se batteries rattling and bounding--down they came on to our
crumbling ranks. It was over. A yell of agony, the agony of brave men
who see no hope, rose from one flank to the other, and in an instant the
whole of that noble army was swept in a wild, terror-stricken crowd from
the field. Even now, dear friends, I cannot, as you see, speak of that
dreadful moment with a dry eye or with a steady voice.

At first I was carried away in that wild rush, whirled off like a straw
in a flooded gutter. But, suddenly, what should I see amongst the mixed
regiments in front of me but a group of stern horsemen, in silver and
grey, with a broken and tattered standard held aloft in the heart
of them! Not all the might of England and of Prussia could break the
Hussars of Conflans. But when I joined them it made my heart bleed to
see them. The major, seven captains, and five hundred men were left upon
the field. Young Captain Sabbatier was in command, and when I asked him
where were the five missing squadrons he pointed back and answered: "You
will find them round one of those British squares." Men and horses
were at their last gasp, caked with sweat and dirt, their black tongues
hanging out from their lips; but it made me thrill with pride to see how
that shattered remnant still rode knee to knee, with every man, from the
boy trumpeter to the farrier-sergeant, in his own proper place.

Would that I could have brought them on with me as an escort for the
Emperor! In the heart of the Hussars of Conflans he would be safe
indeed. But the horses were too spent to trot. I left them behind me
with orders to rally upon the farm-house of St. Aunay, where we had
camped two nights before. For my own part, I forced my horse through the
throng in search of the Emperor.

There were things which I saw then, as I pressed through that dreadful
crowd, which can never be banished from my mind. In evil dreams there
comes back to me the memory of that flowing stream of livid, staring,
screaming faces upon which I looked down. It was a nightmare. In victory
one does not understand the horror of war. It is only in the cold chill
of defeat that it is brought home to you. I remember an old Grenadier of
the Guard lying at the side of the road with his broken leg doubled at
a right angle. "Comrades, comrades, keep off my leg!" he cried, but they
tripped and stumbled over him all the same. In front of me rode a
Lancer officer without his coat. His arm had just bee