f the
masses in their rear forced them to go on. The divisions actually
broke into a run. Again and again the British battalions spoke, the
black muskets in the hands of the red coats were tipped with redder
flame. It was not in human flesh and blood to sustain very long such a
fire.

It was a magnificent charge, gloriously delivered, and such was its
momentum that it almost came in touch with the English line. It did
not quite. That momentum was spent at last. The French deployed as
well as they could in the crowded space and at half-pistol-shot
distance began to return the English fire. The French guns joined in
the infernal tumult. The advance had been stopped, but it had not been
driven back. The French cavalry were now coming up. Before they
arrived that issue had to be decided. The critical moment was at hand,
and Wellington's superb judgment determined the action. He let loose
on them the heavy cavalry, led by the Scots Grays on their big horses.
As the ranks of the infantry opened to give them room, the men of the
Ninety-second Highlanders, mad with the enthusiasm of the moment,
caught the stirrup-straps of the Horse and, half running, half dragged,
joined in the charge.

The splendid body of heavy cavalry fell on the flank of the halted
columns. There was no time for the French to form a square. Nay more,
there was no room for them to form a square. In an instant, however,
they faced about and delivered a volley which did great execution, but
nothing could stop the maddened rush of the gigantic horsemen. Back on
the heights of Rossomme Napoleon, aroused from his lethargy at last,
stared at the great attack.

"_Mon Dieu!_" he exclaimed as he saw the tremendous onfall of the
cavalrymen upon his helpless infantry, "how terrible are those gray
horsemen!"

Yes, they were more terrible to the men at the point of contact than
they were to those back of La Belle Alliance. No infantry that ever
lived in the position in which the French found themselves could have
stood up against such a charge as that. Trampling, hacking, slashing,
thrusting, the horses biting and fighting like the men, the heavy
cavalry broke up two of the columns. The second and third began to
retreat under an awful fire. But the dash of the British troopers was
spent. They had become separated, disorganized. They had lost
coherence. The French cavalry now arrived on the scene. Admirably
handled, they were thrown on the s