Soon after the third division had reached its destination, a column of French descended a hill _en masse_ on our extreme right, towards the village of Miranda. Three eighteen-pounders opened on them, which took full effect, and spoiled their regularity. The enemy hesitated, while the discharges of our heavy ordnance were overthrowing all opposition. They went to the right-about to get out of range. Our columns, formed behind the Table Mountain, now debouched in double time, showing the French Marshal that the long-expected crisis was at hand. A sharp fire of musketry opened on some companies of the seventh fusileers, supported by the light companies of the foot guards, as they broke through the village of the Arapiles at half-past two. The third division had already brought up their right shoulders, and were pushing on very successfully, when the enemy's horse furiously charged the grenadiers and right of the 5th regiment, while advancing in line, which they repulsed and continued their movement. The fire gradually increasing, at half-past four the armies were well in contact. The musketry rolled without intermission, only interrupted by the still louder artillery. The fourth division, breathless, amidst showers of grape, musketry, and round-shot, had succeeded in planting their standards on the crest of the enemy's position; but at that moment a French division, in close column, and at a run, with fixed bayonets, forced them down the hill, whilst others advanced on their left flank, which was exposed, and carried the centre of the battle again into the valley; but our heavy cavalry, in the right centre, were bearing down all opposition, driving the left of the enemy before them, and putting them into the greatest confusion. Major-General Le Marchant was killed heading this charge. Marshal Beresford[38], Generals Leith, Cole, and Alten, were wounded. On the part of the French that fell, were the Duke of Ragusa, Generals Fercy, Thomieres, Desgraviers, Bonnet, Clausel, and Menne, besides their losing numerous prisoners, standards, and cannon. At six the battle was at the height—no cessation of musketry, and the cannon of both armies thundering away as if there were to be no end of it. The columns of smoke and dust were rolling up in dense volumes, so that the atmosphere became dark above the bloody scene; yet there was not a cloud to be descried, except those which arose from the battle. A Spanish peasant was looking on with his arms folded; I heard him exclaim, "_Que grandisimo mundo!_[39]" The inhabitants of Salamanca were crowding the places of public worship, to offer up prayers for the success of our arms. _Apropos_, it was Sunday.