great mass of the enemy came slowly on, the British line was
"dressed," the men ceased to talk, except in monosyllables, the
skirmishers lying flat on the trampled corn prepared to fire. The
grape of the French guns smote Picton's red lines with fury, and the
men fell fast, yet they closed up at the word of command with the most
perfect coolness. The French skirmishers, too, running forward with
great speed and daring, drove in the British skirmishers, who came
running back to the main line smoke-begrimed and breathless.

As the French masses began to ascend the British slope, the French guns
had to cease their fire for fear of striking their own forces. The
British infantry, too, being drawn slightly back from the crest, were
out of sight, and the leading French files saw nothing before them but
a cluster of British batteries and a this line of quickly retreating
skirmishers. A Dutch-Belgian brigade had, somehow, been placed on the
exterior slope of the hill, and when D'Erlon's huge battalions came on,
almost shaking the earth with their steady tread, the Dutch-Belgians
simply took to their heels and ran. They swept, a crowd of fugitives,
through the intervals of the British lines, and were received with
groans and hootings, the men with difficulty being restrained from
firing upon them.

A sand-pit lay in the track of the French columns on the left. This
was held by some companies of the 95th Rifles, and these opened a fire
so sudden and close and deadly that the huge mass of the French swung
almost involuntarily to the right, off its true track; then with fierce
roll of drums and shouts of "En avant!" the Frenchmen reached the
crest. Suddenly there rose before them Picton's steady lines, along
which there ran, in one red flame from end to end, a dreadful volley.
Again the fierce musketry crackled, and yet again. The Frenchmen tried
to deploy, and Picton, seizing the moment, ordered his lines to charge.
"Charge! charge!" he cried. "Hurrah!"

It is yet a matter keenly disputed as to whether or not D'Erlon's men
actually pierced the British line. It is alleged that the Highlanders
were thrown into confusion, and it is certain that Picton's last words
to his aide-de-camp, Captain Seymour, were, "Rally the Highlanders!"
Pack, too, appealed to the 92nd. "You must charge," he said; "all in
front have given way." However this may be, the British regiments
charged, and the swift and resolute advance of Picton's