his temper been less gallant, to set all upon the cast. Four battalions of the old guard only remained as a reserve; and were formed in squares to protect the march of the columns.

The English front by this time presented not a convex line, but a concave, either wing having gradually advanced a little in consequence of the repeated repulses of the enemy. They were now formed in an unbroken array, four deep, and poured on the approaching columns (each man firing as often as he could reload), a shower which never intermitted. The wings kept moving on all the while; and when the heads of the French columns approached, they were exposed to such a storm of musketry in front and on either flank, that they in vain endeavoured to deploy into line for the attack. They stopped to make this attempt, reeled, lost order, and fled at last in one mass of confusion.

The duke of Wellington now dismounted, placed himself at the head of his line, and led them, no longer held to defence, against the four battalions of the old guard-the only unbroken troops remaining-behind whom Ney was striving to rally his fugitives.

The marshal, at Wellington's approach, took post once more in the van, sword in hand, and on foot. But nothing could withstand the impetuous assault of the victorious British. The old guard also were shaken. Napoleon had hitherto maintained his usual serenity of aspect on the heights of La Belle Alliance. He watched the English onset with his spy-glass; became suddenly pale as death, exclaimed "They are mingled together-all is lost for the present, and rode off the field, never stopping for a moment until he reached Charleroi.

Hardly had the English advanced for this fatal charge, when Blucher's columns, emerging from the woods, were at length seen forming on the right of the French, and preparing to take part in the battle.

Their cannonade played on the flank of the old guard, while the British attack in front was overwhelming them. The fatal cry of sauve qui peut was heard every where: the French were now flying pell-mell in the most woful confusion. Blucher and Wellington met at length at the farm-house of La Belle Alliance; and the Prussian eagerly undertook to continue the pursuit during the night, while the English general halted to refresh his weary men.

The loss of Wellington's army on this great day was terrible: 100 officers slain (many of the first distinction), and 500 wounded, very many mortally; and of rank and file killed and wounded 15,000. The duke himself had been, all through the day, wherever the danger was greatest; and he alone, and one gentleman besides, of all a very numerous staff, came off the ground unhurt.

Of the 75,000 men whom Napoleon conducted to this last and severest of his fields, what with the slain and the wounded, and those who, losing heart and hope, deserted and fled separately to their homes, not more than 30,000 were ever again collected in arms. The Prussians followed hard on the miserable fugitives, and in every hamlet and village for many miles beyond La Belle Alliance, cut down the lingerers without mercy.

Napoleon at length halted at Philippeville; from which point he designed to turn towards Grouchy, and take in person the command of that remaining division, leaving Soult to reassemble and rally, at Avesnes, the relics of Waterloo. But hearing that Blucher was already at Charleroi (which was true), and that Grouchy had been overtaken and made prisoner (which was false), the emperor abandoned his purpose, and continued his journey, travelling post, to Paris.

On the 19th the capital had been greeted with the news of three great victories, at Charleroi, at Ligny, and at Quatrebras-100 cannon fired in honour of

the emperor's successes-his partisans proclaimed that the glory of France was secured-and dejection filled the hearts of the royalists. On the morning of the 21st, it transpired that Napoleon had arrived the night before, alone, at the Elysée. The secret could no longer be kept. A great, a decisive field had been fought :-and the French army was no

more.

CHAPTER XLI.

Napoleon appeals in vain to the Chambers-Abdicates for the second time-Is sent to Malmaison-And then to Rochefort-Negotiates with Capt. Maitland-Embarks in the Bellerophon--Arrives at TorbayDecision of the English Government-Interview with Lord Keith, &c.-Napoleon on board the Northumberland-Sails for St. Helena.

ON how sandy a foundation the exile of Elba had rebuilt the semblance of his ancient authority, a few hours of adversity were more than sufficient to show. He was still consulting with his ministers (even they were not all his friends) on the morning of the 21st, in what manner he ought to inform the chambers of his great misfortune, and what assistance he should demand, when the news reached the Elysée that both the assemblies had met as soon as the story of Waterloo transpired, and passed a series of resolutions; one of which declared the state to be in danger, and another, their sittings permanent; in other words, proclaimed his reign to be at an end. If any thing could have been wanted to complete Napoleon's conviction that the army had elevated him in oppositon to the nation-it must have been found in the fact that the funds rose rapidly from the moment in which it was known in Paris that the army was ruined. They went on to tell him that the chambers were debating on the means of de

fending Paris. "Ah," said he deeply feeling in what loss all had been lost to him-"ah, could they but defend them like my old guard!"

If Napoleon had listened to the advice of his brother Lucien, and the few who really considered their own fortunes as irrevocably bound up with his, he would have instantly put himself at the head of 6000 of the imperial guard, who were then in the capital, and dissolved the unfriendly senate of Paris, on the 21st of June, as unceremoniously as he had that of St. Cloud on the 19th of Brumaire. Lucien said ever after, that "the smoke of Mont St. Jean had turned his brain." He certainly gave what remained of the day to vacillation. Late in the evening he held a council, to which the presidents and vicepresidents of both chambers were admitted. In their presence Lafayette signified that nothing could be done until a great sacrifice had been made. Maret answered with fierceness; called for severe measures against the royalists and the disaffected: "Had such been resorted to earlier," cried he, 66 one who hears me would not be smiling at the misfortunes of France, and Wellington would not be marching on Paris." This strong allusion to Fouché suited not the temper of the moment. Maret was murmured down; and Carnot himself is said to have shed tears when he perceived that the abdication was judged necessary. That ancient democrat had indeed just consented to be a count; but he enjoys apparently the credit of having acted on this occasion as a good Frenchman. He saw, say even the anti-Buonapartist historians, that France was invaded, and the same feelings which made him offer his own sword in December, 1813, urged him now to oppose any measure which must deprive his country of the military talents of Napoleon. The emperor heard all in silence-and broke up the meeting without having come to any decision.

Early next morning the chambers again met, and

the necessity of the emperor's abdication was on the point of being put to the vote-when Fouché appeared and saved them that trouble by producing the following proclamation "To the French people:" Frenchmen! In commencing war for the maintenance of the national independence, I relied on the union of all efforts, all wills, and all authorities. I had reason to hope for success, and I braved all the declarations of the powers against me. Circumstances

appear to be changed. I offer myself as a sacrifice to the hatred of the enemies of France. May they prove sincere in their declarations, and to have aimed only at me! My political life is ended; and I proclaim my son, Napoleon II. emperor of the French. Unite for the public safety, if you would remain an independent nation.-Done at the palace Elysée, June the 22d, 1815. NAPOLEON.

The debate which followed the production of this act in either house, but especially in that of the peers, was violent. In the latter, Carnot, having received some grossly exaggerated accounts of the force and success of Grouchy, endeavoured to persuade the assembly that the_marshal must have ere then added 60,000 men at Laon to Soult and the relics of Waterloo, and so formed an army capable, under fit guidance, of even yet effectually retrieving the affairs of France. But Ney had arrived in Paris the same morning, and this speech called up the man, who, if any single energies could have done so, would have saved the day at Waterloo. "Grouchy," said he, "cannot have more than 20, at most 25,000 men-and as to Soult-I myself commanded the guard in the last assault-I did not leave the field until they were exterminated. Be assured there is but one course-negotiate and recall the Bourbons. In their return I can see nothing but the certainty of being shot as a deserter. I shall seek all I have henceforth to hope for in America. Take you the only course that remains for France."