"St. Denis for France!" he exclaimed, waving his baton, and ordered the Cavalry, which had covered his advance, to charge. Thus, in five minutes, the battle began in all its fury about six o'clock, A.M.: a battle in describing which I shall generally confine myself to a few personal episodes. On the Hanoverian Guards and the six regiments of British Infantry--our brave 12th, 20th, 23rd, 25th, or Edinburgh, 37th, and 51st--fell the chief fury of the action. They were all formed in one division, protected by a brigade of British artillery under Captains Drummond and MacBean; and we writhed in our saddles when we saw them knocked over like nine-pins--their red coats dotting all the green plain in our front; and yet no order was given for us to advance and support them. After repulsing the French Infantry they were assailed by a column of Swiss, with whom they exchanged several volleys at twenty yards distance. Shoulder to shoulder they stood, our splendid British Infantry, the rear-ranks filling up the gaps in front, the men never pausing under fire, save to wipe their pans, renew their priming, or change their flints, for none would fall to the rear. In the words of the old ballad-- "So closing up on every side, No slackness there was found," amid the fierce roar of musketry and the clouds of smoke which enveloped all the plain. Colonel Kingsley, at the head of a Cavalry regiment on our left, had two officers shot dead by his side, two horses killed under him, and he received a musket ball through his hat. Now the French brought up several _batardes_, as they term their eight-pounders, and the range of these extended to us, the cavalry of the second line. Almost immediately after these guns opened, I heard a half-stifled scream near me, and turning, saw Keith doubled in two, and falling from his horse mortally wounded and dying. A cannon-ball had torn away his bowels, and my heart was wrung on seeing him gasping beneath my horse's feet, while the memory of the prediction flashed upon me. He died in a few minutes. The great aim of the French marshals was now to drive in or destroy either flank of the allies. In endeavouring to effect this object, a charge of cavalry was made. The Household Troops of France, most of whom were noblesse, the red, grey, and black mousquetaires, with the carabiniers and gendarmerie, came boldly on. They were led by Prince Xavier of Saxony, brother of the Queen of France, a brave soldier, distinguished by his bearing, his splendid uniform, which was covered with orders, his sparkling diamond star and piebald charger. Forcing a passage, sword in hand, through the flank of our first line, he was advancing towards us, re-forming his glittering squadrons as they came on, when by order of the Marquis of Granby, we advanced to repel them.