he cuirassiers came riding up, and the retreat now sounding
through our ranks, we were obliged to fall back upon the infantry. The
French pursued us hotly; and so rapid was their movement, that before
Ramsey's brigade could limber up and away, their squadrons had surrounded
him and captured his guns.

"Where is Ramsey?" cried Crawfurd, as he galloped to the head of our
division. "Cut off--cut off! Taken, by G----! There he goes!" said he,
pointing with his finger, as a dense cloud of mingled smoke and dust moved
darkly across the plain. "Form into column once more!"

As he spoke, the dense mass before us seemed agitated by some mighty
commotion; the flashing of blades, and the rattling of small-arms, mingled
with shouts of triumph or defiance, burst forth, and the ominous cloud
lowering more darkly, seemed peopled by those in deadly strife. An English
cheer pealed high above all other sounds; a second followed; the mass was
rent asunder, and like the forked lightning from a thunder-cloud, Ramsey
rode forth at the head of his battery, the horses bounding madly, while the
guns sprang behind them like things of no weight; the gunners leaped to
their places, and fighting hand to hand with the French cavalry, they flew
across the plain.

"Nobly done, gallant Ramsey!" said a voice behind me. I turned at the
sound; it was Lord Wellington who spoke. My eye fixed upon his stern
features, I forgot all else; when he suddenly recalled me to my
recollection by saying,--

"Follow your brigade, sir. Charge!"

In an instant I was with my people, who, intervening betwixt Ramsey and his
pursuers, repulsed the enemy with loss, and carried off several prisoners.
The French, however, came up in greater strength; overwhelming masses of
cavalry came sweeping upon us, and we were obliged to retire behind the
light division, which rapidly formed into squares to resist the cavalry.
The Seventh Division, which was more advanced, were, however, too late for
this movement, and before they could effect their formation, the French
were upon them. At this moment they owed their safety to the Chasseurs
Britanniques, who poured in a flanking fire, so close, and with so deadly
an aim, that their foes recoiled, beaten and bewildered.

Meanwhile the French had become masters of Pogo Velho; the formidable
masses had nearly outflanked us on the right. The battle was lost if we
could not fall back upon our original position, and concentrate our force
up