expected the arrival of the Prussians about noon;

but though they lay only about twelve miles off, the difficulties of

the route over the heights of Chapelle-Lambert, and the occupation of

part of Wavre by the French division under Grouchy, prevented their

advance under Bulow from reaching the field till half-past four.

Wellington, however, rested in confident expectation of the support of

the Prussians and of their numerous cannon.

Buonaparte posted himself in his centre, near the farmhouse of La Belle

Alliance, having Ney and Soult near him, but Counts Reille and D'Erlon

being in immediate command of the centre. His left, which stretched

round the château of Hougomont, was commanded by his brother Jerome;

his right by Count Lobau. Wellington took his post on the ridge near

where the great mound of the dead surmounted by the Belgian lion now

stands. His troops were divided into two lines; the right of the first

line--consisting of British, Hanoverian, and Belgian troops--under Lord

Hill. The centre, under the Prince of Orange, consisted of troops of

Brunswick and Nassau, flanked on the right by the Guards under General

Cooke, and on the left by the division of the Hanoverian general Alten.

The left wing consisted of the divisions of Picton, Lambert, and Kemp.

The second line consisted of troops in which less confidence was

placed, or which had suffered severely at Quatre Bras on the 16th. In

and around the farmhouse of La Haye Sainte, in advance of the centre,

was placed a body of Germans. The plan of each commander was simple:

Wellington's, to keep his ground till Blucher should come up, and then

all simultaneously charge forward to drive the French from the field;

Napoleon's, by his brisk and ponderous charges to break and disperse

the British before the Prussians could arrive.

[Illustration:

_By permission of Messrs. S. Hildesheimer & Co., Ld._

_Reproduced by André & Sleigh. Ld., Bushey, Herts._

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO: FRENCH CUIRASSIERS CHARGING A BRITISH SQUARE.

FROM THE PAINTING BY P. JAZET.]

It was not till between eleven and twelve o'clock on the morning of

Sunday, the 18th of June, that this terrible conflict commenced; for

the troops of Napoleon had not yet all reached the ground, having

suffered from the tempests of wind and rain equally with the Allies.

The rain had now ceased, but the morning was gloomy and lowering. The

action opened by a brisk cannonade on the house and wood of Hougomont,

which were held by the troops of Nassau. These were driven out; but

their place was immediately taken by the British Guards under General

Byng and Colonels Home and Macdonald. A tremendous cannonade was kept

up on Hougomont by Jerome's batteries from the slopes above; and under

cover of this fire the French advanced through the wood in front of

Hougomont, but were met by a terrible fire from the British, who had

the orchard wall as a breastwork from which to assail the enemy. The

contest here was continued through the day with dreadful fury, but the

British held their ground with bull-dog tenacity. The buildings of the

farmyard and an old chapel were set fire to by the French shells; but

the British maintained their post amid the flames, and filled the wood

in front and a lane running under the orchard wall with mountains of

dead.

The fire had soon become general, and a desperate struggle was raging

along the whole line. Buonaparte threw column after column forward

against the British squares; but they were met with deadly volleys of

artillery and musketry, and reeled back amid horrible slaughter. A

desperate push was made to carry La Haye Sainte and the farm of Mont

St. Jean, on Wellington's left centre, by the cuirassiers, followed

by four columns of French infantry. The cuirassiers charged furiously

along the Genappe causeway, but were met and hurled back by the heavy

British cavalry. The four columns of infantry reached La Haye Sainte

and dispersed a body of Belgians; but Picton, advancing with Pack's

brigade, forced them back, and the British cavalry, which had repulsed

the cuirassiers, attacking them in flank, they were broken with heavy

slaughter and left two thousand prisoners and a couple of eagles behind

them. But the British, both cavalry and infantry, pursuing their

advantage too far, were in turn repulsed with great loss, and Generals

Picton and Ponsonby were killed. The French then again surrounded La

Haye Sainte, where a detachment of the German legion, falling short of

ammunition, and none being able to be conveyed to them, were literally

massacred, refusing to surrender. In a little time the French were

driven out of the farmhouses by shells.

Soon after, a resolute attack was made on the right of the British

centre by a great body of cavalry, which rode impetuously into the

front of the squares and of thirty pieces of artillery. Though cut

down in heaps, they drove the artillerymen from their guns, but these

only retreated amongst the infantry, carrying with them the implements

for serving the guns, and, the moment the infantry repelled their

assailants a little, the men were at their guns again, and renewed the

firing. The cuirassiers fought most undauntedly; they rode along the

very front of the squares, firing their pistols into them, or cutting

at them with their swords. Again and again they dashed forward to break

the squares, but in every instance were met with such a destructive

fire that they were compelled to draw off, only a mere fragment of

this fine cavalry surviving this heroic but fatal attempt. From that

time the French continued the battle chiefly by an incessant fire of

artillery along the whole line, which the British avoided in great part

by lying on their faces.

By six o'clock in the evening the Allied army had lost ten thousand

men in killed and wounded, besides a great number of the dispersed

Belgians and other foreigners of the worst class, who had run off, and

taken refuge in the wood of Soigne. But the French had suffered more

severely; they had lost fifteen thousand in killed and wounded, and had

had more than two thousand taken prisoners. At about half-past four,

too, firing had been heard on the French right, and it proved to be

the advanced division of Bulow. Grouchy had overtaken the Prussians

at Wavre, but had been stopped there by General Thielemann, by order

of Blucher, and kept from crossing the Dyle till it was too late to

prevent the march of Blucher on Waterloo; so that whilst Thielemann

was thus holding back Grouchy, who now heard the firing from Waterloo,

Blucher was on the track of his advanced division towards the great

battle-field. When Buonaparte heard the firing on the right, he

thought, or affected to think, that it was Grouchy, whom he had sent

for in haste, who was beating the Prussians; but he perceived that he

must now make one gigantic effort, or all would be lost the moment

that the main armies of the British and Prussians united. Sending,

therefore, a force to beat back Bulow, he prepared for one of those

thunderbolts which so often had saved him at the last moment. He formed

his Imperial Guard into two columns at the bottom of the declivity of

La Belle Alliance, and supporting them by four battalions of the Old

Guard, and putting Ney at their head, ordered him to break the British

squares. That splendid body of men, the French Guards, rushed forward,

for the last time, with cries of "_Vive l'Empereur!_" and Buonaparte

rode at their head as well as Ney, as far as the farm of La Haye

Sainte. There the great Corsican, who had told his army on joining it

this last campaign that he and they must now conquer or die, declined

the death by suddenly wheeling his horse aside, and there remaining,

still and stiff as a statue of stone, watching the last grand venture.

The British right at this moment was wheeling towards Buonaparte's

position, so that his Guards were received by a simultaneous fire in

front and in the flank. The British soldiers advanced from both sides,

as if to close round the French, and poured in one incessant fire,

each man independently loading and discharging his piece as fast as he

could. The French Guards endeavoured to deploy that they might renew

the charge, but under so terrible a fire they found it impossible:

they staggered, broke, and melted into a confused mass. As they rolled

wildly down the hill, the battalions of the Old Guard tried to check

the pursuing British; but at this moment Wellington, who had Maitland's

and Adams's brigades of Guards lying on their faces behind the ridge

on which he stood, gave the command to charge, and, rushing down the

hill, they swept the Old Guard before them. On seeing this, Buonaparte

exclaimed, "They are mingled together! All is lost for the present!"

and rode from the field. The battle was won. But at the same moment

Wellington ordered the advance of the whole line, and the French,

quitting every point of their position, began a hasty and confused

retreat from the field.

Buonaparte, in his bulletin of June 21st, found a reason for this utter

defeat in a panic fear that suddenly seized the army, through some

evil-disposed person raising the cry of "_Sauve qui peut!_" But Ney

denied, in his letter to the Duke of Otranto, that any such cry was

raised. Another statement made very confidently in Paris was, that the

Old Guard, being summoned to surrender, replied, "The Guard dies, but

never surrenders!"--a circumstance which never took place, though the

Guards fought with the utmost bravery.

As this rout was taking place, Bulow, who had beaten back the French

battalions from Frischermont and Planchenoit, was approaching La

Belle Alliance, and Blucher with the main army soon after appeared

following him. At a farmhouse called Maison Rouge, or Maison du Roi,

behind La Belle Alliance, the Duke of Wellington and Blucher met and

felicitated each other. Blucher, in the Continental manner, embraced

and kissed the victorious Duke; and it was agreed that, as the army

of Wellington had been fighting hard for eight hours, the Prussians

should make the pursuit. Blucher swore that he would follow the French

whilst a horse or a man could move, and, with three cheers from the

British, he set forward with his troops in chase. So far from "the

Guards dying, but not surrendering," these brave men flew now before

the stern old Prussian, and immediately in the narrow passage at

Genappe they abandoned to him sixty pieces of their cannon. Amongst

other spoil they captured the carriage of Napoleon, and found in it,

amongst other curious papers, a proclamation for publication the next

day at Brussels. As it was moonlight, the Prussians continued the

chase till late into the night, slaughtering the fugitives like sheep.

Numbers quitted the road and fled across the country, seeking shelter

in the woods, where many of them were afterwards found dead or severely

wounded. The highway, according to General Gneisenau, was covered with

cannon, caissons, carriages, baggage, arms, and property of every

kind. The wounded were humanely sent to Brussels, but those who could

continue their flight did so till they had reached France, where they

sold their horses and arms, and dispersed themselves to their homes.

The grand army was no more, with the exception of the division of

Grouchy, who made good his retreat to Paris, only to be upbraided by

Buonaparte as the cause of his defeat. In this battle and retreat the

French lost more men than at Leipsic, the killed and wounded exceeding

thirty thousand.

But the loss of the Allies had also been perfectly awful. The

Prussians, besides the great slaughter at Ligny, had been engaged in a

bloody struggle at Planchenoit, and the British and their Allies had

lost in the battle of Waterloo two thousand four hundred and thirty-two

killed, and nine thousand five hundred and twenty-eight wounded; these,

added to the numbers killed and wounded at Quatre Bras, raised the

total to fifteen thousand. Of British and Hanoverian officers alone

six hundred were killed or wounded at Waterloo. The Duke of Brunswick

fell at the head of his troops at Quatre Bras, without having the

satisfaction of witnessing the final ruin of Buonaparte. So many of

Wellington's staff were disabled that he had at one time no officer to

dispatch with a pressing order. A young Piedmontese, of the family of

De Salis, offered himself. "Were you ever in a battle before?" asked

the Duke. "No, sir," he replied. "Then," said the Duke, "you are a

lucky man, for you will never see such another." When the Duke, who

had witnessed so many bloody battles, saw the carnage of Waterloo, and

heard, one after another, the losses of so many companions in arms, he

was quite overcome. In his despatches he says: "I cannot express the

regret and sorrow with which I look round me, and contemplate the

losses that we have sustained." And again, "The losses I have sustained

have quite broken me down, and I have no feeling for the advantages we

have gained."

[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. (_See p._ 99.)]

It is scarcely worth while to attempt to expose the assertions due to

Napoleon and the mortified vanity of the French, which have declared

that Wellington made a bad choice of his battle-field, and that he

would have been beaten had not the Prussians come up. These statements

have been amply refuted by military authorities. The selection of

the field may be supposed to be a good one when it is known that

Marlborough had chosen the very same, and was only prevented from

fighting on it by the Dutch Commissioners. But no one can examine the

field without seeing its strength. Had Wellington been driven from his

position, the long villages of Mont St. Jean and Waterloo behind him,

succeeded by the beech wood of Soigne, would have enabled him to hold

the French in check for days--much more for the time sufficient for the

whole Prussian force to come up. When it is seen what resistance such

a mere farm as La Haye Sainte, or the château of Hougomont, enabled

the British to make, what would the houses, gardens, and orchards

of Mont St. Jean and Waterloo have done, stretching for two miles,

backed by the wood of Soigne--not a forest choked by underwood, but

of clear ground, from which ascended the tall, smooth boles of the

beech trees? As to the danger of being defeated had not the Prussians

come up, there was none. No advantage through the whole day had been

gained by the French, except making an entry into the court-yard of

Hougomont, and in capturing La Haye Sainte, from both of which they

had long been driven again. The cuirassiers had been completely cut up

before the arrival of the Prussians; not a square of infantry had been

broken; and when Buonaparte made his last effort--that of hurling his

Guards on the British columns--they were, according to the positive

evidence of Marshal Ney, who led them on, totally annihilated. It is

true that the Prussians had been for some time engaged on the right of

the French, and had stood their ground; but they had been terribly cut

up at Planchenoit, and they do not appear to have made much advance

till the total rout of the French by the last charge of the British.

Wellington had advanced his whole line, and was leading on the pursuit

in person when he and Blucher met on the high ground behind La Belle

Alliance--that is, beyond the very ground on which Buonaparte had

stood the whole day. The Prussians fought bravely, but they did not

affect the question of victory or defeat as it regarded the British;

they came in, however, to undertake the chase, for which the British

were too tired after standing on the field twelve hours, and fighting

desperately for eight; and they executed that chase most completely.

On the 19th of June Paris was excited by the announcements of

Buonaparte's bulletin that terrible defeats had been inflicted on the

Prussians at Ligny, and on the British at Quatre Bras. A hundred cannon

and thousands of prisoners were declared to be taken. The Imperialists

were in ecstasies; the Royalists, in spite of the notorious falsehood

of Buonaparte on such occasions, were dejected. On the 21st whispers

were busily circulating that not only had a most dreadful pitched

battle been fought, but that the fine French army which had so lately

left France was utterly annihilated or dispersed. It was soon added

that, instead of being at the head of victorious forces, as he had

represented, Buonaparte had again fled from his army, and was in the

Palace of the Elysée-Bourbon. And this last news was true. Napoleon had

never stopped in his own flight till he reached Philippevillè. There

he proposed to proceed to Grouchy, and put himself at the head of his

division; but he heard that that too was defeated, and he hurried on

to Paris, fearful of the steps that the two legislative Chambers might

take.

[Illustration: "ON THE ROAD FROM WATERLOO TO PARIS."

FROM THE PAINTING BY MARCUS STONE, A.R.A., IN THE CORPORATION OF LONDON

ART GALLERY, GUILDHALL.]

Buonaparte, seeing that nothing was to be expected from the

Chambers--for even the Peers adopted the resolutions of the

Representatives--who had already demanded his abdication--assumed the

air of the despotic emperor, and demanded of Carnot that he should

issue orders for a levy of three hundred thousand men, and should find

supplies. Carnot said both propositions were impossible. Napoleon then

summoned, on the night of the 21st, a general council, consisting of

the late Ministers, the Presidents, and Vice-Presidents of the two

Chambers, where Regnault and Maret recommended a show of resistance

whilst offering terms of peace; but Lafayette said that would only

make matters worse. The Allies were victorious, and there was but one

course for the Emperor; and Lanjuinais and Constant supported that

view. On the 22nd the Chamber of Representatives met early, and again

demanded an act of abdication. Napoleon complied, but, as on his former

abdication, only in favour of his son. The Chamber thanked him, but

took no notice of the clause in favour of Napoleon II. But Lucien

Buonaparte and Labédoyère, in violent language, pressed on the House

of Peers the recognition of Napoleon II. They persisted in passing it

quietly over; but they required Napoleon to issue a proclamation to

the army, declaring his abdication, without which the soldiers would

not believe it, and, to conciliate them, he complied. Still, fearing

lest he should put himself at the head of Grouchy's division, or some

other, though small, troublesome force, they insisted that he should

retire to Malmaison--so long the favourite abode of the repudiated

Josephine, With this, too, he complied, but immediately discovered

that he was surrounded by Guards, and was in fact a prisoner. General

Becker was appointed to have surveillance over Napoleon; and it was

supposed that, as Becker had personal cause of resentment against him,

this surveillance would be rigorous. But Becker was a man of honour;

he respected the misfortunes of a man who, whatever had been his

crimes, had made himself almost master of the world, and he treated

him with the utmost courtesy. Orders were issued by the Provisional

Government for two frigates to convey Napoleon to the United States,

and Becker was to allow of his retirement to Rochefort, in order to his

embarkation--to accompany him there, but not to permit his movement in

any other direction.

Meanwhile, the British and Prussian armies advanced, and on the 1st

of July Wellington was within a few miles of Paris, with his right on

the heights of Richebourg, and his left on the forest of Bondy; and

Blucher, at the same time, crossing the Seine on the 2nd, posted his

army, with its right at Plessis-Piquet, his left at St. Cloud, and

his reserve at Versailles. In this position, Commissioners were sent

by the Provisional Government to Wellington, desiring a suspension of

hostilities, informing him that Buonaparte had abdicated and retired

from Paris. The Duke replied, that so long as the army remained in

Paris there could be no suspension of hostilities, and that he had no

authority to treat on any question of government. The Commissioners

demanded whether the Allies would stop if Napoleon II. was proclaimed?

Wellington said "No." Whether they would stop provided they chose

another prince of a royal house?--probably meaning the Duke of Orleans.

As the Duke said he had no orders to accept any such proposals,

they were useless, and he handed to them the proclamation of Louis

XVIII., offering to grant constitutional liberties, and to pardon all

offenders, excepting a few who had committed the most recent and

aggravated treason. These were supposed to mean Ney, Labédoyère, and

some others. Wellington offered, however, to remain where he was on

condition that the regular troops should be sent beyond the Loire,

and the town be held by the National Guard till the king's arrival.

The Commissioners did not comply with this demand; and the necessity

of such compliance was sufficiently shown by this army disputing the

advance of the Prussians on the 2nd of July. They had resisted Blucher

at St. Cloud, Meudon, and in the village of Issy. Blucher succeeded,

but with considerable loss; and the next day the French made another

attack to recover Issy, but without effect.

Wellington was therefore on the point of entering Paris when, on the

same day, the 3rd, he received a flag of truce from the Provisional

Government, asking for a military convention between the armies at St.

Cloud. This was accepted, and one English and one Prussian officer

met three French officers, and the convention was concluded by the

agreement that the French army should retire behind the river Loire,

and that the Allies should be put in peaceable possession of Paris,

with all the defences on the Montmartre side of the city, as well as

every other. This convention was signed the next day by Wellington,

Blucher, and Davoust, and, according to its stipulation, the French

troops evacuated Paris, and marched towards the Loire. Ney and

Labédoyère made their exit from the city, knowing that they would be

arrested by Louis XVIII., if possible.

On the 7th of July the British and Prussian forces entered Paris. The

former encamped themselves in the Bois de Boulogne, and the Prussians

bivouacked along the Seine. There they came into full view of the

Bridge of Jena, so named to commemorate the victory of Buonaparte on

that field, so fatal to the Prussians, and of the column in the Place

Vendôme, erected with cannon taken from the Austrians, and bearing

insulting mementoes of the defeats of Prussia. The Prussians had

already lowered the statue of Napoleon from the top of the column, and

were beginning to demolish the bridge, when the Duke of Wellington

interfered. He represented that, although these objects were justly

offensive to Prussia, they ought to be left to the decision of the

King of France, in whose capital they were, and that the name of the

bridge might be changed. Blucher was unwilling to give way, and also

insisted on the levy of a military contribution on the city of Paris of

one hundred million francs, as some reparation for the spoliations of

the French in Berlin. Wellington suggested that these matters should

be left for the determination of the Allied sovereigns, and at length

prevailed.

The next day, the 8th of July, Louis a second time entered his capital,

escorted by the National Guard. Fouché announced to the two Chambers

that their functions were at an end; but they still declared themselves

sitting in permanence. But General Desolles, commander of the National

Guard, proceeded to close the Chambers. He found both of them deserted,

and locked the doors, and put his seal upon them, setting also a guard.

Soon afterwards the members of the Chamber of Representatives, who

had only adjourned, began to arrive, but were received with jeers by

the Guards, which were eagerly joined in by the populace, and they

retreated in confusion. Fouché, in reward for his politic private

correspondence with the Allies, was reinstated in his old office of

Minister of Police, and the government of Louis recommenced in great

quiet--affording the French much more real liberty than they had

enjoyed either under Buonaparte or the factions of the Revolution. And

thus ended the celebrated Hundred Days from the landing of Napoleon to

his second exclusion.

Buonaparte had arrived in Rochefort on the 3rd of July--only fifteen

days after the battle of Waterloo. The two frigates provided by the

Provisional Government to convey him to America--the _Saale_ and the

_Medusa_, accompanied by the corvette _Balladière_ and the large brig

_Epervier_--lay in the Aix roads; but Buonaparte was very sure that

the British Government would not permit them to sail. That Government,

anticipating such an event as the endeavour of Napoleon to make his

escape to America--whence he might watch his opportunity of once

more renewing the troubles of the world--had, immediately after the

battle of Waterloo, placed no less than thirty vessels of different

descriptions along the whole coast of France, from Ushant to Cape

Finisterre, thus making it impossible for any vessel to pass out of a

French port without undergoing the severest search. Napoleon thereupon

embarking in a British frigate, the _Bellerophon_, wrote a theatrical

letter, claiming the hospitality of the Prince Regent:--

"Rochefort, July 13th, 1815.

"Royal Highness,--A victim to the factions which distract my country,

and to the enmity of the greatest Powers of Europe, I have terminated

my political career, and I come, like Themistocles, to throw myself

on the hospitality of the British people. I put myself under the

protection of their laws, which I claim from your Royal Highness, as

the most powerful, the most constant, and the most generous of my

enemies.

"NAPOLEON."

This note contained much that was not true. It implied that Buonaparte

had come voluntarily and without necessity on board the _Bellerophon_,

whilst it was well known that perhaps another hour would have been

too late to secure him from seizure by the officers of Louis, king of

France. He affected to claim the protection of British laws, when he

was a notoriously proclaimed outlaw, so proclaimed by the whole of

the Allied Powers for the breach of his solemn engagement to renounce

all claims on the throne of France. There was, therefore, no answer

whatever to that note from the Prince Regent, who was under engagement

to his Allies, as they to him, to hold no communication with a man

who had so shamefully broken his word, and had, moreover, thereby

sacrificed so many valuable lives. The reply was from Lord Melville,

First Lord of the Admiralty, announcing to him that the British

Government, with the approbation of its Allies, had determined that,

to prevent any further opportunity for the disturbance of the peace of

Europe by General Buonaparte, he should be sent to St. Helena; that

they had been guided in this choice, not only by the desire of his

security, but also by the consideration that the island was extremely

healthy, and would afford him much greater liberty than he could enjoy

in a nearer locality; and that he might select three officers, with

his surgeon, and twelve domestics to attend him. From the number of

the officers Savary and Lallemand were expressly excepted. It also

added that the persons permitted to accompany him would be subject to

a certain degree of restraint, and would not be permitted to leave

the island without the sanction of the British Government. It was

finally added that General Buonaparte should make no delay in the

selection of his suite, as Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, appointed

to the command of the Cape of Good Hope, would convey him in the

_Northumberland_ to St. Helena, and would be presently ready to sail.

Napoleon left Plymouth Sound on the 5th of August, and died at St.

Helena on May 5th, 1821, having spent his last years in quarrelling

with his gaoler, Sir Hudson Lowe, and in an elaborate attempt to

falsify history.

[Illustration: JAMESTOWN, ST. HELENA.]

The war in America, amid the absorbing momentousness of the gigantic

conflict in Europe, went on with little attention from Ministers at

home, and, consequently, with the results which seem destined to attend

Britain's campaigns in that quarter. In Canada, which the Americans

were particularly anxious to obtain, there was a most meagre and

inadequate British force; and, what was much worse, the Ministry still

continued there the incompetent governor, Sir George Prevost. The only

circumstances to which Britain owed the preservation of those provinces

were the loyalty of the people and the sterling bravery of the handful

of soldiers. Early in the year 1813 the American general, Dearborn,

suddenly approached York, on Lake Ontario, and attacked it, supported

by the flotilla under command of Commodore Chauncey. The British had

about seven hundred men there, partly regulars, partly militia, with

some few Indians. General Sheaffe drew off the main part of his force,

and left the rest to capitulate, abandoning a considerable quantity of

military and other stores, which were most desirable for the Americans.

The British Government ought to have taken care to have had a fleet on

the lakes, but this had been neglected, so that the Americans could

not be prevented from bearing down on any point of the lake frontiers.

Dearborn, having a strong flotilla, embarked the stores he won at

York and sailed for Niagara, where he landed at Fort George, with six

thousand infantry, two hundred and fifty cavalry, and a good train

of artillery. The British there, under Vincent, were not a fourth of

the enemy. Vincent, therefore, after some gallant fighting, retired

up the strait to Burlington Bay, about fifty miles from Fort George,

and, collecting the little garrisons from Fort Erie and other points,

found himself at the head of about one thousand six hundred men, and

resolved to make a stand. Dearborn, rendered confident by his great

superiority of numbers, marched after him, and, on the 4th of June, was

seen approaching the British position. He encamped about five miles

from Vincent, with three thousand five hundred men and nine pieces of

artillery. He intended to attack the next morning, but in this he was

forestalled; for Colonel Harvey reconnoitred his camp, and advised

General Vincent to assault it at midnight with fixed bayonets. This was

done, and though the attacking party numbered only seven hundred and

four men, the Americans fled in all directions, leaving two generals,

one hundred prisoners, and four pieces of artillery in their hands.

Colonel Harvey, who had headed the charge, returned to the British camp

loaded with booty. It was expected that, in the morning, when Dearborn

ascertained the inferior force of British, he would renew the fight;

but after destroying provisions and stores, to facilitate his flight,

he decamped, and only halted eleven miles off, where he met with strong

reinforcements.

About the same time Sir James Yeo, who had dared to attack the superior

squadron of Commodore Chauncey on Lake Ontario, and took two of his

schooners, now prevailed on the spiritless Sir George Prevost to

join him in an attack on Sacketts Harbour. Here the Americans had a

dockyard, where they built vessels for the lake fleet, and had now

a frigate nearly ready for launching. Sir George consented, but, on

reconnoitring the place, his heart failed him, and he returned across

the water towards Kingston. Sir James was highly chagrined, but

prevailed on this faint-hearted governor to make the attempt. Seven

hundred and fifty men were landed, who drove the Americans at the point

of the bayonet from the harbour, and set fire to the new frigate,

to a gun-brig, and to the naval barracks and arsenal abounding with

stores. Some of the Americans were in full flight into the woods, and

others shut themselves up in log barracks, whence they could soon have

been burnt out. In the midst of this success the miserable Sir George

Prevost commanded a retreat. Men and officers, astonished at the order,

and highly indignant at serving under so dastardly a commander, were,

however, obliged to draw off. The Americans, equally amazed, turned

back to endeavour to extinguish the flames. The arsenal, the brig, and

the stores were too far gone; but the new frigate, being built of green

wood, had refused to burn, and they recovered it but little injured.

Thus, however, was lost the chance of crushing the American superiority

on the lake, which must have been the case had Sacketts Harbour been

completely destroyed.

Sir James Yeo, greatly disappointed, put Sir George Prevost and his

troops over to Kingston again, and then proceeded to the head of the

lake, to reinforce General Vincent. Dearborn, as soon as he heard

of this junction, fled along the lake shore to Fort George, where he

shut himself up in a strongly-entrenched camp with about five thousand

men. There Vincent, however, determined to attack him, but once more

he was met by the curse of an incompetent appointment. Major-General

Rottenburg had been made Governor of Upper Canada, and assumed the

command over the brave Vincent, only to do nothing.

The western extremity of Lake Erie was the scene of a most unequal

contest at the commencement of 1813. Colonel Procter lay near

Frenchtown, about twenty miles from Detroit, with about five hundred

troops, partly regulars, partly militia and sailors. In addition,

he was supported by about the same number of Red Indians. The

Americans, under General Winchester--an old officer of the War of

Independence--amounted to one thousand two hundred men. With these

Winchester had scoured the Michigan country, and, at the end of

January, advanced to attack Procter. Sir George Prevost had commanded

Procter to act on the defensive; but scorning this cowardly advice, he

suddenly advanced by night, as the Americans had quartered themselves

in Frenchtown, surprised, and captured or destroyed the whole of them,

except about thirty who escaped into the woods. Winchester himself was

seized by Round Head, the Indian chief, who arrayed himself in his

uniform, and then delivered him up to Colonel Procter. From this point

Colonel Procter hastened to cross the lake in a flotilla, and attack

General Harrison at Fort Meigs. He knew that Harrison was expecting

strong reinforcements, and he was anxious to dislodge him before they

arrived. Procter had with him one thousand men, half regulars, half

militia, and one thousand two hundred Indians; but Harrison's force

was much stronger, and defended by a well-entrenched camp. Procter

erected batteries, and fired across the river Miami, endeavouring to

destroy the American block-houses with red-hot shot, but they were of

wood too green to take fire. On the 5th of May Harrison's expected

reinforcements came down the river in boats, one thousand three hundred

strong. Harrison now commenced acting on the offensive, to aid the

disembarkation of the troops; but he was defeated by Procter, who

routed the whole of the new forces, under General Clay, took five

hundred and fifty prisoners, and killed as many more. But his success

had its disadvantage. His Indian allies, loaded with booty, returned

to the Detroit frontier, and the Canadian militia to their farms.

Procter was compelled, therefore, to leave Harrison in his camp, and

return also to Detroit, for Sir George Prevost had provided him with

no new militia, or other force, to supply the place of those gone.

Still worse, Prevost could not even be prevailed on to send sailors to

man the few British vessels on Lake Erie, where the American flotilla

was now far superior to the British one. In vain did Captain Barclay,

who commanded the little squadron, urge Prevost to send him sailors,

or the few vessels must be captured or destroyed; in vain did Colonel

Procter urge, too, the necessity of this measure. Sir George, who

took care to keep out of harm's way himself, sent taunting messages

to Captain Barclay, telling him that the quality of his men made up

for the inferiority of numbers, and that he ought to fight. Barclay,

who was as brave a man as ever commanded a vessel, and had lost an

arm in the service, but who did not pretend to do impossibilities,

was now, however, stung to give battle. He had three hundred and

fifty-six men--few of whom were experienced seamen--and forty-six guns

of very inferior description. The American commodore, Percy, had five

hundred and eighty men, and fifty-four guns, with picked crews on

all his vessels. Barclay fought till he had taken Percy's ship, and

lost his remaining arm. In the end the British vessels were compelled

to strike, but not till they had lost, in killed and wounded, one

hundred and thirty-five men, and had killed and wounded one hundred

and twenty-three of the Americans. This success enormously elated the

Americans, and they now confidently calculated on defeating Procter,

and annexing Upper Canada. Harrison made haste to interpose nearly six

thousand men between Procter--who had now only five hundred, and as

many Indians--and the country on which he was endeavouring to retreat.

The forces of Procter were compelled to give ground, and Harrison

inflicted a severe revenge on the Indians, for their slaughter of the

Americans at Meigs. The chief, Tecumseh, being killed, they flayed him,

and cut up his skin into razor-straps, as presents to the chief men of

the Congress, and Mr. Clay is said to have boasted the possession of

one of these. The American armies now put themselves on the track for

Kingston and Montreal. Harrison marched along the shore of Lake Erie

with upwards of five thousand men, and General Wilkinson, with ten

thousand more, crossed Lake Ontario, towards Kingston, to join him.

General Hampton, at the same time also, was marching on Montreal. Sir

George Prevost was in the utmost alarm, and sent orders to General

Vincent to fall down to Kingston, leaving exposed all Upper Canada.

But as General Rottenburg was moving on Kingston, Vincent, who was now

joined by the remainder of Procter's force, determined to disobey these

orders; and several general officers confirmed him in this resolution,

and offered to share the responsibility. This was the salvation of

Upper Canada. The three American generals were attacked and routed. The

Canadian militia did good service, and the Americans were completely

driven out of both Upper and Lower Canada before winter. In their

retreat they grew brutal, and committed savage cruelties on the unarmed

population. They burnt down the town of Newark, near Fort George,

driving about four hundred women and children out of it into the snow.

They destroyed various villages in their route. This ferocity excited

the British and Canadians to retaliation. Colonel Murray crossed the

water, and pursued them in their own territories. He attacked and

carried Fort Niagara, killed or made prisoners of the whole garrison,

and captured the arms and stores. General Hull came up, with two

thousand men, to check the march of Murray, who with one thousand

regulars and militia, and between three and four hundred Indians, on

the 30th of December, repulsed him with great slaughter, pursued him,

and--to avenge the poor Canadians--set fire to Buffalo and the village

of Black Rock. The whole of that frontier was thus left defenceless.

Whilst these operations were going on the British blockading squadrons

rode in every American port and completely obstructed all commerce.

Their vessels ascended many of the rivers, especially the Chesapeake

and its tributaries. At the end of June Sir S. Beckwith landed, from

the squadron of Admiral Cockburn, at Hampton, in Virginia, where the

Americans had a fortified camp, and drove them out of it, and captured

all their batteries. In the following month Admiral Cockburn visited

the coasts of North Carolina and seized the islands, towns, and ports

of Portsmouth and Ocracoke. The complaints of the Americans of the

miseries of this state of blockade began very unpleasantly to reach the

ears of President Madison.

In the spring of 1814 the Americans made a fresh attempt to invade

Canada. Wilkinson, who had retreated so precipitately the preceding

autumn, was the first to cross the frontier; but he was repulsed and

pursued to Sacketts Harbour, where he took refuge. The British burned

some of his block-houses and barracks, and carried off great quantities

of stores. In April General Drummond, being put across Lake Ontario by

Sir James Yeo's squadron, stormed Fort Oswego, destroyed it, and burnt

the barracks. In May the British were not so successful in intercepting

some naval stores which the Americans were conveying to Sacketts

Harbour. They were repulsed with loss. At the beginning of July the

American general, Brown, crossed the Niagara with a strong force,

attacked and took Fort Erie, and advanced into Canada. General Riall

attempted to stop him at Chippeway, with an insufficient force, and

was compelled to retreat to near Fort Niagara. There he was reinforced

by General Drummond, with a detachment of the troops recently landed

from the army of the Peninsula. Riall and Drummond had now about three

thousand men, and Brown had five thousand. A severe battle was fought,

almost close to the cataract of Niagara, where the veteran Peninsular

men defeated Brown, killing and wounding one thousand five hundred of

his troops, but having six hundred killed and wounded themselves. They

pursued Brown to Chippeway, and thence to Erie. There Drummond rashly

attempted the reduction of the fort with his inferior numbers, and was

repulsed with loss.

Sir George Prevost now put himself at the head of the brave troops that

had so lately advanced from conquest to conquest under Wellington. He

had eleven thousand of these brave fellows, including a fine regiment

of cavalry, and a numerous train of artillery. With such an army, an

able general would not only have cleared the whole frontier of Canada,

but would have inflicted a severe chastisement on the Americans in

their own territory. The great object to be accomplished was the

destruction of Sacketts Harbour, with which must fall at once the whole

naval power of America on Lake Ontario. Every military man expected

that this would be done; but Sir George, after waiting in a camp at

Chamblay, advanced to Plattsburg Harbour, on Lake Champlain. But there

he would do nothing till the American flotilla, which lay in the

harbour, was also attacked. For this purpose Captain Downie was sent

by Sir James Yeo from the Ontario squadron suddenly to take command of

a squadron of a few ships and a miscellaneous naval force, as hastily

mustered and knowing little of each other--Downie knowing only one

of his officers. The ship which he commanded was just launched, was

unfinished, and everything was in confusion: yet in this condition, Sir

George Prevost insisted on their going into action against a superior

and well-prepared American squadron, promising to make a simultaneous

attack on the harbour and defences on land. Downie commenced the attack

on the water, but found no co-operation from Sir George on shore, who

stood still till he had seen Downie killed, and the unequal British

vessels, three in number, fairly battered to pieces, and compelled to

strike. And, after all, Sir George never did commence the attack on the

fort with that fine army, which would have carried it in ten minutes,

but marched back again, amid the inconceivable indignation of officers

and men, who could not comprehend why they should be condemned to obey

the orders of so disgraceful a poltroon. On their march, or rather

retreat, they were insulted by the wondering Americans, and abandoned

vast quantities of stores, ammunition, and provisions. The loss of

men during this scandalous expedition was not more than two hundred;

but eight hundred veterans--who had been accustomed to very different

scenes, under a very different commander--in their resentment at his

indignity went over to the enemy. In fact, had this unhappy general

continued longer in command, the whole British force would have become

thoroughly demoralised.

The officers who had served under Prevost had too long withheld their

remonstrances, expecting that the British Government would see plainly

enough the wretched incompetence of the man. But now Sir James Yeo made

a formal and plain-spoken charge against him, and especially for his

wicked abandonment of Captain Downie and his squadron to destruction.

He was recalled; but it was too late: a natural death had, in the

meantime, rescued him from that punishment which he so richly deserved.

It could not, however, rescue him from the disgrace which must hang on

his memory so long as the history of these transactions remains.

In September the Americans in Fort Erie, being strongly reinforced,

and elated by their repulse of General Drummond, marched out and made

an attack on the British lines. General de Watteville received them

with such effect that they rapidly fell back on Fort Erie and, no

longer feeling themselves safe even there, they evacuated the fort,

demolished its works, and retreated altogether from the shore of Upper

Canada. When the news of peace, which had been concluded in December of

this year, arrived in the spring, before the commencement of military

operations--though thirty thousand men at a time had invaded the

Canadian frontiers, and Hampton, Wilkinson, and Harrison had all been

marching in the direction of Kingston and Montreal simultaneously,

the British were in possession of their fortress of Niagara, and of

Michilimakinac, the key of the Michigan territory; and they had nothing

to give in exchange but the defenceless shore of the Detroit. They

had totally failed in their grand design on Canada, and had lost--in

killed, wounded, and prisoners--nearly fifty thousand men, besides vast

quantities of stores and ammunition. In short, they had incurred an

expenditure quite heavy enough to deter them from lightly attacking the

Canadas again.

[Illustration: NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE "BELLEROPHON." (_From the Picture

by W. Q. Orchardson, R. A._)]

In July, 1814, whilst the struggles were going on upon the Canadian

frontiers, the British projected an expedition against the very capital

of the United States. This was carried into execution about the middle

of August. Sir Alexander Cochrane landed General Ross, and a strong

body of troops, on the banks of the Patuxent, and accompanied them in a

flotilla of launches, armed boats, and small craft up the river itself.

On entering the reach at Pig Point they saw the American flotilla,

commanded by Commodore Baring, lying seventeen in number. They prepared

to attack it, when they saw flames begin to issue from the different

vessels, and comprehended that the commodore had deserted them; and

it was firmly believed that he had so timed the setting fire to his

vessels that they might blow up when the British were close upon them,

if they had not already boarded them. Fortunately, the flames had made

too much progress, and the British escaped this danger. The vessels

blew up one after another, except one, which the British secured.

Both soldiers and sailors were highly incensed at this treachery, and

prepared to avenge it on Washington itself. On the 24th of August they

were encountered at Bladensburg, within five miles of Washington, by

eight or nine thousand American troops, posted on the right bank of

the Potomac, on a commanding ridge. Madison was on one of the hills,

to watch the battle, on the event of which depended the fate of the

capital.

To reach the enemy the British had to cross the river, and that by a

single bridge. This was commanded by the American artillery, and it

might have been expected that it would not be easily carried; but, on

the contrary, a light brigade swept over it, in face of the cannon,

followed by the rest of the army; and the troops deploying right

and left the moment they were over, this single division--about one

thousand six hundred strong--routed the whole American force before the

remainder of the British could come into action. Few of the Americans

waited to be killed or wounded. Madison had the mortification to see

his army all flying in precipitation, and the city open to the British.

Before entering Washington, General Ross sent in a flag of truce--or,

rather, he carried one himself, for he accompanied it--to see that

all was done that could be done to arrange terms, without further

mischief or bloodshed. He demanded that all military stores should be

delivered up, and that the other public property should be ransomed at

a certain sum. But scarcely had they entered the place, with the flag

of truce displayed, when--with total disregard of all such customs

established by civilised nations in war--the party was fired upon,

and the horse of General Ross killed under him. There was nothing for

it but to order the troops forward. The city was taken possession of,

under strict orders to respect private property, and to destroy only

that of the State. Under these orders, the Capitol, the President's

house, the Senate-house, the House of Representatives, the Treasury,

the War-office, the arsenal, the dockyard, and the ropewalk were given

to the flames; the bridge over the Potomac, and some other public

works, were blown up; a frigate on the stocks and some smaller craft

were burnt. All was done that could be done by General Ross, and the

officers under him, to protect private property; but the soldiers were

so incensed at the treachery by which the Americans had sought to blow

up the seamen, by the firing on the flag of truce, and the unprincipled

manner in which the Americans had carried on the war in Canada, as well

as by the insults and gasconading of the Americans on all occasions,

that they could not be restrained from committing some excesses. Yet it

may be said that never was the capital of a nation so easily taken, and

never did the capital of a nation which had given so much irritating

provocation escape with so little scathe. The following evening it was

evacuated in perfect order, and without any enemy appearing to molest

the retreat. On the 30th the troops were safely re-embarked.

But this was not the only chastisement which the Americans had

received. On the 27th Captain Gordon, of the _Seahorse_, accompanied

by other vessels, attacked Alexandria, situated lower on the Potomac.

They found no resistance from Fort Washington, built to protect the

river at that point; and the authorities of Alexandria delivered up

all public property, on condition that the private property should be

spared. The British carried off the naval and ordnance stores, as well

as twenty-one vessels, of different freights. On the 12th of September

General Ross made an assault on the city of Baltimore. This was a

strongly fortified place, and the Americans can always fight well under

cover; and, on that account, the attempt should have been made with due

military approaches. But General Ross had so readily dispersed the army

that defended Washington, and another which had been drawn up in front

of Baltimore, that he made a rash endeavour to carry the place at once,

but was killed in the attempt, as well as a considerable number of his

men. He had inflicted a loss of six or eight hundred men, in killed and

wounded, on the Americans; but this was little satisfaction for his own

loss.

Earlier than this, in July, Colonel Pilkington took all the islands

in the Bay of Passamaquoddy; and in another expedition, in September,

the British took the fort of Castine, on the Penobscot river, defeated

double their number of Americans, pursued up the river the _John

Adams_, a fine frigate, and compelled the commander to burn it. They

took the town of Bangor, and reduced the whole district of Maine,

from Passamaquoddy Bay to the Penobscot. In fact, these ravages and

inroads, which rendered the whole seaboard of America unsafe, made the

Americans, and especially President Madison, exclaim loudly against the

barbarous and wanton destruction of their capital and ports.

But, not contented with this superiority, the British were tempted to

invest and endeavour to storm New Orleans. This was returning to the

old blunders, and giving the American sharp-shooters the opportunity

of picking off our men at pleasure in the open field from behind their

walls and batteries. This ill-advised enterprise was conducted by Sir

Edward Pakenham. Nothing was so easy as for our ships to blockade the

mouth of the Mississippi, and thus destroy the trade, not only of New

Orleans, but of all the towns on that river; but this common-sense

plan was abandoned for the formidable and ruinous one of endeavouring

to take the place by storm. The city of New Orleans lies at the

distance of one hundred and ten miles from the sea, on a low, boggy

promontory, defended on the river side by a chain of powerful forts,

and on the other by morasses. Having landed as near New Orleans as

they could, the British troops, on the 23rd of December, were met

by an American army, and received a momentary repulse; but this was

quickly reversed, and on Christmas day Sir Edward Pakenham encamped

at the distance of six miles from New Orleans. But he found at least

twenty thousand Americans posted between him and the city, behind a

deep canal and extensive earthworks. There was no way of approaching

them except across bogs, or through sugar plantations swarming with

riflemen, who could pick off our men at pleasure. This was exactly

one of those situations which the whole course of our former wars in

that country had warned us to avoid, as it enabled the Americans, by

their numerous and excellent riflemen, to destroy our soldiers, without

their being in scarcely any danger themselves. In fair and open fight

they knew too well that they had no chance with British troops, and

the folly of giving them such opportunities of decimating those troops

from behind walls and embankments is too palpable to require military

knowledge or experience to point it out. Yet Sir Edward Pakenham, who

had fought in the Peninsula, was imprudent enough to run himself into

this old and often-exposed snare. On the 26th of December he commenced

a fight on these unequal terms, the Americans firing red-hot balls from

their batteries on the unscreened advancing columns, whilst from the

thickets around the Kentucky riflemen picked off the soldiers on the

flanks. Pakenham thus, however, advanced two or three miles. He then

collected vast quantities of hogsheads of sugar and treacle, and made

defences with them, from which he poured a sharp fire on the enemy. By

this means he approached to within three or four hundred yards of the

American lines, and there, during the very last night of the year, the

soldiers worked intensely to cast up still more extensive breastworks

of sugar and treacle casks, and earth.

The new year of 1815 was commenced by a heavy fire along the whole of

this defence from thirty-six pieces of cannon, the immediate effect of

which was to drive the Americans, in a terrible panic, from their guns,

and walls composed of cotton bales and earth. Why an immediate advance

was not made at this moment does not appear. It would probably have

placed the whole of the American defences in the hands of the British

troops, and driven the Americans into the city. But even then little

advantage would have been gained, for the news of the contest was

bringing down riflemen in legions from the country all round, and the

British, struggling in bogs, and exposed at every fresh advance, must

be mowed down without a chance of retaliating.

In a little time the Americans, recovering their spirits, returned

to their guns, and plied them so well that they soon knocked the

breastworks of sugar and treacle casks to pieces. As nothing would

tempt the Americans to show themselves from behind their cotton bales

and embankments, after maintaining this murderous position for two

whole nights and days, Pakenham drew back his men, sacrificing some

of his guns, and formed a scheme of sending a detachment across the

river to turn the batteries and then play them upon the enemy. But

for this purpose it was necessary to cut a canal across the tongue of

land on which the army stood, in order to bring up the boats required

to carry the troops over the river. Major-General Lambert had arrived

with reinforcements, so that against the American twenty thousand

Pakenham had now about eight thousand men. All worked at the canal,

and it was finished on the 6th of January. Colonel Thornton was to

carry across the river one thousand four hundred men, and surprise

the great flanking battery of eighteen or twenty guns, whilst Sir

Edward Pakenham advanced against the lines in front. A rocket was to

be thrown up by Pakenham when he commenced his assault, and Thornton

was at that instant to make a rush on the battery and turn it on the

enemy. But they had not sufficiently calculated on the treacherous

soil through which they cut their canal. Thornton found it already so

sludged up that he could only get boats through it sufficient to carry

over three hundred and fifty men, and this with so much delay that,

when Pakenham's rocket went up, he was still three miles from the

battery--and that in broad daylight--which he ought already to have

taken. Unaware of this, Pakenham advanced against the chain of forts

and ramparts. He had ordered ladders and fascines to be in readiness

for crossing the canal, but by some gross neglect it was found that

they were not there, and thus the whole of the British troops were

exposed to the deadly fire of the American batteries and musketry. No

valour was of any use in such circumstances; but Sir Edward cheered on

the few but brave-hearted troops till the ladders and fascines could

arrive; but ere this happened, Pakenham was killed. Generals Gibbs

and Keane took the place of the fallen commander, and still cheered

on their men; but it was only to unavailing slaughter: the American

marksmen, under cover, and with their rifles on rest, picked off the

British soldiers at their pleasure. Gibbs was soon killed and Keane

disabled by a wound. In such circumstances the troops gave way and

retired, a strong reserve protecting the rear; but out of gun-shot

there was no further danger, for the Americans were much too cunning

to show their heads beyond the protection of their defences.

Meanwhile, Colonel Thornton, though delayed, and with only a handful of

men, still pushed on towards the battery, surprised the Americans, who

expected no attack in that quarter, and carried it against overwhelming

numbers. When about to turn the captured guns against the enemy, a

messenger came in haste to say that Pakenham had fallen, and the

attacking force had retired. But Thornton would not retrace his steps

without carrying off a good quantity of the artillery, amongst which

was a howitzer, inscribed, "Taken at the surrender of Yorktown, 1781."

On his return to the main body, which he did without any pursuit--for

even so small a band the Americans did not venture to pursue--it was

found that he had had but three men killed and forty wounded, he

himself being amongst the latter.

On the 18th of January, 1815, commenced the final retreat of the

British to their ships. They were allowed to march away without

molestation, taking all their guns and stores with them, except ten

old ship guns of no value, which they rendered useless before they

abandoned them. Andrew Jackson, afterwards President of the United

States, commanded in this defence of New Orleans, and loud were the

boastings of his prowess all over the States, when, in fact, he had

not risked a man. His merit was to have shown what excellent shots his

countrymen were, and how careful they were to keep out of the reach

of shot themselves. So far as the British were concerned, they had

shown not only their unparalleled bravery, but also, as on many such

occasions, their great want of prudence. This sacrifice of life would

have been spared by a single and much more effectual blockade, and the

most lamentable part of the business was, that all the time peace had

been made, though the news of it had not reached them.

But General Lambert did not retire far without striking another blow.

His predecessor had failed to take New Orleans, but he had brought away

the troops in excellent order, and he passed over in Sir Alexander

Cochrane's squadron and attacked and took the important forts of

Mobile, at the confluence of the Mobile, Tombigbee, and Alabama

rivers--the territories around which have since grown into States. This

was a basis for important operations on those shores; but they were

rendered unnecessary by the peace.

[Illustration:

_By permission of the Corporation of Liverpool._

ON THE EVENING OF THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

BY ERNEST CROFTS, R.A. FROM THE PAINTING IN THE WALKER ART GALLERY.]

[Illustration: NEW ORLEANS.]

When peace was made in Europe, the United States became anxious for

peace too. Madison had begun the war in the ungenerous hope of

wresting Canada from Great Britain, because he thought her too

deeply engaged in the gigantic war against Napoleon to be able to

defend that colony. He believed that it would fall an easy prey; that

the Canadians must so greatly admire the model republic that they

would abandon monarchy at the first call, and that he should thus

have the glory of absorbing that great world of the north into the

American Republic. In all this, he and those who thought with him

found themselves egregiously deceived. The Canadians showed they were

staunchly attached to Great Britain, and the attempts at invasion

were beaten back by the native militia and by our handful of troops

with the greatest ease. Meanwhile, the blockade of the east, and the

seizure of the merchant shipping, drove the New England and other

eastern States to desperation. Throughout this war Great Britain made

a uniform declaration of a preference for peace, but her offers were

regularly rejected so long as Napoleon was triumphant. The United

States, professing the utmost love of freedom, were the blind and

enthusiastic worshippers of the man who was trampling the liberties of

all Europe under his feet. It was not till the last moment--not till he

had been defeated in Russia, driven by Britain out of Spain, routed and

pursued out of Germany, and compelled to renounce the Imperial Crown of

France--that the American Government began to understand the formidable

character of the Power which it had so long and so insolently provoked,

and to fear the whole weight of its resentment directed against its

shores. It is certain that, had Britain been animated by a spirit

of vengeance, it had now the opportunity, by sending strong fleets

and a powerful army to the coast of America, to ravage her seaboard

towns, and so utterly annihilate her trade as to reduce her to the

utmost misery, and to precipitate a most disastrous system of internal

disintegration. The New England States, in 1814, not only threatened

to secede, but stoutly declared that they would not furnish another

shilling towards paying the expenses of the war. They even intimated

an idea of making a separate peace with Britain. In Massachusetts

especially these menaces were vehement. Governor Strong spoke out

plainly in the Legislative Chamber of that State. Madison endeavoured

to mollify this spirit by abandoning his Embargo and Emancipation Acts,

but this was now too late, for the strict blockade of the British, in

1814, rendered these Acts perfectly dead.

To procure peace, Madison now sought the good offices of the Emperor

Alexander of Russia with Great Britain, and these offices were readily

accepted, for the latter had never willingly gone into or continued

this unnatural war. A Congress was appointed at Gothenburg, and thence

transferred to Ghent. There, on the 24th of December, 1814, a loose and

indefinite peace was concluded, in which every principle on which the

war had been begun was left to be settled by commissioners; and some of

which--such was the difficulty of negotiating with the Americans--were

not settled for many years. On these points alone were the two Powers

agreed--that all hostilities between the contracting parties and the

Indians should be put an end to, and that both parties should continue

their efforts for the suppression of the slave-trade. Such was the joy

of the north-eastern States of America at the peace that the citizens

of New York carried the British envoy, sent to ratify the treaty, in

triumph through the streets.

When the Bourbons had entered Paris in 1814 they had shown the utmost

liberality towards those who had driven them from France and had

murdered those of their family on the throne and nearest to it. They

did not imitate the summary vengeance of Napoleon, whose Government,

in 1812, had put to death not only General Mallet, who had endeavoured

to restore the Bourbons, but also thirteen of his accomplices, on the

plain of Grenelle. When Louis XVIII. returned, there were numbers of

the bloody Revolutionists who had voted for, and some who had acted

in, the frightful atrocities of the Revolution--many who had urged

on the sufferings, the indignities, and the death of Louis XVI.,

Marie Antoinette, the Princess Elizabeth, the Princess Lamballe, and

the worst form of death of the unhappy Dauphin. Yet no vengeance was

taken, and numbers of these people were allowed to reside unharmed in

Paris. Having been now again driven forth, and seen the readiness with

which those who had sworn to maintain their Government had taken their

oaths and betrayed them, it might have been expected that there would

have been some severe punishments. But the natural mildness of Louis

XVIII., and the wise counsels of Wellington and Talleyrand, produced a

very different scene. Never, after such provocations, and especially to

the sensitive natures of Frenchmen, was so much lenity shown. In the

proclamation of Louis XVIII. of the 24th of July, nineteen persons only

were ordered for trial, and thirty-eight were ordered to quit Paris,

and to reside in particular parts of France, under the observation

of the police, till their fate should be decided by the Chambers. Of

the nineteen threatened with capital punishment, with trial before

a military tribunal, only Ney and Labédoyère suffered; another,

Lavalette, was condemned, but escaped by changing dresses with his

wife in prison. It was also stated that such individuals as should be

condemned to exile should be allowed to sell their property in France,

and carry the proceeds with them. Yet more clamour was raised by the

Buonapartists about the deaths of Ney and Labédoyère than had been made

in any executions by the Imperial or the Revolutionary parties over

whole hecatombs of innocent persons. As for Ney and Labédoyère, their

treason had been so barefaced and outrageous that no reasonable person

could expect anything but summary punishment for them. Ney had declared

to Louis XVIII. that he would bring Buonaparte to him in a cage, and

then carried over his whole army at once to the Emperor. Labédoyère

had been equally perjured after the most generous forgiveness of his

former treasons, and he had been particularly active in stimulating

the Parisians to make a useless resistance to the Allies approaching

Paris, by stating that the Bourbons were preparing a most sanguinary

proscription. Both officers knew that they had no hope of life, no

plea of protection, and they fled in disguise. Yet vehement reproaches

were cast on the Duke of Wellington for having, as the Buonapartists

asserted, broken the 12th article of the Convention of Paris, by which

the city was surrendered to the Allied armies. Madame Ney, after

the seizure and condemnation of her husband, went to the Duke, and

demanded his interference on the Marshal's behalf, as a right on the

ground of this article, which she interpreted as guaranteeing all the

inhabitants, of whatever political creed or conduct, from prosecution

by the restored Government. It was in vain that Wellington explained to

her that this article, and indeed the whole Convention, related solely

to the military surrender, and not to the political measures of the

Government of Louis, with which the Duke had publicly and repeatedly

declared that he had no concern, and in which he would not interfere.

When the Commissioners from the Provisional Government had waited on

him, so early as the 2nd of July, at Estrées, and claimed exemption for

political offenders, he showed them the proclamation of Louis, dated

Cambray, the 28th of June, making exceptions to the general amnesty,

and distinctly told them that he had no orders to interfere with the

measures of the Bourbon Government. To this the Commissioners had

nothing to object, and they thus clearly understood that the British

commander would not take any part in political, but merely in military

measures. Nevertheless, when Ney was executed, the clamour was renewed

that Wellington had betrayed him. We now anticipate, somewhat, to

dispose of this calumny, for there never was a party so recklessly

addicted to charging their enemies with breach of faith as that of

Buonaparte and his followers. The foul charge was so industriously

disseminated over Europe, that Wellington, at Paris, on the 19th of

November, 1815, issued a memorial on the subject, which he first caused

to be sent to all the Allied Powers and then to be published. In this

most decisive document he stated that the Convention of Paris related

exclusively to the military occupation of the place, and was never

intended, and could not be intended, to prevent either the existing

French Government, the Provisional, or any French Government that might

succeed it, from acting towards political offenders as it might deem

proper. He had refused before to enter into a question of settling the

Government. To make this clear, he quoted the 11th article, providing

for the non-interference of the Allied army with property; and the

12th:--"Seront pareillement respectées les personnes et les propriétés

particulières; les habitants, et en général tous les individus qui

se trouvent dans la capitale, continueront à jouir de leur droits

et libertés sans pouvoir être inquiétés, ou recherchés en rein,

relativement aux fonctions qu'ils occupent ou avaient occupées, à leur

conduite, et à leur opinions politiques." Labédoyère was shot on the

19th of August, 1815, and Ney on the 7th of December.

It remains only to notice the terminating scene of the once gay

Murat, Buonaparte's gallant leader of cavalry in so many campaigns,

and finally King of Naples. In consequence of plans that he had laid

with Buonaparte in Elba, Murat rose on the 22nd of March of this

year, and pushed forward with the intention of driving the Austrians

out of Upper Italy. But Austria was well aware of what had been in

progress, and, though Murat proclaimed the independence of Italy,

the Italians fled from him rather than joined him. On the Po he was

met by the Austrians, under General Fremont, fifty thousand strong,

and defeated. He retreated rapidly towards Naples again, suffering

other discomfitures, and at the same time receiving a notice from

Lord William Bentinck that, as he had broken his convention with the

European Powers, Britain was at war with him. To keep the Neapolitans

in his interest, he drew up a liberal Constitution, on the 12th of

May, amid the mountains of the Abruzzi, and sent it to Naples, where

his queen, Caroline Buonaparte, proclaimed it. It was of no avail; the

people, instead of assisting him, were ready to rise against him, and

his soldiers every day rapidly deserted and went to their homes.

Murat hastened in disguise to Naples to consult with his wife, who had

as much courage and more judgment than he had; but this availed him

nothing. On the 20th of May his generals signed a convention with the

Austrians at Casa Lanza, a farmhouse near Capua, to surrender Capua on

the 21st, and Naples on the 23rd, on condition that all the Neapolitan

officers who took the oath of allegiance to King Ferdinand should

retain their respective ranks, honours, and estates. At this news Murat

fled out of Naples, and, with a very small attendance, crossed over in

a fisherman's boat to the island of Ischia, and his wife went on board

the vessel of Commodore Campbell, which, however, she was only able to

effect by a guard of three hundred English sailors and marines, for the

lazzaroni were all in insurrection. Commodore Campbell, having received

Caroline Buonaparte, her property and attendants on board his squadron,

then sailed to Gaeta, where were the four children of Murat, took

them on board, and conveyed them altogether to Trieste, the Emperor

of Austria having given Madame Murat free permission to take up her

residence in Austria, under the name of the Countess of Lipano.