Meanwhile, Sir John Moore, satisfied that all would go well in the valley, turned his attention elsewhere.
The French attack was directed with greatest force against the three regiments already named as posted upon the right of the ridge. Their piquets, which occupied the little village of Elvina beyond the ridge, were driven in by the force of the enemy's onset, and Elvina for a time fell into the hands of the French.
This could not be allowed, and orders were given that the 42nd and the 50th should expel the foe from the village. Moore, always to be found at the point of greatest danger, was at hand. His voice could now be heard to ring out in his characteristic challenge—
"Highlanders—remember Egypt!"
Like greyhounds from the leash, in response to those beloved tones, they leaped to the charge, carrying everything before them. Moore, in his passionate ardour, charged with them, and he told the men that he was "well pleased" with their conduct.
Before Moore appeared, the officers and men of the 50th Regiment—ordered to advance with the 42nd—had been eagerly looking out for him, realising that this would be the crux of the English position, and feeling one and all that "under him they could not be beaten—" that, if only Moore were present, victory was absolutely secure. "Where is he? Where is the General?" was heard in restless murmurs along the line.
As they asked the question he came, bearing down upon them at headlong speed on his cream-coloured charger, a fiery animal, with flying black mane and tail tossed in the breeze. The force with which Sir John reined in flung him forward almost upon the horse's neck, while his head was thrown back, and he examined the enemy with a gaze of such extraordinary and searching intensity, that Charles Napier, in after years, seeking to picture the scene, could find no language with which he might fitly describe that look.
Without a word Moore then galloped off, but he soon returned; and hereabouts it was that, as he was speaking to Major Napier, a round shot from the heavy French guns on the height struck the ground between them.
Both horses swerved sharply, but Moore instantly urged his back to the same spot, asking calmly if Napier were hurt, and receiving a quiet "No, sir."
Then, while he watched the spirited charge of the 50th Regiment, led by Napier and Stanhope, he exclaimed—"Well done, Fiftieth! Well done, my Majors!"