It was a very ingenious arrangement when you think about it. Once engaged the Turks were obliged to come on as at first. If they should halt, even for an hour to mass a strong force, the Christian commander would overwhelm and annihilate the Moslem regiments upon the field. Despite the fact that several bodies of the Ottomans were utterly broken and driven from the field, the constant arrival of fresh Turks gradually increased their numbers until at noon they had fully twenty thousand men in action, opposed to about thirteen thousand of the Duc de Mercœur’s force. Up to this time five thousand of the Moslems and two thousand Christians had been put out of action. The former were constantly receiving fresh accessions to their numbers, whilst the regiments of the latter which had been most actively engaged during the morning could only be lightly employed thereafter. But the flower of Mercœur’s force had been held in reserve until this time. It consisted of five regiments of splendid cavalry--five thousand horsemen eager for the fray. The time had come to launch them against the enemy in support of the now hardly-pressed troops that had borne the burden of battle thus far. The commanders and men knew what was expected of them. They were prepared to meet odds of five to one and more if necessary. They had fed and watered their chargers, they had looked to their buckles and bits. Their pistols were loaded and primed and each had drained the flagon of wine handed to him by his horse-boy. They made a brave picture as they sat their champing steeds in glistening armor and with drawn swords awaiting the word to advance. Since each corps acted as an independent unit, we can only follow the fortunes of that which bore the brunt of the fierce fighting in the afternoon of that memorable autumn day. The regiment of Meldritch consisted of four companies, commanded respectively by the following captains: Duplaine, a Frenchman; Vahan and Culnitz, Germans; and the Englishman, John Smith. Each of these performed prodigies of valor before the fall of night and the dashing Duplaine met a soldier’s death upon the field. The Earl lost no time in taking his impatient men into action. Riding in their front, conspicuous by his great height and the scarlet plumes that surmounted his helmet, he led them towards a body of the enemy that had just entered the plain. Meldritch’s corps, in line of double rank, advanced at a trot, breaking into a hand-gallop as they approached the foe. Then, as the uplifted sword of the Earl gave the signal, they swept forward in a mighty charge and with a shout crashed through the line of Turks, overthrowing horse and rider in their impetuous course. In an instant the ground was strewn with dead and dying, with kicking animals and with men striving to get clear of the struggling mass. The victors rode among them slaying without mercy, whilst the remnant of the broken regiment fled in every direction.