about half after six
He could not sleep and the nature of his illness was such that it was agony for him to mount a horse . This condition had been aggravated by the awful exertion , physical and mental , he had made and the strain of that long afternoon of desperate fighting . Nor had he eaten anything the livelong day . Yet at about half after six that night he did get into the saddle again . Conquering his anguish , he rode down to the fifteen battalions of the Guard still held in reserve at La Belle Alliance , all that was left intact of that proud and gallant army . `` My children , '' he said hoarsely in last appeal , `` I must sleep in Brussels to-night . There is the enemy .