eaders would have recoiled, but which, in his eyes,
promised a signal triumph. This was to rally the French garrisons in
Lorraine and throw himself on Schwarzenberg's rear. It was, indeed,
his only remaining chance. With his band of barely 40,000 men, kept up
to that number by the arrival of levies that impaired its solidity, he
could scarcely hope to beat back the dense masses now marshalled
behind the Aube, the Seine, and the Marne.

A glance at the map will show that behind those rivers the allies
could creep up within striking distance of Paris, while from his
position north of the Aube he could attack them only by crossing one
or other of those great streams, the bridges of which were in their
hands. He still held the central position; but it was robbed of its
value if he could not attack. Warfare for him was little else than the
art of swift and decisive attack; or, as he tersely phrased it, "The
art of war is to march twelve leagues, fight a battle, and march
twelve more in pursuit." As this was now impossible against the fronts
and flanks of the allies, it only remained to threaten the rear of the
army which was most likely to be intimidated by such a manoeuvre. And
this was clearly the army led by Schwarzenberg. From Bluecher and Buelow
naught but defiance to the death was to be expected, and their rear
was supported by the Dutch strongholds.

But the Austrians had shown themselves as soft in their strategy as in
their diplomacy. Everyone at the allied headquarters knew that
Schwarzenberg was unequal to the load of responsibility thrust on him,
that the incursion of a band of Alsatian peasants on his convoys made
him nervous, and that he would not move on Paris as long as his
"communications were exposed to a movement by Chalons and Vitry."[436]
What an effect, then, would be produced on that timid commander by an
"Imperial Vendee" in Alsace, Lorraine, and Franche-Comte!

And such a rising might then have become fierce and widespread. The
east and centre were the strongholds of French democracy, as they had
been the hotbed of feudal and monarchical abuses; and at this very
time the Bourbon princes declared themselves at Nancy and Bordeaux.
The tactless Comte d'Artois was at Nancy, striving to whip up royalist
feeling in Lorraine, and his eldest son, the Duc d'Angouleme, entered
Bordeaux with the British red-coats (March 12th).

To explain how this last event was possible we must retrace our steps.
After Sou