"At this time the party were standing in a line close to their horses, with their backs to the kraal and their faces turned eastward, the Prince being in front and nearest to the Zulus. Then with a tremendous cry, 'Usutu!' and 'Lo, the English cowards!' the savages rushed on. The horses immediately swerved, and some broke away. An undoubted panic seized the party; every one who could spring on his horse mounted and galloped for his life. There was no thought, no idea of standing fast and resisting this sudden attack. The Prince was unwounded, but unable to mount his charger, which was sixteen hands high and always difficult to mount. On this occasion the horse became so frightened by the firing and sudden stampeding as to rear and prance in such a manner as to make it impossible for the Prince to gain the saddle. Many of the others saw the difficulty, but none waited or tried to give the least assistance. One by one they rushed their horses past, Private le Tocq exclaiming as he went by, lying across his saddle, 'Depechez-vous, s'il vous plait, monsieur!' The Prince, making no reply, strained every nerve, but, alas! in vain, to gain the back of his horse, holding his stirrup-leather with his left hand and the saddle with his right. With the help of the holster he made one desperate effort, but the holster partially gave way, and it must have been then that the horse trod upon him and galloped off, leaving his master prostrate on the ground. The Prince then regained his feet and ran after his friends, who were far in advance. Twelve or thirteen Zulus were at this time only a few feet behind him. The Prince then turned round, and, sword in hand, faced his pursuers. From the first he had never called for help, and now died bravely with his face to the foes, fighting courageously to the last. "It is thought that the Zulus hurled their assegais at him, and that he quickly fell dead, pierced through the eye by a mortal wound." There is a certain sad satisfaction in remembering that this noble youth, the hope of France, the worthy descendant of a great name, should have died as a soldier and without more than a moment's suffering. The rest of the party had galloped off at full speed, thinking each was engaged in the business of getting away. Lieutenant Carey, who has been blamed for not having stood by the Prince in his perilous position, shouted orders and imagined they were followed, and in his hasty retreat had not time to do more than believe the whole party thus surprised were galloping away together. Arguments regarding this deplorable affair have been so many that it is best to quote the evidence taken at the court-martial and the statement of Lieutenant Carey:--