No recorded career parallels that of Napoleon Buonaparte; and in the history of kings and conquerors, the strangest story was his own. He seemed the shuttlecock of Fortune—and she placed him “on a pinnacle of pride merely to mark her own mutability.” Hurled from the sovereignty of half the world, his star had lost its ascendancy, apparently to rise no more,—when, by the happiest accident, his voyage from Elba was uninterrupted[288]—his landing unopposed—an enthusiastic welcome everywhere was given to the intruder—legions congregated at his bidding—the empire was offered and accepted—and the first intelligence of his descent was closely followed by a formal acknowledgment of his restoration to the sovereignty of France.
Napoleon landed in the Var on the 1st of March, and on the 19th he slept in the palace of Fontainbleau. Louis had abandoned the capital, and in a few hours the dynasty of the Bourbons seemed forgotten. None opposed the return of the exile—his decrees were absolute, his wishes were anticipated. The splendour of military parade delighted the soldiery, while the theatric glitter of a champ de Mai was admirably adapted to catch the fancies, and win the momentary attachment of a gay and thoughtless people. The whole pageant, in scenic effect, was suited for those whom it was designed to lure—and on the 17th of April, Napoleon was formally restored to that empire, from which the same “sweet voices” had, but a few months before, so formally deposed him.
Parisian adulation, and the military devotion he received from the moment his foot touched the shore at Cannes, did not blind him to “coming events.” A vain effort to make terms with the allied powers was scornfully rejected. At Vienna, his overtures were treated with disdain, and his letter to the English regent was returned with the seal unbroken. He saw from all these premonitory occurrences, that a storm was about to burst, and lost no time in preparing for a determined resistance. A powerful army alone could avert the danger—and, with his customary tact, Napoleon made prodigious efforts to restore the military strength of the empire, which the Russian, German, and Peninsular campaigns had during the last years so miserably weakened.
French vanity was successfully appealed to—the memory of past victories recalled—and martial glory, that powerful touchstone of national feeling, successfully employed to win the people to his standard. The younger of the male population were called out by ordonnances, and the retired veterans collected once more around those eagles, which, in prouder days, had entered half the European capitals in triumph.
The military power of France was organized anew. Commissioners, specially employed, enforced the operations of Napoleon’s decrees in every department of the kingdom. The Imperial Guard was re-established—the cavalry increased and remounted—that powerful arm, the artillery, by which half the victories of the French army had been achieved, was enlarged and improved—and, in a time inconceivably short, a most splendid corps d’armée, perfect in every department, was ready for the field.
While Napoleon was thus engaged, Wellington, having signed on behalf of the Prince Regent the treaty of Vienna, arrived at Brussels on the 5th of April, to take command of the British army. There, the troops of the Prince of the Netherlands, with those of Nassau and Brunswick, were placed under his orders—the whole forming the Anglo-Belgic army.
The Prussian corps d’armée were cantoned in and about Namur and Charleroi—while Ostend, Antwerp, Tournay, Ypres, Mons, and Ghent, were occupied by the allies. The position of the Anglo-Belgic army was extended and detached—for the preceding harvest in the Low Countries had been unusually deficient; and of course, the British and Belgic cantonments covered an additional surface to obtain the requisite supplies.
The allied corps in June were thus disposed. Lord Hill, with the right wing, occupied Ath. The left, under the Prince of Orange, was posted at Braine-le-Comte and Nivelles. The cavalry, under the Marquis of Anglesea, were established round Grammont; and the reserve and head-quarters, under the duke, were quartered in Brussels.
Belgium, for centuries, had been the seat of war—and every plain, every fortress, had its tale of martial achievement to narrate. Within its iron frontier there were few places which had not witnessed some affair of arms—the whole country was rife with military reminiscences—and it was destined to prove the scene where the greatest event in modern warfare should be transacted. As a country, Belgium was admirably adapted for martial operations—the plains, in many places extensive, terminated in undulated ridges or bolder heights; while the surface generally admitted the movements of masses of infantry. Canals, rivers, morasses, and villages, presented favourable positions to abide a battle, and difficult ones for an advancing army to force—while the fortresses everywhere offered facilities for retiring upon,—and presented serious obstacles to those who must mask or carry them when advancing.
To a commander circumstanced like Wellington, great perplexity, as to the distribution of his army, must arise—for the mode and point of Napoleon’s attack were alike involved in mystery. He might decide on adopting a defensive war, and permit the allies to become the assailants. This course, however, was not a probable one—but where he would precipitate himself was the difficulty. He was already in great force around Maubeuge and Binch, and consequently, Nivelles and Charleroi were equally exposed to aggression. On the right, he might attack Namur with Girard’s corps; or, with D’Erlon’s, advance on Courtrai by Lille; while leaving the wood of Soignies on his right, he could reach Brussels by Mons and Braine-le-Comte, thus gaining the rear of the allies, and favouring an insurrectionary movement of the Belgians—an event on which he placed considerable reliance. All these movements were open to Napoleon—and had he adopted others than he did at the opening of the campaign, that more fortunate results would have attended them, are now subjects only for military speculation.