Waterloo Page #2

When we get to Paris, let me look at

Napoleon. I will not get too near.

- Mama admires him.

- I am a bit of a Bonapartist.

Is it true, that he is a monster?

He eats laurels and drinks blood.

And when will you

venture into his lair?

He hasn't given me any idea.

It all depends on...

Cross the river. Tomorrow we

dry our boots in Brussels.

- God willing, Sire.

- God has nothing to do with it.

- Don't let young Hay get killed.

- An engagement?

I don't want Sarah to wear black

before she's worn white.

Dickie has promised to get me

a cuirassier's helmet.

- Without any blood on it.

- And one for me. With the blood.

Where will you stick

your Frenchman?

- Under the right arm, sir.

- See, he has it planned.

When you meet a cuirassier, you'll

be lucky to bring away your life. -

- Never mind his helmet. The French

will teach you the art of fighting.

Madam, by your leave.

I have never seen

such a set of sprats.

- Picton can't walk in a ball room.

- But he dances well with the French.

But one dances with them

in a field.

- Who's he?

- A Prussian officer.

That gentleman

will spoil the dancing.

- It's Napoleon, sir...

- I know. He has crossed the border.

With all his forces.

He has come between our armies.

- Where?

- At Charleroi.

Charleroi.

- Do you wish me to stop the ball?

- No, I want no alarm.

All officers obliged to ladies

will finish the dance.

Uxbridge, move the cavalry to Charleroi.

Picton, your division marches tonight.

Charleroi.

May I go with the army?

You can ask the Duke.

He allowed ladies in Spain.

We've had so little time together.

- Madeleine, a battle is no place...

- I fear I may never see you again.

What could be simpler than Charleroi?

He has humbugged me.

In a night's march,

he has made us piecemeal.

He has gained a victory

at the cost of bootlaces.

If Blucher stays in Belgium,

I stay too.

On that promise, Blucher would

tie his men to trees if necessary.

- These four roads here...

- Quatre Bras. He'll go for them.

If we can't hold him there,

I will stop him here.

Charleroi.

By God, that man does war honour.

A field of glory

is never a pretty sight.

Nevertheless, 16,000 Prussian dead.

That'll be good news in Paris.

Wellington's on the run at Quatre Bras.

He is retreating.

- Then what are you doing here?

- I came to make my report.

Why didn't you follow him?

Why didn't you pursue him?

- Where are my reinforcements?

- Don't you dare criticise me!

If Wellington's free to choose his

ground, you have lost me everything.

Marshal Blucher, the sector is broken.

I have ordered a retreat.

I am seventy-two

and a proud soldier.

This steel is my word.

I am too old to break it.

If Wellington runs for the coast,

none of us will get home to Berlin.

I do not trust the English.

But because I have served you before. -

- I have ordered the retreat to Wavre.

You may still cooperate with Wellington.

But God help us

if he does not stand.

Grouchy. Gerard.

You take 30,000 men.

You take one third of my army

and pursue Blucher.

Don't let them regroup or consolidate

and don't let them rejoin.

But Blucher might go

in ten different directions.

Blucher is not a scatter of birds.

We will find him on one road.

Enough's enough!

Let's not have any disagreements.

That only leads to disaster.

Grouchy. Gerard. You can go.

Go, go, go.

We'll beat Napoleon next time!

Blucher will win!

Blucher will turn defeat

into victory!

Old Blucher. Damned good licking

and rolled eighteen miles back.

So, we go, too.

I suppose in England

they'll say we've been licked.

Can't help that.

- It's mad. It's all madness.

- They know what they're doing.

If Bony kicked the Prussians' arse,

why are we doing all the running?

A retreating army is never

in love with its commander.

A few shots from the French

and they'll be themselves again.

- I like the cut of your men, Gordon.

- Forward fellows with a bayonet.

Meat and eggs from the cradle up,

and a lemon a month.

All from my own acres.

I've bred 'em myself.

Some there could call me

more than Colonel.

Indeed.

- That must be the whole army.

- They're still positioning, Sire.

Never interrupt your enemy when he's

making a mistake. That's bad manners.

It's a bad position, Wellington.

That wood behind us is unsound.

If they push us back it'll be like

a wall. The army will be cut to pieces.

There is no undergrowth there.

A battery of nine pounders...

A whole army can slip through it

like rain through a grate.

It's suicidal,

if you want to know.

You may be surprised to know

that I saw this ground a year ago -

- And I've kept it in my pocket.

Obviously, he's no student of Caesar.

He's positioned himself badly.

He has the trees at his back.

We'll give him no provocation.

Maybe he'll leave tonight.

Come on. You're nosing your way

right into the pot.

There you are!

Look, keep quiet

and I'll only eat half of you.

Forgive me, sir, but...

If you took the troops into confidence,

they would know what they were about.

If I thought my hair knew

what my brain was thinking. -

- I'd shave it off and wear a wig.

Here comes old Atty.

Get to your feet.

- Your old friends, sir.

- The Enniskillen.

I hang and flog more of them

than I do the rest of the army.

- Good evening.

- Good evening.

A fine night, sir.

Take off your pack, sir.

- Me, sir?

- You, sir.

- Open it, sir.

- Yes, sir.

I knew something queer was

scratching my back, sir.

Where did you acquire

this plunder, sir?

- This, sir?

- That, sir.

No, sir.

This plunder acquired me, sir.

Do you know the penalty

for plundering, sir?

- Stoppage of gin, sir?

- It's death, sir.

Sir, I have to report this

little pig has lost its way. -

- And I'm trying to

find her relations, sir.

He knows how to defend a hopeless

position. Raise him to corporal.

Play the goat next time, Paddy,

and you'll be a Sergeant.

I don't know what they'll do to

the enemy, but they frighten me.

Dirty night. Hard morrow.

- De Lancey.

- Yes, sir?

If I fail tomorrow -

- I hope God will have mercy on me.

For nobody else will.

Why is he standing there?

What is his reason?

Has he lost his caution? There must

be something I don't understand.

If only Blucher could outrun Grouchy,

and give me even one corps.

All depends on the Prussians.

Why does Grouchy only do

six miles a day? I do ten.

The muddy slope will help us.

They'll slither up to it.

But the roads could slow Blucher,

and that'll be the end of it.

Tell him the roads are

the same for everyone. True?

- True?

- Yes, Sire.

Tell him to walk faster.

You may fight your battle,

Field Marshal.

- Where is Grouchy and his men?

- He is following us step by step.

He is not between us.

- What is the time, Hay?

- It's ten to two, sir.

Muffling, I must ask you

to go out once more tonight.

Oblige me with a fresh horse, sir.

I beg Marshal Blucher to come

to Waterloo by one o'clock.

Don't you see, Uxbridge?

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