hind those of the newspapers. The Army of the Line had been increased, since the 20th March, from 175,000 to 375,000 men, and would soon reach 500,000. Eight hundred and fifty thousand Frenchmen were ready to defend the liberties of the country, and assure the triumph of the national cause. An élite of 751,440 of the national guard might be rendered moveable. France, in fine, bristled with patriotic bayonets—and (as was true) had become a workshop of arms. Vulcan and the Cyclops were still busy forging weapons of etherial temper for the heroes who were to form a wall of brass about the country. The second report submitted to the chambers was one from Fouché to the emperor—of interminable length. It relates chiefly to domestic enemies, proscribes Thoulouse and Bordeaux, pronounces a solemn panegyric on the Revolution “so much calumniated;” designates its antagonists as the cause of all its excesses; recommends the suspension of the constitutional right of personal security;—and the adoption of measures of rigour, suited to the crisis. Always demure and velvet-pawed, this veteran of the political boards mixes up his counsels of proscription with fervent appeals to humanity, and invocations to natural rights and the principles of free government, on which he expatiates as if they had been allotted to him for a metaphysical thesis. The third report—from Caulincourt, the minister of foreign affairs, to the emperor, dated 7th June—furnished matter for reflection rather more interesting to all parties. The preparations for of fensive war being completed, and the emperor having set out on that errand, it was to be shown that he

was not the aggressor. As he had so often declared, while the military organization was in train only, that peace existed, and that he confidently expected it would continue, the task of reconciling the many weeks array on the frontiers, and his last movements, with all that we have seen of this tenor, would appear to have required an exclusive reference to some proceedings abroad of a very late date. Not so, however. M. de Caulincourt forgets all the lullabies sung to the nation, and states the matter of fact—that the treaty of the 25th March was a declaration of war. “From the first moment,” adds the minister, “it was easy to see that the resolution of England as to war was invariably fixed. The answer of Lord Castlereagh to my letter of the 4th April left me no doubt on that head. On the eighth of April her intentions were manifested without reserve.” In consequence of the events of April, he concludes that to believe in the possibility of peace, would be a dangerous infatuation. One more quotation from this report of Caulincourt, and we have done, for the present, with these shameless oracles of fraud and falsehood. Our readers have seen the boasts and congratulations of the imperial government concerning the expedition of Murat in Italy. They must be apprized, too, of what is now established by irrefragable evidence, that it was undertaken at the urgent instigation of Bonaparte himself, and primarily, for his support. Yet the imperial minister of foreign affairs after Murat had consummated his own ruin, speaks thus, in the face. of the world; “Your majesty had scarcely arrived at Paris, when the king of Naples engaged in a struggle with Austria, which he was not in a condition to maintain. Your majesty could not but hear with chagrin, the intelligence of so imprudent a sally of which the issue was scarcely doubtful. Above all you lamented to see the liberty of the nations of Italy thus sacrificed.” After such an incredible bestirring, vapouring, strutting, over the whole surface of the country; after the mighty parade of oaths, of pledges, of menaces, of unconquerable resolution, what was the issue?—The Leonidas did not die, but fled; the Codrus metamorphosed himself into Themistocles: —his chamber of peers, whose courage and attachment to him reverses were only to double, united in compelling him to abdicate:— the incalculable hosts, the millions of Carnot and Fouché, all armed and impatient for the enemy, shrunk into an array incompetent to repel what remained of the British and Prussians aster the battle of Waterloo.—On their approach, the federations—the invincible patriots of 1815,-who were to shed, with their emperor, the last drop of their blood, vanished, as it were, by art magic: Not an eighth part of the national guards proved to have been embodied; such as were called to march out of their departments deserted in crowds at every step: a very few battalions only made even a show of resistance to the Allies.—So perfect and inflexible

was the unanimity for the cause of the Hero, +the adamantine comfact of the great nation, that, in the south, north, and west, as soon as the event of the battle of Water

loo transpired, without any signal,

even from the authorities, the white flag was seen floating triumphantly from every spire: not an arm was raised—and out of Paris, scarcely a voice—in defence of him for whom all had sworn to perish. Never, to believe the emperor, his functionaries of every description, every newspaper of his empire, proclaiming it in one incessant chorus, had there been embattled so tremendous an apparatus of war as that which the Allies would have to meet. But one army beaten—and the riddie was solved! All the other actors “were spirits” and “melted into air, thin air.” The shameless necromancers of the scene should have wound up their juggle with the following declaration, which Bonaparte under his new visor of a penitent, had the unequalled effrontery to cause to be published, in allusion to his own career, soon after his arrival from Elba. “Genius has contended against the spirit of the age. The latter has come victorious out of the struggle. Cunning has sought to delude this spirit. It has traced the windings, and defeated the aims of cunning. There is no reliance but in national truth and good faith.”

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THE debarkation of Bonaparte at Cannes, was a stroke of thunder to all honest and patriotic Frenchmen, and to those who sincerely wished the tranquillity and happiness of their country. The whole army shamefully violated their oaths of allegiance to the best of kings, and treacherously turning their arms against him, soon forced him to abandon his capital. All true Frenchmen were then mortified by the sight of Bonaparte's triumphant arrival at Paris. The measures which he immediately adopted, were those which he had pursued during his iron reign over France. Impatient to act upon the frightful theatre of the field of battle, to strew it with bodies and bathe himself in blood, Napoleon hastened the formation of armies with incredible activity. On all sides troops were raised, united, and dispatched for the frontiers; regiments were filled up from restored prisoners and new levies, and the national guard was re-organized. Artillery, equipments, and arms of every description, were issued as if by enchantment from the arsenals and manufactories, and in a few days, France was transformed into a vast camp. Whilst a numerous army filed off towards Belgium, others were forming in Alsace, Lorraine, and Franche

Compté, and on the side of the Alps and the Pyrenees. The army of the North which was the most considerable, in the early part of June occupied extensive cantonments in the departments of the North and of Aisne, where they remained in echellon order. The general head-quarters were at Laon. The first corps occupied Valenciennes, and the second Maubeuge. They communicated on the right with the army of Ardennes and that of the Moselle; their left rested upon Lille. Composed in a great measure of old soldiers lately restored to the ranks, the army of the North was full of courage and inflamed with enthusiasm for Bonaparte. Dispositions favourable to the support of the army, were manifested in all the departments which had been the theatre of war in 1814, except that of the North, where the contrary sentiments were distinctly avowed, and where the presence of the troops was suffered with an impatience but ill concealed. From this department no levies were drawn, and the national guard obstinately refused to march. The army relied upon the effective co-operation of the inhabitants when hostilities should break out; and the inhabitants generally believing that the allies had entered France in 1814, only in consequence of repeated treachery, relied upon the army with entire confidence. The commencement of the war was thus expected with feelings of perfect security, and the troops remaining in their cantonments eager for the fight, complained only of the tardiness with which the allies advanced. Such was the state of affairs when they learned that the guards having left Paris at the termination of the chamfi de Mai, were approaching Laon by forced marches; and that Bonaparte a few days after, had followed in the same direction, and was hastening towards the frontiers. He arrived nearly at the same time with the guards at Vervins, where he put himself at the head of the army of the North which had quitted its quarters. It was not generally supposed that his intention was to attack; it seemed more probable that the army was led to the extreme frontier to take up a line of defence. He displayed however, his usual activity on the march; was constantly engaged in reviews, and in visiting the fortifications of the towns through which he passed.

He omitted no opportunity of ex

hibiting himself to the troops. On arriving at Beaumont, the army of the North united with that of Ardennes, commanded by Vandamme, whose head-quarters were established at Fumay. The army of the Moselle under the orders of General Gérard, left Metz at the same time, and debouching by forced marches through Philippeville, took their station in the line. The army of the North then counted five corps of infantry, commanded by Lieutenant Generals d'Erlon, Reille, Vandamme, Gérard, and count

Lobau. The cavalry, commanded in chief by Grouchy, was divided into four corps, under the orders of Generals Pajol, Excelmans, Milhaud, and Kellerman. The imperial guard, 20,000 strong, formed the nucleus of this fine army, which was followed by a considerable train of artillcry perfectly well equipped, and a collection of moveable bridges. Each corps had a park of reserve in addition to the batteries regularly attached to it. The artillery of the guard was especially distinguished for its magnificence, being almost entirely composed of new pieces. These troops, all choice and well-appointed, might amount to an effective force of 150,000 men, of whom 20,000 were cavalry, and carried with them 300 pieces of cannon.—But whilst they were yet in the heart of their own country, they were wanting in that strict discipline which consti. tutes the strength of armies, as well as the protection of the countries which they occupy. Regardless of their unhappy countrymen, who displayed the greatest zeal in contributing the means of subsistence, the French troops treated them with the utmost harshness; and considering pillage as one of their indisputable rights, made a boast of abandoning selves to every species of excess. Every where houses were sacked, under the pretence of searching for provisions; the soldiers broke open doors, rifled drawers and chests, mal-treated the peasantry, and seized upon every thing that suited them. “ They had taken the field,” it was said, “ and war could not be carried on without them;”—of course, “every thing was lawful:” they indulged therefore to the full their insatiable appetite for plunder, refined as it was by ten years of wars which can only be compared in the ravages they occasioned to the incursions of barbarous hordes upon the territories of their neighbours. Thus, running from house to house, and from cellar to cellar, and destroying what they could not carry away, the soldiers returned to camp laden with spoil, and the miserable peasantry, objects of the coarsest abuse, and accused of having concealed their money, were glad to escape even with the surrender of their whole property. The majority of the officers, it must be confessed, but feebly opposed this infamous rapine, and excused themselves by saying with an air of complacency, “Why are there no magazines? the soldiers must live.”—Whilst the soldiers lived, the officers, as may readily be supposed, were abundantly supplied, and suffered no embarrassment but that of choice.—Do we recognise in this, the loyal, disinterested, generous and honourable character of French officers? Undoubtedly not; but times are changed, and it belonged to the officers of Bonaparte to give to our military biography a new and peculiar aspect. Amongst these avaricious and unprincipled plunderers, there was still a number of men of honour and morality, who lamented these disorders, and served with regret in an army, criminal in its rebellion, and still further disgraced by so outrageous a conduct: but hurried along by circumstances, and wishing to hide from themselves the extent of their perjury, they averted their eyes from the causes of the war, to contemplate only the ostensible end—the protection of the French territory from invasion. By viewing the subject


VoI. I.

merely in this light, and persuading themselves that they were aiding in the defence of their country, they conceived it to be their first duty to remain steady at their posts. It was impossible, moreover, to restrain the excesses above mentioned. The soldiers were not to be withheld; such of their leaders as were animated with the best intentions, knew full well that this license had constantly prevailed in the armies commanded by Bonaparte, and that it had always been his most effectual means to conciliate their attachment and excite their courage. The country which they traversed was covered with fine crops of grain, and gave promise of a plentiful harvest;-but woe to the tracts which bordered on the route of the army, and especially those which were deemed proper for an encampment. The most fertile spots were always selected for this purpose, and in a few moments every thing disappeared, trodden down or cut as provender for the horses, or as materials for barracks. The army itself was distracted within by the same anarchy which prevailed in its external conduct; it seemed as if an implacable hatred raged in each corps against the rest, and as if open war existed among them. No reciprocal confidence, no indication that they were fighting in the same cause: on every side were exhibited marks of pride, selfishness, and rapacity.—There was not even harmony among the commanders. When the head of a column or regiment arrived at a place where it was intended to halt, he seized upon every thing he could find, without caring for those who were to follow. Sentinels, were posted in the houses which afford


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