the whole of his army to show that he was going to fight
beside his men. As he passed, and the men saw what he
intended to do, they cheered and cheered, and took heart
so boldly that it was hard work to keep them from rushing
up the heights of Dettingen, where Gramont's 30,000
Frenchmen were waiting to shoot them down.

Across the river Marshal Noailles, the French
commander-in-chief, saw the sudden stir in the British
ranks, heard the roaring hurrahs, and supposed that his
enemies were going to be fairly caught against Gramont
in front. In this event he could finish their defeat
himself by an overwhelming attack in flank. Both his own
and Gramont's artillery now redoubled their fire, till
the British could hardly stand it. But then, to the rage
and despair of Noailles, Gramont's men, thinking the day
was theirs, suddenly left their strong position and
charged down on to the same level as the British, who
were only too pleased to meet them there. The king, seeing
what a happy turn things were taking, galloped along the
front of his army, waving his sword and calling out,
'Now, boys! Now for the honour of England!' His horse,
maddened by the din, plunged and reared, and would have
run away with him, straight in among the French, if a
young officer called Trapaud had not seized the reins.
The king then dismounted and put himself at the head of
his troops, where he remained fighting, sword in hand,
till the battle was over.

Wolfe and his major rode along the line of their regiment