eleven o'clock
Sergeant Pinto cried that it was worse than Eylau . He laughed no more , nor did Zébédé ; but on , on we rushed , officers incessantly urging us forward . We seemed to grow delirious ; the love of country was indeed striving within us , but still greater was the furious eagerness for the fight . At eleven o'clock we descried the battle-field about a league in front of Leipzig . We saw the steeples and roofs crowded with people , and the old ramparts on which I had walked so often , thinking of Catharine . Opposite us , twelve or fifteen hundred yards distant , two regiments of red lancers were drawn up , and a little to the left , two or three regiments of mounted chasseurs in the fields along the Partha , and between them filed the long column from Duben . Farther on , along the slope , were the divisions Ricard , Dombrowski , Souham , and several others , with their rear to the city ; cannons limbered , with their caissons -- the cannoneers and artillerymen on horseback -- stood ready to start off ; and far behind , on a hill , around one of those old farmhouses with flat roofs and immense outlying sheds , so often seen in that country , glittered the brilliant uniforms of the staff .