Even without a spyglass, Freemantle could see precisely which French troops were advancing over the sloppy churned mud of the valley. The Emperor, expecting victory near at hand, had sent in the Garde.
The Imperial Garde was the elite of the elite of Napoleon’s troops, distinctive by their height and the bearskins that were part of their campaigning uniforms, usually held in reserve until the moment of victory and partially for that reason never defeated. The day was traditionally as good as won when the Garde took the field, and certainly the rest of the French troops assumed this would be the case at Waterloo as it had been so often before. They cheered as the tight columns passed, a wave of sound that started faint but grew into a crescendo from every part of the valley. The British pe
