TWO:Sir Arthur knew that at least one hundred thousand French were on the march to take him at once in flank and front; that Soult was advancing from Salamanca, Mortier from Valladolid; and, besideswhich he did not knowNey was en route from Astorga. He must, therefore, retreat at once or fight, and the enemy saved him the trouble of deciding. King Joseph, afraid of Sir Robert Wilson being joined by General Venegas, who had shown himself on the road towards Aranjuez, and of then falling on Madrid, ordered Victor to attack Wellesley at once, without waiting for any further reinforcements. Accordingly, Sir Arthur was attacked by Victor in front of Talavera. He had placed Cuesta and his Spaniards on his right, abutting on the Tagus, and protected by old enclosure walls and olive gardens; and his own troops on the left, on the open plain. The attack began on the evening of the 27th of July, on the outposts, which gradually fell back, and the battle was renewed the next day. The position of the Spaniards being found unapproachable, the whole fury of the French fell on the British, and the contest was kept up till it was pitch dark.[577] About midnight there was a tremendous firing on the Spanish side, and Sir Arthur rode there to ascertain the cause. No cause was visible, but the Spaniards were flying in great haste, and it was with difficulty that he and Cuesta could stop the rout. Next day the British line was attacked on all points by the troops of both Victor and Sebastiani, but they were repelled, and driven down the hills at the point of the bayonet. At one time the British centre was driven in, but it was re-established by the 48th, while the 23rd Dragoons, by a reckless charge, paralysed a whole division of the French army. In the words of Sir Arthur, the British everywhere maintained their positions gloriously, and gave the French a terrible beating. Out of the fifty thousand pitched against the less than twenty thousand Britishfor the Spanish were scarcely engaged at allthey lost in killed and wounded seven thousand men. General Lapisse was killed, and many prisoners were taken, besides seventeen pieces of artillery, with tumbrils and ammunition complete. The British lost eight hundred and fifty-seven killed, and had three thousand nine hundred and thirteen wounded. Major-General Mackenzie and Brigadier-General Langworth were killed.
THREE:New barricades were now raised at the end of almost every street, and the astonished army, who had received no orders either to attack or retreat, remained passive spectators of the insurrection, a prey to emotions of terror and grief. At daybreak[551] on the 23rd Paris was a vast battlefield. Upon the barricades, hastily constructed of overturned omnibuses, carts, furniture, and large paving-stones, were seen glistening weapons of every size and form. "Vengeance, vengeance, for the murders committed under the windows of Guizot!" was the only cry. The people did not for a moment doubt that the deed was done by the order of that Minister. Their feelings were still more inflamed by the appointment of Bugeaud. Even at this moment, however, the king could with difficulty be brought to see his position. However, his eyes were opened at last, when too late, and a proclamation was issued announcing that Barrot and Thiers were charged by the king with the formation of a Ministry; that the Chamber would be dissolved; that General Lamoricire was Commander-in-Chief of the National Guard of Paris, instead of Bugeaud (whose appointment was cancelled); and concluding with the words, "Libert, Ordre, union, Rforme." Barrot himself rode along the Boulevards to explain the nature of the changes, but without effect. The people had lost all faith in the king; they would trust him no more; nothing would satisfy them but his dethronement. On the morning of the 24th of February the royal family were assembled in the gallery of Maria, where breakfast was about to be served. At this moment it was announced to the king that the troops were quitting their ranks, and delivering up their arms to the people. The Tuileries were now filled with deputies and functionaries of all parties and ranks, all bringing the same tidings, that the city was in possession of the insurgents; that the army had fraternised with the people; that the cole Polytechnique were behind the barricades; that the troops had delivered up their muskets and cartouches, and the Revolution was everywhere triumphant. The fatal word, "abdication," was pronounced. The king faltered, but the heroic queen energetically resisted. But, while she spoke, the insurgents were attacking the last post which protected the Tuileries. The fusillade which thundered in the Place du Carrousel reverberated in the chamber in which the king then stood, and already an armed multitude was entering the palace of the ancient kings of France. Thereupon the king abdicated in favour of his young grandson, the Count of Paris, whom his mother, the Duchess of Orleans, presented to the Chamber of Deputies. It was, however, too late; the Revolution had got the upper hand. The king and queen had escaped through the garden of the Tuileries, and hastened to the gate which opens upon the Place de la Concorde. After various vicissitudes they arrived at Honfleur at eight o'clock, on the 26th of February, and after many hairbreadth escapes and fruitless efforts to sail from Trouville, they embarked on the 2nd of March at Honfleur, for Havre, among a crowd of ordinary passengers, with a passport made out in the name of William Smith. There he was received by the English Consul. He embarked in the Express, which arrived at Newhaven on the 3rd of March. The royal party reached Claremont, and remained there, under the protection of Queen Victoria, whom he had not long since visited in regal pomp, and whom he had welcomed with parental affection at the Chateau d'Eu. Such are the vicissitudes of human life! He died at Claremont on the 26th of August, 1850, in the seventy-sixth year of his age.
THREE:The massacre of Savenay had not settled La Vende. In the spring of 1794 armed parties were again on foot. The largest body was that under Charette, posted on the Isle Noirmoutier, to which many of the fugitives who escaped from the massacre of Savenay betook themselves. Amongst these was the wounded General D'Elbe, with his wife, and a brother of Cathelinau. Charette quitted the isle to make an attack on some of the Republican troops left in small bodies in the country, consigning the care of the sick and wounded to the protection of a garrison of one thousand eight hundred men. This garrison was soon corrupted by the Republican general, Turreau; it surrendered, and D'Elbe and his wife were both shot, and the sick and wounded treated with merciless cruelty. This was about the only place of any strength left the Vendans; but a worse misfortune was at hand. The young and chivalrous Henri La Roche-Jaquelein, marching, at the head of a body of his own peasantry, between Trementine and Nouaill, met two Republican soldiers. The count generously offered them quarter; but, instead of accepting it, one of them instantly levelled his musket and shot him through the head. The two soldiers were immediately dispatched by his followers and, supposing that a Republican column must be at hand, they buried the three hastily in one grave and fled. The young count was only in his twenty-first year, and with him died the hopes and confidence of his peasantry. Stofflet succeeded him in the command of his people, but Charette might be considered the Commander-in-Chief of the Vendans.
THREE:But the despondency of Wolfe was but for a moment. Suddenly a new ideaan inspiration, it seemedburst upon him: he would scale the Heights of Abrahamthe point where no mortal ascent was dreamed of, and which therefore was less defended, except by nature, than the rest of the vicinity of the city. The ships were immediately ordered to make a feint, under Admiral Saunders, opposite Montcalm's camp at Beauport, and those under Holmes, at a point higher up the river. Attention being thus drawn from himself, on the night of the 12th of September, when it was pitch dark and the tide flowing, he put across the river to a small inlet about two miles above Quebec, which ever since bears the name of Wolfe's Cove.
.