icard in his main battle line between Friant on
the road and the river on the left. The guard, with Maurice's cavalry
d'elite, he posted on the edge of the woodland, north of Montmirail,
ready to throw to the northwestward to Marmont, or to the west to the
support of Ney and Friant, as events might determine. These
dispositions were barely completed before the battle was joined by the
Russian advance.

Sacken, who really outnumbered the forces opposed to him by at least
two thousand men, since Mortier's corps, guarding the northwest road,
was perforce inactive, and since six thousand men had been left at
Champaubert under Marmont to retain Bluecher, attacked with the utmost
stubbornness and gallantry. He could make no impression on Friant,
echeloned on the main road, and before the resolute resistance his
advancing divisions slowly obliqued to the right toward another walled
farmhouse, called Epine-aux-Bois, in a stretch of lowland watered by a
brook.

Napoleon, seeing the whole course of the battle clearly, laid a trap
for him. He withdrew Nansouty from the battle, and ordered Ricard, in
command of his extreme left, to retreat slowly, fighting as if
defeated. Sacken, as he saw the wavering on his right, threw his
heaviest battalions and regiments upon that point, and attacked with
headlong impetuosity. At the same time he had enough men left to keep
Friant busy and in check. Napoleon, seeing the success of his ruse,
suddenly brought up the Guard. He threw it around the right flank of
Friant, and Sacken's left immediately began to give way. Ricard
stopped his retreat suddenly and stood like a stone wall. His
withdrawing Eagles moved forward. The advance of the Russian right
stopped also, the Muscovite officers and soldiers were greatly amazed
by the sudden resistance of an enemy retreating a moment since. One
division of the Guard moved out to the support of Friant, who also
advanced. The other division joined Mortier, who was in a hot fight
with Yorck's cavalry and light infantry. Napoleon now turned to
General Maurice, who had ridden up in advance of his horsemen.

"There"--he pointed down the hill toward the dark masses of the Russian
right--"there's your chance, General."

The Comte de Vivonne needed but the word. Turning in his saddle he
raised his sword. His cavalry had been waiting with unconcealed
impatience during the morning. Eagerly they responded to the command.
Dashing down the hill th