Suddenly loud shouts behind him announced that the bridge was forced; but the Camisards, instead of keeping the passage open for their leader, scattered over the plain and sought safety in flight.  But a child threw himself before them, pistol in hand.  It was Cavalier’s young brother, mounted on one of the small wild horses of Camargues of that Arab breed which was introduced into Languedoc by the Moors from Spain.  Carrying a sword and carbine proportioned to his size, the boy addressed the flying men.  “Where are you going?” he cried, “Instead of running away like cowards, line the river banks and oppose the enemy to facilitate my brother’s escape.”  Ashamed of having deserved such reproaches, the Camisards stopped, rallied, lined the banks of the river, and by keeping up a steady fire, covered Cavalier’s retreat, who crossed without having received a single wound, though his horse was riddled with bullets and he had been forced to change his sword three times.

Still the combat raged; but gradually Cavalier managed to retreat:  a plain cut by trenches, the falling darkness, a wood which afforded cover, all combined to help him at last.  Still his rearguard, harassed by the enemy, dotted the ground it passed over with its dead, until at last both victors and vanquished were swallowed up by night.  The fight had lasted ten hours, Cavalier had lost more than five hundred men, and the royals about a thousand.

“Cavalier,” says M. de Villars, in his Memoirs, “acted on this day in a way which astonished everyone.  For who could help being astonished to see a nobody, inexperienced in the art of warfare, bear himself in such difficult and trying circumstances like some great general?  At one period of the day he was followed everywhere by a dragoon; Cavalier shot at him and killed his horse.  The dragoon returned the shot, but missed.  Cavalier had two horses killed under him; the first time he caught a dragoon’s horse, the second time he made one of his own men dismount and go on foot.”

M. de Montrevel also showed himself to be a gallant soldier; wherever there was danger there was he, encouraging officers and soldiers by his example:  one Irish captain was killed at his side, another fatally wounded, and a third slightly hurt.  Grandval, on his part, had performed miracles:  his horse was shot under him, and M. de Montrevel replaced it by one of great value, on which he joined in the pursuit of the Camisards.  After this affair M, de Montrevel gave up his place to M. de Villars, leaving word for Cavalier that it was thus he took leave of his friends.

Although Cavalier came out of this battle with honour, compelling even his enemies to regard him as a man worthy of their steel, it had nevertheless destroyed the best part of his hopes.  He made a halt-near Pierredon to gather together the remnant of his troops, and truly it was but a remnant which remained.  Of those who came back the greater number were without weapons, for they had thrown them away in their flight.  Many were incapacitated for service by their wounds; and lastly, the cavalry could hardly be said to exist any longer, as the few men who survived had been obliged to abandon their horses, in order to get across the high ditches which were their only cover from the dragoons during the flight.