Failing in his efforts at distracting the allied generals in their advance, Napoleon, after a smart affair, decided to countermarch on Paris—but the Prussian corps, that held Vitry, completely barred the direct line of march, and obliged him to take a circuitous rout. Having put his army again into motion, Buonaparte travelled post, and when within four leagues of Paris, learned that his capital was actually in possession of the allies. After much indecision he determined, with what troops he could collect, to march from Fontainbleau to Paris, on the 3rd of April. But his history had been already politically closed by a decree passed on the preceding day by the conservative senate. His deposition was solemnly pronounced—the soldiery liberated from their allegiance—all confidence, civil and military, was destroyed—and a throne, erected on the ruins of kingdoms, and cemented by seas of blood, crumbled into nothingness, and,
“Like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Left not a wreck behind.”
With political events we have no business, and it is sufficient to cursorily observe, that arrangements were effected for Napoleon’s retirement from public life to the “lonely isle,” where he might still, in fancy, “call himself a king.” To this secluded spot, many of his old and devoted followers accompanied him. Peace was generally proclaimed over Europe; tranquillity restored in France; the “Grand Nation,” to all appearance, contented itself with the change of government; the allied sovereigns retired with their respective corps, each to his own dominions; and the victorious army of Wellington quitted the French soil, on which it had consummated its glory; and received, on landing on the shores of Britain, that enthusiastic welcome which its “high deeds” and boundless gallantry deserved from a grateful country.[285]
Lord Wellington quitted Toulouse on the night of the 30th of April, and reached Paris safely on the morning of the 4th of May. His reception by the restored monarch and the allied sovereigns was most gratifying—for none had done so much for the deliverance of Europe;—none, when all beside, with few exceptions, “blanched from the helm,” so fearlessly persevered, regardless of disheartening abandonment abroad and more evil auguries at home. Advanced to a dukedom, the allied general had gained every honour to which a British subject was admissible—while every court in Europe had already marked their admiration and respect, by presenting to the Liberator of Spain the insignia of the highest orders at their disposition.
The flattering reception bestowed upon the English duke in the French capital detained him but a brief space from his high command. He left Paris on the 10th—hurried to Toulouse—arranged every thing for a short absence—and hastened to Madrid to welcome the deposed monarch, who, through his instrumentality, had been replaced upon the throne. The honours already conferred upon the duke by the provisional government were confirmed by Ferdinand, and the rank of Captain-General of Spain added to the rest. On the 5th of June he quitted Madrid—reached head-quarters on the 10th,—reviewed those splendid divisions to whom so often he had pointed out the path of victory,—and, in a modest and plainly-written order, bade his companions in arms farewell[286]—and returned to England “the admired” of his own, and the “envied one” of his opponents. His general order was dated the 14th of June,[287] and on the 23rd he landed at Dover and proceeded to the capital.
It is a singular, and, we believe, an unprecedented occurrence, that when presented to the House of Lords, four patents of nobility, namely, those of Viscount, Earl, Marquis, and Duke, were severally read, when, for the first time, Wellington took his seat among the assembled peers of Britain.
NAPOLEON’S RETURN.—BATTLE OF QUATRE BRAS.
Napoleon’s return.—His enthusiastic reception.—Makes mighty efforts to restore the military power of France.—Duke of Wellington arrives in Brussels, and takes the command of the allies.—Belgium.—Napoleon leaves Paris.—Drives in the Prussian outposts.—Ney attacks the Prince of Orange.—Wellington marches to his assistance.—Battle of Quatre Bras.
A few months passed away—Europe was apparently at rest—its military attitude was gradually softening down—and all the belligerent powers, weary of a state of warfare that, with slight intermission, had lasted for a quarter of a century, enjoyed the repose which the overthrow of Napoleon’s power had produced. But this state of quietude was delusory—it was the treacherous calm that precedes a tempest. Untamed by adversity, that ambitious spirit was gathering strength for another effort—France was ready to receive him—past victories would thus be rendered useless—Europe convulsed again—and none could foresee what strange events the descent of Napoleon might produce.