The officers were silent for a moment as they watched a figure appear on the roof of La Haye Sainte’s stables, waving a tricolour from side to side in triumph. As Arthur stared at the fallen strongpoint, and the French forces gathering behind it, he knew that Bonaparte was preparing for one last assault on the allied line. Arthur’s reserves had been thrown into the battle. The men that remained had been under fire since noon.

‘What shall we do, your grace?’ asked Somerset. ‘Shall I order a fresh brigade to retake La Haye Sainte?’

‘Yes, we must do that. It will be a bloody business but we can’t afford to lose the farmhouse. If it remains in French hands then all we can do is hold the ridge, or die where we stand.’

‘If we fail to retake it, what are your orders?’

‘There are no more orders,’ Arthur replied flatly. He stared towards the east where the first gloom of dusk was gathering on the horizon, partially obscured by the smoke of battle from the direction of the village of Plancenoit.‘The night must come,’ he said softly.‘Or Blücher.’

Chapter 63 - La Belle Alliance, 6.30 p.m.

Chapter 63

La Belle Alliance, 6.30 p.m.

‘Ney has taken the farmhouse!’ Soult exclaimed. ‘Sire, we have La Haye Sainte. Look.’

Soult pointed to the French flag waving above the barn. Ney had already ordered some guns forward and they had begun to scourge the redcoats on the crest of the ridge, less than three hundred paces away. Soult held out Ney’s scribbled report. ‘He asks for reinforcements, sire. Wellington is beaten. One more attack and the day is ours, he says.’

‘Ney says so?’ Napoleon sneered. The ground around the farmhouse was carpeted with French bodies, as was the slope between the farmhouse and the end of the walled garden of Hougoumont. ‘The proof of Marshal Ney’s wisdom lies there for all to see. He has squandered our entire force of cavalry on his useless attacks. And then thrown Foy’s division away. So you’ll understand why I might begin to question the good marshal’s judgement.’

Soult looked across the valley to the ridge, where spouts of earth leaped into the air as more of the French guns resumed their fire on the allied line. ‘Perhaps Ney is right this time, sire. He needs more men.’

‘More men?’ Napoleon threw his hands up bitterly. ‘Where do you expect me to get them from? Do you want me to make some?’

Soult closed his mouth and looked down, enduring his master’s wrath.