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equerries try to beat the tide back with their whips; with a finer understanding of Napoleonic strategy than most of his generals, the rabbit horde divided into two wings and poured round the flanks of the party and headed for the Imperial Coach. Taken en flagrant délit, Napoleon had no option but to beat a hasty and disgruntled retreat for Paris, but the coach had already started to move before the last furry invader had been flung from the window. Berthier never really lived down this incident; consequently when Napoleon at another shoot managed to wound Marshal Massena in the eye, the abashed chief of staff was induced to shoulder the blame. Indeed, the pleasures of the chase proved considerably more eventful and certainly more dangerous for senior personnel than many a battlefield.