f escape, and the affair was at an end. This night's
_melee_ had no rival in the campaign; it put into our hands twelve
hundred of the best cavalry in the French army, and almost wholly
stripped the enemy of the means of protecting his flanks, while it made
a most brilliant figure in the Gazette--the true triumph of the British
soldier.

To me, it was a restoration to life from the depths of despair. It may
be perfectly true, that many a post has been surprised, and many an
officer captured, without being objects of penalty, or even of public
observation; but my case was different. My character as a soldier was
essential to my existence. The eyes of many, at home and abroad, were on
me; and the scorn of one, wherever she was, would have been fatal to me.
But of those bitter extremes I say no more; my spirit was buoyant with a
sense that I had done my duty in the most effective style. Nor was I
left to my solitary sense on the subject. My return to the chateau was
as triumphant as if I had gained a pitched battle at the head of a
hundred thousand men. Our fair guests, who had spent the hour before in
the terrors of instant capture, were boundless in their congratulations
and expressions of gratitude. The officers, to whom my defence had made
the entire difference between a French prison and liberty, spoke in the
manliest and most cheering terms of my conduct. The scene of the
struggle was visited during the next day by every officer of the army
who could obtain a horse and an hour's leave; and the report which was
forwarded to the commander-in-chief contained language which was
regarded as a sure pledge of promotion.

Guiscard hurried over to join in the congratulation. He had been
employed until a late hour in sending despatches to his court, relative
to the growing problems of our politics with Prussia; and taking the
first opportunity of throwing aside the envoy, he came at a gallop to
shake hands with me. His impatience to see the ground scarcely suffered
him to sit down at table; his toast to the brave British army was given,
and we went out to traverse the avenue. After having inspected every
corner of it with his keen military glance--"You will find my theory
right," said he; "war is always a succession of mistakes. There never
has been a battle fought, in which even the successful general could not
point out a series of his own blunders, any one of which might have
ruined him. The only distinction is, that there