During the battle, a British artillery officer rode up to the duke of Wellington and said, “Your Grace, I have a distinct view of Napoleon, attended by his staff: my guns are well pointed in that direction, shall I open fire?” The Duke replied, “Certainly not, I will not allow it; it is not the business of commanders to fire upon each other.” From this it is evident that circumstances alter cases, as may be seen by the following expression of the Duke: “I cannot discover the policy of not hitting one’s enemy as hard as one can, and in the most vulnerable place.” (_Dispatches_, vol. XI, page 547.) Whilst the Duke was occupied intently in observing with his telescope a movement in the enemy’s line, some of their skirmishers were pressing on, and the musket-balls began to whistle round his Grace in such profusion, that colonel Gordon was induced to take the bridle of the Duke’s charger, and lead him forward to a hollow, where he was in shelter; and so intent was his Grace in observing the enemy, that it was accomplished without his noticing it. Throughout this long and trying day, the Duke was always to be seen where danger threatened, or difficulties arose, fearlessly passing from point to point, and constantly exposed to the fire of the enemy, protected doubtlessly by a merciful and all-wise Providence, to add still further lustre to his name by his continued services to his country. During the heat of the battle, the Duke was about to pass in front of a Nassau square, the troops composing which had served Napoleon, when several of his staff requested his Grace to pass by its rear: had he rode along the front, the simple process of pulling a single trigger might have blasted all our expectations, and injured the cause of Europe more than did the whole efforts of Napoleon and his army. The arms, clothing, and general bearing of the Nassau-men were truly French: their splendid rifle-green uniform, broad buff cross-belts, handsome white cased cap and tall black plume, produced a martial and imposing appearance. A hussar and a cuirassier had got entangled in the _mêlée_, and met in the plain, in full view of our line; the hussar was without a cap, and bleeding from a wound in the head, but that did not hinder him from attacking his steel-clad adversary. He soon proved that the strength of cavalry consist in good horsemanship, and the skilful use of the sword, and not in being clad in heavy defensive armour. The superiority of the hussar was visible the moment the swords crossed: after a few wheels a tremendous facer made the Frenchman reel in his saddle, and all his attempts to escape his more active foe became unavailing; a second blow stretched him on the ground, amidst the cheers of the light horseman’s comrades, the 3d German hussars, who were ardent spectators of the combat.