Soissons had been evacuated by the Allies when concentrating themselves for the battle of Laon.  Napoleon threw himself, therefore, into that town, and was making his best efforts to strengthen it, in expectation of the Prussian advance, when once more a messenger of evil tidings reached him.  A detached Russian corps, commanded by St. Priest, a French emigrant, had seized Rheims by a coup-de-main.  The possession of this city (as a glance at any good map will show) could hardly fail to re-establish Blucher’s communications with Schwartzenberg—­and Napoleon instantly marched thither in person, leaving Marmont to hold out as well as he could at Soissons, in case that should be the direction of Blucher’s march.  Buonaparte, moving with his usual rapidity, came unexpected on Rheims, and took the place by assault at midnight.  St. Priest had fallen; and the bulletin announced that he met his fate by a ball from the same cannon which killed Moreau.  If it were so, no one could have ascertained the fact; but Napoleon’s imagination was always ready to welcome a tale that savoured of fatality.

From Rheims, where he remained for three days to refresh his unfortunate followers, he despatched at length full powers to Caulaincourt to conclude any treaty, which should secure the immediate evacuation of the old French territory, and a mutual restoration of prisoners.  Maret, (Duke of Bassano,) however, wrote—­by the same messenger—­at much greater length; informing the plenipotentiary that the Emperor would refuse to ratify any treaty whatever—­if, in the interim, events should have taken a turn in his favour.  It is to be doubted whether Caulaincourt would have ventured to act, on instructions thus qualified, with the decision which the emergency required.  But he was not put to the proof.  The Allies had determined to negotiate no more, ere the despatch of Rheims reached him.

Throughout this crisis of his history, it is impossible to survey the rapid energy of Napoleon—­his alert transitions from enemy to enemy, his fearless assaults on vastly superior numbers, his unwearied resolution, and exhaustless invention—­without the highest admiration which can attend on a master of warfare.  But it is equally impossible to suppress astonishment and indignation in following, or rather attempting to follow, the threads of obstinacy, duplicity, pride, and perfidy, which, during the same period, complicated, without strengthening, the tissue of his negotiations.  It is only when we fix our eyes on the battles and marches of this wonderful campaign, that we can hesitate to echo the adage:—­Whom God hath doomed to destruction, he first deprives of reason.