The 95th rifles were soon in the midst of the broken French infantry, over which the two cavalries had ridden; they took a vast number of prisoners and sent them to the rear. The rifles then reoccupied the knoll and sand-pit, and Baring’s gallant Germans the little garden and orchard of La Haye-Sainte, from whence the enemy had been driven.
Ponsonby’s brigade had advanced close up to the ridge, and was waiting the proper moment to charge; for the French columns on Kempt’s left, having had nothing in their front to check them after Byland retreated, were making through the hedges that lined the road. Part of the Royal dragoons dashed into the head of the enemy’s column in their front, and at the same moment a portion of the 28th regiment brought their right shoulders forward and fired a volley into its left flank. At this time, part of Pack’s brigade, formed of the redoubtable remains of the 92d Highlanders, was in rear of the ridge, their left brought forward, resting in front of the brushwood upon the knoll on our left. Part of another French column had passed the straggling hedge, and were pressing on towards the position of this brigade, bearing directly on its left. This handful of tried soldiers, partially aided by the Royal Scots and 42d Highlanders, immediately advanced in order to come to close quarters with the enemy, whose fire they received without returning, until within thirty yards; they then threw in a concentrated and destructive volley, which completely staggered the French, who however soon sufficiently recovered themselves to return the fire. At this moment, the Scots Greys came up, and the Highlanders opened out to let them pass. The wild shrill squeaking bagpipes, mixed with the shouting of “Scotland for ever!” heightened the national enthusiasm, and many of them, breaking from their ranks, caught hold of the Grey’s stirrups to be able to keep up with them, and to take their part in completing the destruction of the enemy.
“Where stream’d fair Scotia’s banners high,
Or nodded where her bonnets blue,
Where peal’d the bagpipe’s deafening cry,
Or where the varied tartans flew:
There did the rush of battle burst,
Blazing the deadly fight begun;
There did the shouts of triumph first
Proclaim the Gallic host undone.”