eir feet, their
gallant Major Ridge at their head. With a yell of vengeance they rushed
upon the foe; the glistening bayonets glanced amidst the cavalry of the
French; the troops pressed hotly home; and while the cuirassiers were
driven down the hill, the guns were recaptured, limbered up, and brought
away. This brilliant charge was the first recorded instance of cavalry
being assailed by infantry in line.

But the hill could no longer be held; the French were advancing on either
flank; overwhelming numbers pressed upon the front, and retreat was
unavoidable. The cavalry were ordered to the rear, and Picton's Division,
throwing themselves into squares, covered the retreating movement.

The French dragoons bore down upon every face of those devoted battalions;
the shouts of triumph cheered them as the earth trembled beneath their
charge,--but the British infantry, reserving their fire until the sabres
clanked with the bayonet, poured in a shattering volley, and the cry of the
wounded and the groans of the dying rose from the smoke around them.

Again and again the French came on; and the same fate ever awaited then.
The only movement in the British squares was closing up the spaces as their
comrades fell or sank wounded to the earth.

At last reinforcements came up from the left; the whole retreated across
the plain, until as they approached Guenaldo, our cavalry, having
re-formed, came to their aid with one crushing charge, which closed the
day.

That same night Lord Wellington fell back, and concentrating his troops
within a narrow loop of land bounded on either flank by the Coa, awaited
the arrival of the light division, which joined us at three in the morning.

The following day Marmont again made a demonstration of his force, but no
attack followed. The position was too formidable to be easily assailed, and
the experience of the preceding day had taught him that, however inferior
in numbers, the troops he was opposed to were as valiant as they were ably
commanded.

Soon after this, Marmont retired on the valley of the Tagus. Dorsenne also
fell back, and for the present at least, no further effort was made to
prosecute the invasion of Portugal.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE SAN PETRO.

"Not badly wounded, O'Malley, I hope?" said General Crawfurd, as I waited
upon him soon after the action.

I could not help starting at the question, while he repeated it, pointing
at the same time to my left shoulder, from