ed in
masses to check our advance; in this way the morning was passed, when
towards noon we perceived that the enemy was drawn up in battle array,
occupying the height above the village of Redinha. This little straggling
village is situated in a hollow traversed by a narrow causeway which opens
by a long and dangerous defile upon a bridge, on either side of which a
dense wood afforded a shelter for light troops, while upon the commanding
eminence above a battery of heavy guns was seen in position.

In front of the village a brigade of artillery and a division of infantry
were drawn up so skilfully as to give the appearance of a considerable
force, so that when Lord Wellington came up he spent some time in examining
the enemy's position. Erskine's brigade was immediately ordered up, and the
Fifty-second and Ninety-fourth, and a company of the Forty-third were led
against the wooded slopes upon the French right. Picton simultaneously
attacked the left, and in less than an hour, both were successful, and
Ney's position was laid bare; his skirmishers, however, continued to hold
their ground in front, and La Ferriere, a colonel of hussars, dashing
boldly forward at this very moment, carried off fourteen prisoners from
the very front of our line. Deceived by the confidence of the enemy, Lord
Wellington now prepared for an attack in force. The infantry were therefore
formed into line, and, at the signal of three shots fired from the centre,
began their foremost movement.

Bending up a gentle curve, the whole plain glistened with the glancing
bayonets, and the troops marched majestically onward; while the light
artillery and the cavalry, bounding forward from the left and centre,
rushed eagerly towards the foe. One deafening discharge from the French
guns opened at the moment, with a general volley of small-arms. The smoke
for an instant obscured everything, and when that cleared away, no enemy
was to be seen.

The British pressed madly on, like heated blood-hounds; but when they
descended the slope, the village of Redinha was in flames, and the French
in full retreat beyond it. A single howitzer seemed our only trophy, and
even this we were not destined to boast of, for from the midst of the
crashing flame and dense smoke of the burning village, a troop of dragoons
rushed forward, and charging our infantry, carried it off. The struggle,
though but for a moment, cost them dear: twenty of their comrades lay dead
upon the spot;