Arthur left orders for the Forty-eighth to remain on the plain and then, when he was satisfied that the danger had passed, turned and galloped back up to his vantage point on top of the ridge. The rest of the line had held off the French, who had pulled back to re-form their savaged columns. Looking over his own men,Arthur was shocked to see how many had fallen. Almost every battalion had closed its ranks, leaving large gaps along the line. If the French launched another attack then it would surely smash through the exhausted and bloodied redcoats.

When he returned to the crest he heard the sounds of fresh fighting coming from the valley on the other side of the ridge. Fearing a new threat Arthur anxiously rode forward until he had a clear view of the fighting below. Three large squares of French infantry were slowly picking their way back towards the Portina, followed up by the cavalry of the King’s German Legion, and a Spanish regiment that Cuesta must have sent to aid the British. The artillery further down the slope was taking advantage of the large targets being presented by the enemy and firing roundshot through their ranks as they retreated, leaving a scatter of blue-uniformed bodies in their wake.

As the French passed out of range of the British guns, they fell silent one after another and the cavalry withdrew and re-formed further down the valley to wait for the next French attack. Somerset joined his commander shortly afterwards, his face ashen and streaked with grime from the powder smoke of the desperate fight down on the plain.

Arthur greeted him with a faint smile. ‘I was beginning to fear you might have become a casualty. Where have you been?’

‘I stayed with Mackenzie’s brigade through the attack, sir.’

‘Ah, yes, I must remember to tender my thanks to him. That was a fine stand he and his men made.’

‘Mackenzie is dead, sir.’

‘Dead?’ Arthur’s expression hardened. ‘A pity.’

Somerset cleared his throat and continued hoarsely. ‘Together with seven hundred of his men. Cameron is dead as well. He was shot on the other side of the Portina.’

‘I see.’ Arthur nodded sadly.‘This is only the start of a long list, I fear. But we have no time to mourn them now. Later, after the battle. The French may still be game enough for another attempt to break us.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Somerset stiffened his spine and sat as erect as he could in his saddle. ‘I understand.’