But they had also ordained
that this day of gloom and sorrow should bring such honour to me
as had never come when I swept on the wings of victory from
Boulogne to Vienna.
Never had I burned so brilliantly as at that supreme moment when
the darkness fell upon all around me. You are aware that I was
faithful to the Emperor in his adversity, and that I refused to
sell my sword and my honour to the Bourbons. Never again was I
to feel my war horse between my knees, never again to hear the
kettledrums and silver trumpets behind me as I rode in front of
my little rascals. But it comforts my heart, my friends, and it
brings the tears to my eyes, to think how great I was upon that
last day of my soldier life, and to remember that of all the
remarkable exploits which have won me the love of so many
beautiful women, and the respect of so many noble men, there was
none which, in splendour, in audacity, and in the great end which
was attained, could compare with my famous ride upon the night of
June 18th, 1815.
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