advance to strike the last blow, one
towards the south, between Menilmontant
and Père la Chaise, so as to cut off Belleville
from Paris, the other by the north, to
seize, at whatever cost of life, Prés St.
Gervais, la Petite Villette, and the Butte
de St. Chaumont, and then join the other
columns. The Allies dreaded the return of
Napoleon, and the blow of despair he might
strike. About three in the afternoon
Brigadier Paixhan placed eight heavy guns
beyond Charonne on the declivity of
Menilmontant, four more on the north reverse
by Belleville, and eight on Chaumont. His
gunners were old men and boys. They
waited with terrible calmness for the
masses of Russians and Germans who
began to advance by Charonne in front
opposite Belleville, and by the north through
Prés St. Gervais. The enemy pushed on
doggedly, though their front ranks were
mowed down by the relentless fire, and
attacked Marmont in the rear. The
Russians then ascended Chaumont, carried
the hillock, which was undefended by
infantry, and joined the column from the
south, thus placing themselves between
Belleville and the barrier.

Upon this, to prevent being cut off from
Paris, Marmont collected his forces, and,
supported by Generals Pallepon and
Meynadier, and Colonel Fabvre, rushed on the
Russian grenadiers, already beginning to
enter the chief street of the Temple Faubourg.
These he broke and drove back
beyond the barrier, and he then resumed
the defence at the octroi wall.

Mortier, in the plain of St. Denis, between
La Villette and La Chapelle, was also
almost hopeless, though still keeping a
brave front to the enemy, like a gallant
Frenchman as he was. The Curial and
Charpentier divisions at La Villette on his
right were now in the centre of a whirlpool of
Russians and Germans. Maddened at this,
Mortier rushed with part of the Christiani
division of the Old Guard from La Chapelle,
and wheeling these bayonets swiftly from
left to right, bore down on La Villette, and
drove out the Prussian Guard with cruel
carnage. But masses more came deluging
back, taking Grande Villette in the rear by
the Canal of the Ourcq, and, clearing a
passage between La Villette and La Chapelle,
drove Mortier over the plain back
on the barriers of Paris. At the same
moment, Langeron, a French renegade,
advanced towards Montmartre, expecting
to have to fight his way through whirlwinds
of grape, but finding the heights silent,
triumphantly wrested from a handful of
sappers the few pieces of artillery that had been
placed there. He then marched on to the
Clichy barrier, which the National Guards,
under Marshal Moncey, were bravely
defending. As M.Thiers says eloquently,
when he reaches this point in his history:
"Such was the termination of two-and-twenty
years of victory. The triumphs at
Milan, Venice, Rome, Naples, Cairo,
Madrid, Lisbon, Vienna, Dresden, Berlin,
Warsaw, and Moscow, now closed
disastrously before the walls of Paris." The
present twelve leagues of walls and sixteen
citadels were not yet built. There were no
barricades ready. The octroi wall could
not resist the storm. Thus, after one day's
fighting, fell the gay city.

Marmont, willing to spare the city ruin
and bloodshed, sent three officers to Prince
Schwartzenberg to propose terms. At that
moment General Dejean arrived breathless
to announce that Napoleon would appear
within two days with six hundred thousand
men, and, therefore, to resist at any cost,
or to cajole the enemy by a sham parley.
But it was too late; the imperial star was
waning, Fortune had hidden her face.
The Allies refused to resume negotiations
till Paris surrendered. The two marshals
accordingly met Nesselrode and other
plenipotentiaries at La Villette, and hostilities
were suspended. The marshals refused to
let the army lay down their arms, and
declined to retire into Brittany with their
forces. Finally, however, they consented
to save Paris by evacuating the city that
night and retiring to Fontainebleau.

Meanwhile, Napoleon was flying to save
Paris, but at Fromenteau he met General
Belliard, and heard the fatal news that
struck him like a cannon-shot. He sat
down by the two fountains on the Juoisy
road, hid his face in his hands, and, in those
moments of agony, struck out a great plan
to still save France. He had already that
day travelled, without resting, thirty leagues
by post and thirty on horseback. At the
nearest post-house he called for lights, and
drew out his maps.

"If I had but the army here," he cried,
"all would be right. I have our enemies
trapped. God will deliver them up to
me. I shall annihilate them in Paris, but I
must gain time. To-morrow Alexander, who
wishes to show himself to the great city, and
has no desire to burn it, will hold a review;
he will have one portion of his troops on
the right of the Seine, another on the left.
Some will be in Paris, some outside, and in