“Stuart, keep one troop in reserve, the other two come on with me—steady, my men—forwards, charge.” The two bodies of cavalry clashed together. The soldiers had not had time nor space to get to their full speed; their charge therefore lost the effect it would have had, if the order had been received a minute sooner. It was sufficient to check the advance of the rioters, and no more. They had still to conquer their antagonists, who in this sort of encounter, hand to hand, and man to man, were opponents not to be despised. For some minutes the conflict was savagely and equally maintained on both sides. The smugglers fought desperately, as men with halters around their necks. After a while the better horsemanship and swordsmanship of the dragoons began to prevail, rendered doubly effective by the consciousness of superiority, which habitual use gives a man in the practice of his profession. At first, by the light of the blazing houses, the soldiers, easily distinguished by their bright shakos from the smugglers, who had fur caps on their heads, seemed completely outnumbered. They clung, however, closely together, and amid all the flashing of swords, and firing of pistols, moved steadily on, a compact, well-disciplined body; by degrees they appeared more adequate to the other party in point of numbers, and to be pressing their adversaries back; still the conflict raged—the smugglers rallied—for a moment even turned the tide of war in their favour. It was their last effort. Presently one, and then another of them withdrew himself from the _mêlée_, and, with frocks stained with gore, galloped out of the town. Soon two or three small parties from the same side fled hastily in a similar direction. On this the soldiers, perceiving their advantage, redoubled their efforts, and fairly established their superiority, though some of the most desperate of the smugglers, Emlett among the number, with his head uncovered, and streaming with blood, fought on, without receding an inch. At last he, and his more immediate followers falling, the remainder seemed to give up all hope at once; and turning their horses’ heads, endeavoured to save themselves by the rapidity of their flight. The dragoons pursued them without mercy to the end of the street, both parties dashing through the mob of peasantry, who were coming forward to the support of their friends. There, having received orders from Warenne on no account to venture into the open country, the dragoons wheeled round, and returned to clear the town of the foot people. But these last, as soon as they discovered the result of the fight, did not wait to be dispersed. Throwing away their weapons, and plunging into the by-streets, they made the best of their way to the fields, and to darkness.