vast mass of cavalry,--the Cossacks of the Don and the
Uhlans of the South, commingled and mixed,--bear down on the guns.
The struggle is for life or death; no quarter given. Ney recalls his
columns, and the guns are lost.

"Who shall bring the Emperor the tidings?" said Tascher, as his voice
trembled with excitement. "I'd rather storm the battery single-handed
than do it."

"He has seen worse than that already to-day," said an aide-de-camp at
our side. "He has seen Lahorie's squadrons of the Dragoons of the Guard
cut to pieces by the Russian horse."

"The Guard! the Guard!" repeated Tascher, in accents where doubt and
despair were blended.

"There goes another battalion to certain death!" muttered the
aide-de-camp, as he pointed to a column of grenadiers emerging from the
front line; "see,--I knew it well,--they are moving on La Bothiere. But
here comes the Emperor."

Before I could detect the figure among the crowd, the staff tore rapidly
past, followed by a long train of cavalry moving towards the left.

"His favorite stroke," said Tascher: "an infantry advance, and a
flank movement with cavalry." And as the words escaped him, we saw the
horsemen bearing down at top speed towards the village.

But now we could look no longer; our brigade was ordered to support the
attack, and we advanced at a trot. The enemy saw the movement, and a
great mass of cavalry were thrown out to meet it.

"Here they come!" was the cry repeated by three or four together, and
the earth shook as the squadrons came down.

Our column dashed forward to meet them; when suddenly through the drift
we beheld a mass of fugitives, scattered and broken, approaching: they
were our own cavalry, routed in the attempt on the flank, now flying to
the rear, broken and disordered.

Before we could cover their retreat, the enemy were upon us. The shock
was dreadful, and for some minutes carried all before it; but then
rallying, the brave horsemen of France closed up and faced the foe. How
vain all the efforts of the redoubted warrior of the Dnieper and the
Wolga against the stern soldier of Napoleon! Their sabres flashed like
lightning glances, and as fatally bore down on all before them; and as
the routed squadrons fell back, the wild cheers of "Vive l'Empereur!"
told that at least one great moment of success atoned for the
misfortunes of the day.

"His Majesty saw your charge, Colonel," said a general officer to
Tascher as he rode back at the h