"Tell him to march his men off the ground," said the Duke, with a quiet and impassive tone. In less than ten minutes the regiment was seen to defile from the mass, and take the road to Brussels, to increase the panic of that city, by circulating and strengthening the report, that the English were beaten,--and Napoleon in full march upon the capital. "What's Ney's force? can you guess, Sir?" said Lord Wellington turning to me. "About twelve thousand men, my lord." "Are the Guard among them?" "No, Sir; the Guard are in reserve above La Belle Alliance." "In what part of the field is Buonaparte?" "Nearly opposite to where we stand." "I told you, gentlemen, Hougoumont never was the great attack. The battle must be decided here," pointing, as he spoke, to the plain beneath us, where still Ney poured on his devoted columns, where yet the French cavalry rode down upon our firm squares. As he spoke an aid-de-camp rode up from the valley. "The ninety-second requires support, my lord: they cannot maintain their positions half an hour longer, without it." "Have they given way, Sir?" "No----" "Well, then, they must stand where they are. I hear cannon towards the left; yonder, near Frischermont." At this moment the light cavalry swept past the base of the hill on which we stood, hotly followed by the French heavy cuirassier brigade. Three of our guns were taken; and the cheering of the French infantry, as they advanced to the charge, presaged their hope of victory. "Do it, then," said the Duke, in reply to some whispered question of Lord Uxbridge; and shortly after the heavy trot of advancing squadrons was heard behind. They were the Life Guards and the Blues, who, with the first Dragoon Guards and the Enniskilleners, were formed into close column. "I know the ground, my Lord," said I to Lord Uxbridge. "Come along, Sir, come along," said he, as he threw his hussar jacket loosely behind him, to give freedom to his sword-arm.--"Forward, my men, forward; but steady, hold your horses in hand; threes about, and together charge." "Charge!" he shouted; while, as the word flew from squadron to squadron, each horseman bent upon his saddle, and that mighty mass, as though instinct with but one spirit, dashed like a thunder-bolt upon the column beneath them. The French, blown and exhausted, inferior beside in weight both of man and horse, offered but a short resistance. As the tall corn bends beneath the sweeping hurricane, wave succeeding wave, so did the steel-clad squadrons of France fall before the nervous arm of Britain's cavalry. Onward they went, carrying death and ruin before them, and never stayed their course, until the guns were recaptured, and the cuirassiers, repulsed, disordered, and broken, had retired beneath the protection of their artillery.