“We were assailed,” describes a British officer in the Third Division, “by a multitude who, reinforced, again rallied and turned upon us with fury. The peals of musketry along the centre continued without intermission, the smoke was so thick that nothing to our left was distinguishable; some men of the Fifth Division got intermingled with ours; the dry grass was set on fire by the numerous cartridge-papers that strewed the battlefield; the air was scorching; and the smoke rolling onwards in huge volumes, nearly suffocated us.”
In the midst of the din and turmoil the Heavy Cavalry came suddenly on the scene. “A loud cheering was heard in our rear; the Brigade half turned round, supposing themselves about to be attacked by the French cavalry. A few seconds passed, the trampling of horses was heard, the smoke cleared away, and the Heavy Brigade of Le Marchant was seen coming forward in line at a canter. ‘Open right and left!’ was an order quickly obeyed; the line opened, and the cavalry passed through the intervals, and, forming rapidly in our front, prepared for their work.”
Catastrophe for the French assailants followed at once; swift, overwhelming, irremediable. The enemy in front had practically ceased to exist within the next twelve minutes. The entire French division and its supporting troops were struck down and shattered; broken to fragments and annihilated.
There was a “whirling cloud of dust, moving swiftly forward and carrying within its womb the trampling sound of a charging multitude. As it passed the left of the Third Division, Le Marchant’s heavy horsemen, flanked by Anson’s Light Cavalry, broke out at full speed, and the next instant 1,200 French infantry, formed in several lines, were trampled down with terrible clangour and tumult. Bewildered and blinded they cast away their arms and ran through the openings of the British squadron, stooping and demanding quarter, while the dragoons, big men on big horses, rode on hard, smiting with their long, glittering swords in uncontrollable power, and the Third Division, following at speed, shouted as the French masses fell in succession before this dreadful charge.”
So Napier describes the onset.
CHARGING DOWN AT FULL GALLOP
Startled and aghast at what they saw coming at them, the French attempted hastily to form squares. But Le Marchant’s impetuous squadrons were too quick for them. They came swooping down, the troopers galloping their hardest, with loosened reins, all racing forward, charging down with the irresistible sweep of an avalanche, and crashed into the midst of the ill-fated infantrymen before the squares could be formed.
Down on the enemy the cavalry thundered, 1,200 flashing British sabres. Three of the finest regiments of the British Army formed the brigade—the 3rd Dragoons, the “King’s Own”; the 4th, “Queen’s Own”; the 5th Dragoon Guards—strong and burly men on big-boned horses, and with sharp-edged swords. “Nec aspera terrent” was—and is—the fearless motto of the gallant “King’s Own,” who showed the way; and they flinched at nothing that day. “Vestigia nulla retrorsum” was—and is—the motto of the 5th, who closed the column; and dead and wounded and prisoners were the vestiges they left in rear on that stricken field.
General Edward Le Marchant, a daring and capable soldier—“a most noble officer,” was what Wellington called him—led them.
FOUR REGIMENTS CUT TO PIECES