cursing most frightfully. We went up to him: he was blind with the
loss of blood, and my ball had carried off the bridge of his nose. He
recovered; but he was always called the Prince of Ponterotto in the
French army, afterwards. The surgeon in attendance having taken charge
of this unfortunate warrior, we rode off to the review where Ney and
Eugene were on duty at the head of their respective divisions; and
where, by the way, Cambaceres, as the French say, "se faisait desirer."

It was arranged that Cambaceres' division of six battalions and
nine-and-twenty squadrons should execute a ricochet movement, supported
by artillery in the intervals, and converging by different epaulements
on the light infantry, that formed, as usual, the centre of the line.
It was by this famous manoeuvre that at Arcola, at Montenotte, at
Friedland, and subsequently at Mazagran, Suwaroff, Prince Charles, and
General Castanos were defeated with such victorious slaughter: but it
is a movement which, I need not tell every military man, requires the
greatest delicacy of execution, and which, if it fails, plunges an army
into confusion.

"Where is the Duke of Illyria?" Napoleon asked. "At the head of his
division, no doubt," said Murat: at which Eugene, giving me an arch
look, put his hand to his nose, and caused me almost to fall off my
horse with laughter. Napoleon looked sternly at me; but at this moment
the troops getting in motion, the celebrated manoeuvre began, and his
Majesty's attention was taken off from my impudence.

Milhaud's Dragoons, their bands playing "Vive Henri Quatre," their
cuirasses gleaming in the sunshine, moved upon their own centre from the
left flank in the most brilliant order, while the Carbineers of Foy, and
the Grenadiers of the Guard under Drouet d'Erlon, executed a carambolade