In this extreme situation, the gravity and peril of which he measured with a glance, the Emperor felt that he could only escape by a striking and decisive action, and he did not hesitate to direct the intended blow towards Schwartzenberg, whose approach already spread alarm throughout the capital. The Emperor Alexander, on learning the successes of Napoleon at Craonne and Rheims, had feared that Schwartzenberg, by approaching the capital alone, would be again beaten separately, and that all these daily and isolated defeats would end by discouraging the troops of the Coalition, already filled with apprehension and alarm. The Czar, therefore, insisted in that council of war held at Troyes, that the two grand allied armies should forthwith manoeuvre so as to effect their junction in the environs of Chalons, in order to march thence on Paris, and crush everything which might be opposed to their passage.
This advice had prevailed and Napoleon met, on the 20th, before Arcis, the entire army of Schwartzenberg, which was bearing in a mass for this town, in order to cross the Aube, and rapidly gain the plains of Champagne where the junction was to be effected.
This sudden change of system in the military operations of the Allies completely disarranged all the plans of Napoleon, who quickly perceived the difficult and perilous position in which he was placed, by encountering an army three times as strong as his own, where he had only thought to find a rear-guard. However, he quickly decided to take the chance by casting into the struggle the weight of his own example, and reckoning his personal dangers for nothing. His cavalry had orders to attack the Austrian light troops while the infantry debouched from Arcis; but they were repulsed by the overpowering numbers opposed to them and driven back upon the town. In this extremity, Napoleon evinced the same heroic and almost reckless courage which he had shown at Lodi and Arcola, and on other occasions. He threw himself, sword in hand, among the broken cavalry, called on them to remember their former victories, and checked the enemy by an impetuous charge in which he and his staff-officers fought hand to hand with the invaders. "Surrounded in the crowd by the charges of cavalry," says Baron Fain, in a volume called "The Manuscript of 1814," giving an account of the engagement at Arcis, "he freed himself only by making use of his sword. On divers occasions, he fought at the head of his escort, and, far from avoiding the dangers, he seemed, on the contrary, to brave them. A shell fell at his feet; he awaited its bursting, and disappeared in a cloud of dust and smoke; he was believed to be lost; presently he arose, flung himself upon another horse, and again went to place himself beneath the fire of the batteries! * * * Death would have nothing to do with him!"
In spite of the prodigious efforts of the French army, and the unchangeable heroism of its chief, the battle of Arcis could not hinder the passage of the Aube, by the Austrians. The Emperor retired in good order, on the 21st, after having done the enemy much harm, and held him in check for a whole day; but Schwartzenberg ended by gaining the road which was to conduct him to Blucher.
Napoleon now decided on throwing himself upon the rear of the Allies. They were for some time quite uncertain of his movements after he quitted Rheims, until an intercepted letter to Marie Louise informed them that he was at St. Dizier, where Napoleon had slept on the 23d. He continued to manoeuvre on the country beyond this point for several days. Having seized the roads by which the Allies had advanced, he took many prisoners of distinction on their way to headquarters and at one time the Emperor of Austria himself escaped narrowly a party of French hussars. At St. Dizier, Caulaincourt rejoined the Emperor and announced to him the definite rupture of the negotiations with the Allies. This, however, was no surprise; but was expected. The only real discomfiture it caused was among the malcontents in the army, whose chief regret was at being from Paris, and who asked each other, barely out of hearing of the Emperor, "Where are we going? What is to become of us? If he falls, shall we fall with him?"
On the 26th of March the distant roaring of artillery was heard at intervals on the boulevards of Paris and the alarm began to be violent. On Sunday the 27th, Joseph Bonaparte held a review in the Place Carrousel. That same evening the allies passed the Marne at various points and at 3 o'clock in the morning they took Meaux. The regular troops now marched out of the capital, leaving all the barriers in charge of the National Guard. On the 29th the Empress, her son, and most of the members of the Council of State, set off attended by 700 soldiers, for Rambouillet from which they continued their journey to Blois. Queen Hortense, afflicted at seeing the Empress-Regent and her son abandon the capital to intriguers and conspirators, strongly pressed her to remain, and said with a prophetic conviction: "If you leave the Tuileries, you will never see them again!"
"One of the most astonishing circumstances of the moment," says Pons de L' Herault, a historian of the period, "is undeniably, the obstinacy with which the King of Rome refused to depart. This obstinacy was so great, that it became necessary to use violence in order to remove the young prince. The cries of the infant-king were heart-rending. He repeated several times: 'My father told me not to go away!' All the spectators shed tears." The young prince had declared again and again that "his papa was betrayed" and his declaration has never been satisfactorily accounted for and can only be explained by the supposition that he had heard the subject discussed among those who considered that all was lost in abandoning the capital.
Joseph now published the following proclamation: "Citizens of Paris! A hostile column has descended on Meaux. It advances; but the Emperor follows close behind, at the head of a victorious army. The Council of Regency has provided for the safety of the Empress and the King of Rome. I remain with you. Let us arm ourselves to defend this city, its monuments, its riches, our wives, our children—all that is dear to us. Let this vast capital become a camp for some moments; and let the enemy find his shame under the walls which he hopes to overleap in triumph. The Emperor marches to our succor. Second him by a short and vigorous resistance, and preserve the honor of France."