Adam's Light Infantry Brigade had, in the mean time, been steadily advancing from the moment of its charge upon the Left Flank of the Second attacking Column of the French Imperial Guard, sweeping along the front of the Right Centre of the Anglo-Allied position, and bringing forward its left shoulders as it neared the Charleroi road, so that its Left skirted the Orchard of La Haye Sainte. It had now reached the hollow immediately under the nearest French Height which was intersected by that road, and upon which the troops that had composed the first attacking Column of the Guard had been rallied by Napoleon, and formed into three Squares. The 2nd Regiment of Chasseurs of the Old Guard having formed the extreme Left of the attacking force had been closely observed by Lieutenant Colonel Halkett, who continued to follow it very steadily with the Osnabrück Landwehr Battalion as it retired towards the high road, inclining to La Belle Alliance.
Wellington, perceiving the confusion in which the Columns of the French Imperial Guard fell back after the decided failure of their attack—a confusion which was evidently extending itself with wonderful rapidity to a vast portion of the troops in their vicinity who witnessed their discomfiture; remarking also the beautiful advance of Vivian's Hussar Brigade against the French Reserves posted close to La Belle Alliance, and in the very heart of Napoleon's position; as well as the steady and triumphant march of Adam's Brigade, which, driving a host of fugitives before it, had now closely approached the nearest rise of the French position contiguous to the Charleroi road; finally, observing that Bülow's movement upon Planchenoit had begun to take effect, perceiving the fire of his cannon, and being also aware that part of a Prussian Corps had joined his own Left by Ohain,—he ordered a General Advance of the whole of his Line of Infantry, supported by the Cavalry and Artillery.
As this long wished for command rapidly passed along the Line, loud and joyous were the shouts with which it was received. The passive endurance, not unaccompanied by murmurs, with which the Allied troops had, during so many hours, withstood the incessant attacks of Cavalry, Infantry, and Artillery, to which so vast, so awful, a proportion of their comrades had fallen a sacrifice, now gave place to feelings of intense exultation, of intoxicating triumph. At the same time, when they saw that the Advance was general, that the Enemy had retired in confusion from his last grand attack, and that the Brigades detached to the front were boldly assailing his Reserves, the conviction flashed across their minds that if the Duke had hitherto resisted their demands to be led to the attack, his consummate and unerring judgement had caused him to defer the advance until that attack could be undertaken with every probability of success.
Just at this decisive moment, the faint rays of the setting sun shone forth, and as they struggled to penetrate the almost universal haze created by the hitherto unremitting volumes of smoke which a close dense atmosphere appeared incapable of altogether dissipating, they cast upon the varied and multitudinous objects on the Field, a lurid light, imparting to them a colouring so strikingly impressive, as can never be effaced from the memories of those who witnessed that magnificent Battle scene.
In front of the Line, on the rise occupied by Maitland's Brigade of Guards, stood prominently in view, the great and noble Duke himself, his hat raised high in air, as the signal for the commencement of the General Advance; leaders in front of their Divisions and Brigades, appearing, by their animated gestures, to take their tone from their great Chieftain; unfurled Colours raised aloft, proudly displaying their shattered remnants; drums, bugles, trumpets, sending forth their warlike sounds to commingle with the enthusiastic and tumultuous cheering of the troops; Artillerymen occupied in working out their guns from the soft soil in which they had become so deeply imbedded; Squadrons and Supports pressing forward to gain the ridge, as this became vacated by the First Line, to behold, and participate in, the glorious triumph; numerous isolated Soldiers, hurrying on, wherever they could be spared from attending the wounded, to join their ranks, and share in the inspiring excitement of such a moment; in the distance, in front, the retiring masses of the French, intermingled with crowds of fugitives of all Arms, mounted and dismounted; far away to the left, the dark Columns of the Prussians, and the smoke ascending from their Batteries; on the right, and somewhat in advance, the dense vapour still slowly circling upwards from the glowing embers of Hougomont, assuming a reddish glare as it floated over the heads of the brave defenders of that Post of Honour;—all appeared to the eyes of the beholder illumined, as it were, by a light partaking rather of the supernatural, than of the ordinary effects of sunshine. It was of brief duration. The sun sank rapidly below the horizon, and if the gorgeous colouring which departed with it had been congenial to the exhilarated feelings of the victors; so, in an equal degree, must the succeeding twilight, rendered still more gloomy by a clouded sky, have toned in with the dejected and gloomy spirits of the vanquished. With these there prevailed no other sentiments than those of a vexed and mortified perplexity, or an extreme dismay. The panic which had set in was extending itself wildly and speedily throughout the Line, and despondency was depicted in every countenance.
The Duke galloped off to Adam's Brigade, which was then in the valley immediately below the Height on which the three Squares of the French Guard were posted; and as these appeared inclined to make a stand, he ordered Adam to attack them. The latter, however, suggested to his Grace that as the Brigade, in consequence of its rapid advance over the heavy soil in the valley, encumbered as the latter was with dead and dying men and horses, both singly and in heaps, had become somewhat loose in its formation, it might be advisable to halt it, to allow the Files to close in. This was accordingly done. But after a few moments only had elapsed, the Duke said, "They won't stand—better attack them;" and being at the time close to the Colours of the centre Regiment (the 52nd), he called out, "Go on, Colborne, go on!"
Colonel Sir Colin Campbell now rejoined the Duke, and explained the grounds upon which Vivian had decided upon attacking the French Cavalry Reserves: on learning which Lord Uxbridge, who was present, determined upon personally leading the attack with the Hussars, and participating in the final and decisive triumph of the British Cavalry; and was on the point of darting off to that part of the Field, when his intentions were suddenly frustrated by a grape shot from a Battery on the Height above him striking and severely wounding his right leg.
Reluctantly compelled to desist from further exertion, this gallant and noble warrior, who had so bravely, so chivalrously, so skilfully, and so successfully, led the British Cavalry throughout the day, had still the satisfaction of feeling and knowing that although not permitted to witness the closing triumph of that branch of the Service of which he was at once the Chief, the ornament, and pride, he had well and truly performed his duty to his Sovereign and his country. He was supported for some moments by Sir Colin Campbell, and shortly afterwards, with the assistance of a party of the 23rd Light Dragoons, carried into the high road, along which he was borne to Waterloo; and, when subsequently undergoing, at that Village, the necessary operation of amputation, so great were the satisfaction and contentment which had been wrought in his mind as he calmly reflected on the brilliant exploits that had marked the arduous and varied struggle, that observing the anxious and compassionate looks of his friends around his couch, he exclaimed, "Who would not lose a leg for such a victory?"