the same, the
column is at an obvious disadvantage when attacking the line. It was
so in this instance. Although it was magnificently led by Ney and
d'Erlon in person, and although it comprised troops of the highest
order, the division commanders being men of superb courage and
resolution, no valor, no determination could make up for these
disadvantages. The tremendous artillery-fire of the French, which did
great execution among the English, kept them down until the dark
columns of infantry mounting the ridge got in the way of the French
guns which, of course, ceased to fire.

The drums were rolling madly, the Frenchmen were cheering loudly when
the ridge was suddenly covered with long red lines. There were not
many blue-coated allies left. Many of them had already laid down their
lives; of the survivors more were exhausted by the fierce battling of
the preceding days when the Belgians had nobly sustained the fighting
traditions of a race to which nearly two thousand years before Caesar
himself had borne testimony. As a matter of fact, most of the allies
were moved to the rear. They did not leave the field. They were
formed up again back of the battle line to constitute the reserve. The
English did not intend to flee either. They were not accustomed to it
and they saw no reason for doing it now.

Wellington moved the heavy cavalry over to support the threatened point
of the line and bade his soldiers restrain their fire. There was
something ominous in the silent, steady, rock-like red wall. It was
much more threatening to the mercuric Gallic spirit than the shouting
of the French was to the unemotional English disposition. Still, they
came intrepidly on.

Meanwhile, renewed attacks were hurled against the chateau and the
farmhouse. Ney and d'Erlon had determined to break the English line
with the bayonet. Suddenly, when the French came within point-blank
range, the English awoke to action. The English guns hurled shot into
the close-ranked masses, each discharge doing frightful execution.
Ney's horse was shot from under him at the first fire. But the
unwounded Marshal scrambled to his feet and, mounting another horse,
pressed on.

The slow-moving ranks were nearer. At point-blank range the English
infantrymen now opened fire. Shattering discharges were poured upon
the French. The fronts of the divisions were obliterated. The men in
advance who survived would have given back, but the pressure o