But the
Emperor desired to do all things in order, and he waited until
the ground should be drier and harder, so that his artillery
could manoeuvre. So three hours were wasted, and it was eleven
o'clock before we saw Jerome Buonaparte's columns advance upon
our left and heard the crash of the guns which told that the
battle had begun. The loss of those three hours was our
destruction. The attack upon the left was directed upon a
farm-house which was held by the English Guards, and we heard the
three loud shouts of apprehension which the defenders were
compelled to utter. They were still holding out, and D'Erlon's
corps was advancing upon the right to engage another portion of
the English line, when our attention was called away from the
battle beneath our noses to a distant portion of the field of
action.
The Emperor had been looking through his glass to the extreme
left of the English line, and now he turned suddenly to the Duke
of Dalmatia, or Soult, as we soldiers preferred to call him.
"What is it, Marshal?" said he.
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