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might sieze his troops, and render then unmanageable, immediately sent off an Aide de camp to the English Squadron, (who, by a mistake of a Staff Officer, had been left in the rear) with the order, “Al frente Los Ingleses”. Front form Squadron, shouted the Commandante, as they moved by files in their place of column. The little Squadron wheeled rapidly into line, trot — canter — The General and his staff vivaing and waving their hats as they galloped past, charge, and with a most infernal shout, comprising the war cries of every nation in Europe, the Squadron, not numbering more than 100 horses, was in the midst of more than 800 Carlists, flushed with victory, and presenting an ugly appearance to the little troop which now charged them.

The Officer commanding the Squadron, an immensely powerful young Irishman, was the first amongst them, as he charged, in