in between Lumley's dragoons
and the hill, where they were charged by some French cavalry, whom they
beat off, and meantime Cole led his fusiliers up the contested height.
At this time six guns were in the enemy's possession, the whole of
Werle's reserves were coming forward to reinforce the front column of
the French, the remnant of Houghton's brigade could no longer maintain
its ground, the field was heaped with carcasses, the lancers were riding
furiously about the captured artillery on the upper parts of the
hill, and behind all, Hamilton's Portuguese and Alten's Germans, now
withdrawing from the bridge, seemed to be in full retreat. Soon,
however, Cole's fusiliers, flanked by a battalion of the Lusitanian
legion under Colonel Hawkshawe, mounted the hill, drove off the lancers,
recovered five of the captured guns and one colour, and appeared on the
right of Houghton's brigade, precisely as Abercrombie passed it on the
left.

Such a gallant line, issuing from the midst of the smoke, and rapidly
separating itself from the confused and broken multitude, startled the
enemy's masses, which were increasing and pressing onwards as to an
assured victory; they wavered, hesitated, and then vomiting forth a
storm of fire, hastily endeavoured to enlarge their front, while a
fearful discharge of grape from all their artillery whistled through the
British ranks. Myers was killed, Cole and the three colonels, Ellis,
Blakeney, and Hawkshawe, fell wounded, and the fusilier battalions,
struck by the iron tempest, reeled and staggered like sinking ships; but
suddenly and sternly recovering, they closed on their terrible enemies,
and then was seen with what a strength and majesty the British soldier
fights. In vain did Soult with voice and gesture animate his Frenchmen;
in vain did the hardiest veterans break from the crowded columns and
sacrifice their lives to gain time for the mass to open out on such a
fair field; in vain did the mass itself bear up, and, fiercely striving,
fire indiscriminately upon friends and foes, while the horsemen,
hovering on the flank, threatened to charge the advancing line. Nothing
could stop that astonishing infantry. No sudden burst of undisciplined
valour, no nervous enthusiasm weakened the stability of their order,
their flashing eyes were bent on the dark columns in their front, their
measured tread shook the ground, their dreadful volleys swept away
the head of every formation, their deafening shout