(My mind was playing with the memory and spent the day teasing out what I did during that insane retreat. Here's what I wrote about it elsewhere:)

Because I was mulling it, and for compulsiveness...

I think the basic thing I was doing was using my archers, English longbowmen in this case, as bait for heavy cavalry.

Those were the heavy lancers of either the French or the Spanish empire, and, given that I remain at least 90% convinced it was indeed Napoleon who spoke to me, that would make them the fearsome French cuirassiers.
Archers are meat for those guys.
And the fact that I thought of deliberately dangling those archers, with no windup or time to think, proves that I should never be trusted with anything ever.

What I was doing - somehow timing the first time right - was swinging the formation of archers off to one side, where they were totally exposed, and having them rain arrows on the enemy.

When the enemy cavalry went for them, I darted my own much smaller contingent of cavalry in between and blocked them . . .

Blocked them just long enough for my heavy foot infantry to get in so that I could pull my overmatched horses straight back out.
My heavy infantry would have been some mix of pikemen and musketeers. They were better at holding the enemy cavalry, especially the pikes - far too few to do it, but holding them for just a second . . .

Because meanwhile I had already told my archers to match over to the other side - too far to the side again - exposing themselves again - and then starting again to shoot at the enemy.
Who broke contact with my heavy infantry and turned and lunged again - and my own cavalry darted in between - while my guys on foot rushed to catch up...
Etc.
All of which sounds like such intense engagement with the enemy that you'd imagine me going forward - but I did it in heels. I was going backward. All my moves canted backward. All the way home. Not all the way across a meadow - all the way across really two big meadows, with a little wooded transition between the two, as I recall. It felt like real-world distance. I nearly felt mud.
Those guys shouldn't have made it five horse-lengths.

It was like walking in a heavy diving suit on the bottom of the ocean - finding yourself face to face with a Carcharadon megalodon, that instantly attacks . . . and surviving by frantically waving your hands around so that the monster only takes dozens of little snaps at your fingertips.
The horde never absorbed me. It just kept turning.

I don't think of anything even slightly involved that fast.

And if I ever take it into my head to consciously try doing that, my copy of Age of Empires III should have me court-martialed and shot.