of the iron-shod hoofs. Squadron after squadron came over
the ridge, like successive human waves; then, like a sea broken loose,
the flood of furious horsemen inundated the whole slope on which the
squares were drawn up. But each square, a tiny, immovable island of
red, with its fringe of smoke and steel and darting flame, stood
doggedly resolute. No French leader, however daring, ventured to ride
home on the very bayonets. The flood of maddened men and horses swung
sullenly back across the ridge, while the British gunners ran out and
scourged them with grape as they rode down the slope.

From four o'clock to six o'clock this amazing scene was repeated. No
less than thirteen times, it was reckoned, the French horsemen rode
over the ridge, and round the squares, and swept back wrecked and
baffled. In the later charges they came on at a trot, or even a walk,
and they rode through the British batteries and round the squares, in
the words of the Duke of Wellington, "as if they owned them." So dense
was the smoke that sometimes the British could not see their foes
until, through the whirling blackness, a line of lances and crested
helmets, or of tossing horse-heads, suddenly broke. Sometimes a single
horseman would ride up to the very points of the British bayonets and
strike at them with his sword, or fire a pistol at an officer, in the
hope of drawing the fire of the square prematurely, and thus giving his
comrades a chance of breaking it. With such cool courage did the
British squares endure the fiery rush of the French cavalry, that at
last the temper of the men grew almost scornful. They would growl out,
"Here come these fools again," as a fresh sweep of horsemen came on.
Sometimes the French squadrons came on at a trot; sometimes their
"charge" slackened down to a walk. Warlike enthusiasm had exhausted
itself. "The English squares and the French squadrons," says Lord
Anglesey, "seemed almost, for a short time, hardly taking notice of
each other."

In their later charges the French brought up some light batteries to
the crest of the British ridge, and opened fire at point-blank distance
on the solid squares. The front of the 1st Life Guards was broken by a
fire of this sort, and Gronow relates how the cuirassiers made a dash
at the opening. Captain Adair leaped into the gap, and killed with one
blow of his sword a French officer who had actually entered the square!
The British gunners always ran swiftly