"We won't
fire," said Odillon Barrot, turning round to Colonel Saugrenue and his
regiment of the line--which, it may be remembered, was formed behind the
National Guard.
"Then give them the bayonet," said the Colonel, with a terrific oath.
"Charge, corbleu!"
At this moment, and with the most dreadful howl that ever was heard,
the National Guard was seen to rush forwards wildly, and with immense
velocity, towards the foe. The fact is, that the line regiment behind
them, each selecting his man, gave a poke with his bayonet between the
coat-tails of the Nationals, and those troops bounded forward with an
irresistible swiftness.
Nothing could withstand the tremendous impetus of that manoeuvre. The
Irish Brigade was scattered before it, as chaff before the wind. The
Prince of Ballybunion had barely time to run Odillon Barrot through
the body, when he too was borne away in the swift rout. They scattered
tumultuously, and fled for twenty miles without stopping. The Princes of
Donegal and Connemara were taken prisoners; but though they offered to
give bills at three months, and for a hundred thousand pounds, for their
ransom, the offer was refused, and they were sent to the rear; when the
Duke of Nemours, hearing they were Irish Generals, and that they had
been robbed of their ready money by his troops, who had taken them
prisoners, caused a comfortable breakfast to be supplied to them, and
lent them each a sum of money.
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