about seven o'clock
So thinking , I grew sad ; I gazed at the thousands of artillerymen and baggage-guards swarming over the bridge , and saw the tall bear-skin shakos of the Old Guard , who stood with shouldered arms immovable on the hill of Lindenau on the other side of the river -- and as I thought they were fairly on their way to France , how I longed to be in their place ! Zébédé , through whose mind the same thoughts were running , said : `` Hey ! Joseph ; if we were only there ! '' But I felt bitterly , indeed , when , about seven o'clock , three wagons came to distribute provisions and ammunition among us , and it became evident that we were to become the rear-guard . In spite of my hunger , I felt like throwing my bread against a wall . A few moments after , two squadrons of Polish lancers appeared coming up the bank , and behind them five or six generals , Poniatowski among the number . He was a man of about fifty , tall , slight , and with a melancholy expression .