As they ascended the ridge, the French Artillery suspended their fire; and the Allied Batteries commenced pouring a destructive shower of grape shot amidst their devoted ranks. Fiercely and fatally did this iron hail rattle against the helmed and steel clad _Cuirassiers_, here glancing off, there penetrating the armour; wounding or laying prostrate many a gallant warrior at the very moment when the brightest visions of glory had opened on his ardent imagination. This iron sleet, however, caused no perceptible check to their progress; and, with shouts of "_Vive l'Empereur!_" they accelerated their pace until, having arrived within about forty yards of the guns, they received the last and well prepared discharge. Its effects were terrific: but though their order was somewhat broken, their courage was not shaken. The charge was sounded; a cheer followed; and, in the next instant, they rushed up to the very cannon's mouth. In accordance with previous instructions given by the Duke of WELLINGTON himself, the Artillerymen withdrew, upon the close approach of the Cavalry, and sought shelter either beside, or in rear of, the Infantry Squares; or, where occasion required, they threw themselves under the projecting bayonets of the outer kneeling ranks for protection. The _Cuirassiers_, on crowning the crest of the ridge; and finding themselves so unexpectedly in possession of a Line of Batteries, shouted loudly forth their triumph; and, then renewing their onward charge, were, in a moment, lost to the view of the Lancers and _Chasseurs_ of the Guard. These troops, carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment and the eager desire to share in the fancied victory, advanced with the same fiery impetuosity, and the whole force was now fairly across the ridge.