Henry C. Watson

Biographical details

Henry C. Watson The Camp-fires of Napoleon

General Macdonald marched forward to the charge. And such a charge had never before been witnessed upon the field of battle. Macdonald advanced, as it were, in the face of a volcano pouring forth a red tide of death. Whole squadrons were swept to the earth, but, led by a man without fear, the guards never even faltered; but on, on—still on—they advanced, like a decree of fate, which nothing could check. To sustain them, Bessieres charged with the cavalry of the old guard, but was hurled from his horse by a cannon-shot, which damped the enthusiasm of his troops, and rendered their onset weak.
Source: Gutenberg

Henry C. Watson The Old Bell of Independence; Or…

The cloud dispersed with the noise, and flying troops were seen rushing on from the west. Men and horses were mingled in one indiscriminate mass of confusion. The soldiers wore the uniform of the British; but there was no order, as in the former vision. Ranks were cut up and destroyed—plumes were bent down and broken—horses fled without riders—and the fallen were trampled on by their companions. Terror seemed to move in their midst, as they hurried onward. The pillar of a cloud rose again behind them. It was like a thick smoke from the fire of the enemy.
Source: Gutenberg

Henry C. Watson The Camp-fires of Napoleon

The star that had arisen at Toulon, and shone resplendent over Lodi, Marengo, Jena, Wagram, Borodino, and a throng of other sanguinary fields—had sunk forever. It is painful to trace the career of fallen greatness. We will not follow the Emperor, shorn of his purple, to his prison at St. Helena, where a deadly climate did the work that the leaden storms of a hundred fights had refused to perform. We will not go to that bed of death, from which, while the elements were at terrible war, that stormy spirit was carried away. Leave Hannibal at Zama, and Napoleon at Waterloo.
Source: Gutenberg

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