At about half-past eleven Napoleon’s troops advanced to the attack; and from this time till six or seven o’clock a series of terrific charges continued to be made by the French, resisted and defeated by the steady bravery of the British and Germans.

The duke was often in the thick of the fight, and in so great danger that his staff advised him for the good of the army to withdraw to a somewhat safer position.  Passing one of the squares of grenadiers a shell fell among them, and the duke waited to see the result.  Several soldiers were blown to pieces by the bursting of the shell, but Wellington seemed quite unmoved either by the terrible sight or his own danger.

All day long the duke was cool as if he had been riding among his men in Hyde Park.  Wherever he went a murmur of “Silence! stand to your front!” was heard, and at his presence men grew steady as on parade.

Again and again commanders told him of the fearful havoc made in the ranks of their brigades, and asked either for support or to be allowed to withdraw their men.  They generally received this answer, “It is impossible; you must hold the ground to the last man”.

When asked by some of his staff what they should do if he fell, he gave the same answer, “My plan is simply to stand my ground here to the last man”.

The duke seemed to bear a charmed life.  Every member of his staff but one was during the day either killed or wounded, whilst he escaped unhurt.  Wherever the danger seemed greatest there was the duke to be found inspiriting his men, restraining them, or putting fresh heart into them.

“Hard pounding this, gentlemen!” he remarked to a battalion on which the French shells were falling with destructive fury; “but we will try who can pound the longest.”  “Wait a little longer, my lads,” was the duke’s reply to the murmur which reached him from some of his troops who had suffered heavily from the French fire and were anxious to charge, “and you shall have your wish.”

Once when the fire was concentrated on the spot where he was with his staff he told them to separate a little, so as to afford a less conspicuous mark for the enemy.

At another time, when some German troops hesitated to advance against the French, the duke put himself at their head.

When Napoleon’s Old Guard was advancing up the hill, the only sight they could see was the duke and a few mounted officers, till a voice was heard, “Up, guards, and at them!” And the best men in the whole French army, the pick of the bravest of the brave, fell back before the onset of the British guards.

At about eight o’clock the duke gave the joyful signal for an advance all along the line.  For nearly nine hours the British had been stormed at with shot and shell, had been charged again and again, and had stood firm though impatient.  Now they received the signal with a fierce delight, and dashed forward against the enemy with a fury which nothing could resist.