Even though he rose at first light, Napoleon did not leave headquarters to ride through his army to offer encouragement, as had been his custom on the eve of battle. As far as the allies knew, he was still in Paris, and it would be foolish to risk being greeted by cheers that might be overheard by the enemy pickets.
Marshal Ney arrived late in the afternoon. His coat was covered in dust and his cheeks flushed from the exertion of the ride from his estate outside Paris. Napoleon stared at him frostily as the marshal presented himself in the small office that had been commandeered from the owner of the inn.
‘You are late, Ney.’
Ney sucked in a deep breath. ‘I might have been given more warning, sire. I came immediately I got your summons. What is it that you require of me?’
‘I need you to command the left wing of the Army of the North. Do you accept?’
‘Yes, sire,’ Ney replied without hesitation. ‘When do you expect the enemy to attack us?’
Napoleon could not help a small smile and glanced at the timepiece mounted on the wall. ‘It is we who will be attacking, Ney, in less than twelve hours from now.’
Ney’s eyes widened. ‘Sire, I know nothing of your plans. I need time to take up my command.’
‘Your officers have already been briefed. Your chief of staff can provide you with all the details that you need. Do you still accept the command, or do you consider yourself unfit to meet the challenge?’
Ney glared back. ‘I will do my duty, sire. I will lead the left wing of the army, wherever you command me to go.’
‘Very well,’ Napoleon stood up and held out his hand.‘My dear Ney, I have never needed you more than at this hour. You have no idea how much it comforts me to know that I will have the bravest of my marshals fighting at my side when we face the enemy.’
Ney puffed out his cheeks at such brazen flattery. Yet he took the emperor’s hand and shook it firmly. ‘I can think of no higher honour, sire.’
‘Then it is settled.’ Napoleon releaded his grip. ‘Given the time we have left before the advance begins, I suggest that you collect your orders from Soult and ride to join your men.’
‘Yes, sire!’ Ney stood stiffly and bowed his head, then turned and strode out of the office.
The soldiers of the Army of the North spent the remainder of the day, and the first part of the night, resting in the fields and woods close to the peaceful flow of the Sambre. Then, at midnight, the sergeants and corporals quietly crept down the lines of sleeping men and shook them awake. In the cool night air the dark figures formed into columns and moved forward to their start positions. Elsewhere, in the artillery camps, the gun crews harnessed the horse teams and limbered the cannon before they too rumbled forward. Ahead of the dense columns of infantry and artillery the cavalry mounted and fanned out along the bank, and then waited for the order to cross the frontier. At three in the morning the sentries silently fell back and on the far bank the Prussians were puzzled when there was no reply to the usual greetings they called across the water.
At headquarters Napoleon sat with his staff. Some of the officers conversed in low tones, but most sat in silence, glancing at the hands of a large clock perched on the mantel above the fireplace in the map room. The orders had been sent out to every formation hours earlier and the desks, stools and document chests had been packed on to the wagons allocated to Soult and his officers. There was a lull in the frantic activity of the last few days as everyone waited for the army to be unleashed against the allies. The hour hand of the clock crawled towards three and then, finally, Napoleon eased himself on to his feet, and his officers scrambled up from their chairs and faced him expectantly.
‘Gentlemen! The attack begins. God willing, this time in a week we shall be celebrating in the streets of Brussels.’
Soult raised his fist and punched the air. ‘Long live France! Long live the Emperor!’
His officers repeated his cry, again and again, while out in the night tens of thousands of men and horses rippled forward, advancing across the frontier.
Chapter 56
Arthur
Brussels, 15 June 1815
‘ ’Tis a damned disgrace,’ Picton grumbled as he took his place at the table. ‘The government has sent us not much more than half the troops your grace requested. And most of the beggars are green. Much of the army is foreign and nearly half the men speak German.’
‘It is an infamous army, to be sure,’ Arthur agreed calmly. He had invited his senior officers to an early dinner so that they might discuss their preparations for war before attending a ball that evening. Arthur had arrived to take up his command barely two months earlier and had been horrified by the lack of readiness evident in the lowlands. The failure of the British government to provide him with enough soldiers was only one of the difficulties he had had to contend with.
Faced with the new threat,Arthur had sought the services of as many as possible of the officers he had commanded in the Peninsula. Most had answered the call, but others had been imposed upon him, like his cavalry commander, the Earl of Uxbridge. It was the same with many of the staff officers who had been appointed by the Duke of York before Arthur arrived from Vienna.
Then there was the dubious quality, and loyalty, of the allied troops that made up two-thirds of his army. King William of the Netherlands had at first refused to agree to place his men under Arthur’s command and had reluctantly consented only after intense diplomatic pressure from London, and the payment of a large subsidy in gold. Arthur had decided to distribute the most unreliable of his allied troops amongst his redcoats to lessen the impact of any treacherous sentiments. Picton was right to complain, Arthur reflected as the other officers took their seats. But that was the hand that he had been dealt and he must do the best he could.
At least Kitty and his sons were safe. Somerset had escorted them back to England before joining Arthur in Brussels. They had left Paris only a few days before Napoleon had arrived and Somerset had taken the commendable precaution of burning all the embassy’s records before leaving. Unfortunately, the Bourbons had failed to show the same good sense and Napoleon had discovered the secret treaty that had been signed between Austria, France and England at the start of the year. When the details had been published in the French newspapers the Prussians and Russians had been outraged, and many of the officers in Blьcher’s army were hostile and suspicious of their English allies in consequence.
When the soup had been served, Arthur leaned towards Uxbridge and asked quietly, ‘Any fresh reports of enemy activity on our right flank?’
‘Nothing new. The Frogs seem to be there in strength, judging by what they show us along the frontier. Of course, if I had permission to send patrols into France we would have a far clearer picture.’
‘Out of the question. My orders are to hold the army in readiness until war is declared. If we cross the frontier we become the aggressors.’
‘Something of a nicety,’ Uxbridge said dismissively. ‘It is hard to believe that war can be avoided at this stage.’
‘Nevertheless, we have our orders. In the meantime, I am concerned that Bonaparte may attempt to strike to the west of Brussels, and cut us off from the sea. The army must be ready to concentrate against an attack from that quarter. So, we must have adequate warning from your cavalry patrols, Uxbridge. They must stay alert.’