Thus, with the right extremity of the army resting upon the river Marne, and the left upon the Seine, the French occupied a defensive semicircular line, which could not be turned, the greater part of which was posted on heights of uncommon steepness, and the whole defended by cannon, placed with the utmost science and judgment, but very deficient in point of numbers. The other side of Paris is almost defenceless; but, in order to have attacked it on that side, the allies must have previously crossed the Seine; an operation successfully practised in the following year, but which at that period, when their work, to be executed at all, must be done suddenly, they had no leisure to attempt, considering the great probability of Napoleon's coming up in their rear, recalled by the danger of the capital. They were therefore compelled to prefer a sudden and desperate attack upon the strongest side of the city, to the slower, though more secure measure of turning the formidable line of defence which we have endeavoured to describe. Three times, since the allies crossed the Rhine, the capital of France had been menaced by the approach of troops within twenty miles of the city, but it had uniformly been delivered by the active and rapid movements of Napoleon. Encouraged by this recollection, the citizens, without much alarm, heard, for the fourth time, that the Cossacks had been seen at Meaux. Stifled rumours, however, began to circulate, that the divisions of Marmont and Mortier had sustained severe loss, and were in full retreat on the capital; a fact speedily confirmed by the long train of wounded who entered the barriers of the city, with looks of consternation and words of discouragement. Then came crowds of peasants, flying they knew not whither, before an enemy whose barbarous rapacity had been so long the theme of every tongue, bringing with them their half-naked and half-starved families, their teams, their carts, and such of their herds and household goods as they could remove in haste. These unfortunate fugitives crowded the Boulevards of Paris, the usual resort of the gay world, adding, by exaggerated and contradictory reports, to the dreadful ideas which the Parisians already conceived of the approaching storm.