--"Gredin! cent mille
tonnerres de Dieu!"
Napoleon (benignantly).--"Calme-toi, mon fidele ami. What will you?
It was fate. Gahagan, at the critical period of the battle, or rather
slaughter (for the English had not slain a man of the enemy), advised a
retreat."
Montholon. "Le lache! Un Francais meurt, mais il ne recule jamais."
Napoleon.--"STUPIDE! Don't you see WHY the retreat was ordered?--don't
you know that it was a feint on the part of Gahagan to draw Holkar from
his impregnable intrenchments? Don't you know that the ignorant Indian
fell into the snare, and issuing from behind the cover of his guns, came
down with his cavalry on the plains in pursuit of Lake and his dragoons?
Then it was that the Englishmen turned upon him; the hardy children of
the north swept down his feeble horsemen, bore them back to their
guns, which were useless, entered Holkar's intrenchments along with his
troops, sabred the artillerymen at their pieces, and won the battle of
Delhi!"
As the Emperor spoke, his pale cheek glowed red, his eye flashed fire,
his deep clear voice rung as of old when he pointed out the enemy from
beneath the shadow of the Pyramids, or rallied his regiments to the
charge upon the death-strewn plain of Wagram. I have had many a proud
moment in my life, but never such a proud one as this; and I would
readily pardon the word "coward," as applied to me by Montholon, in
consideration of the testimony which his master bore in my favor.
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