"Remember, men, there is no retreat from here. You must die where you stand."
One and the same answer rose readily to every lip—
"Ay! ay! Sir Colin; we'll do that!" shouted the gallant Scots.[1]
[1] Historical. cf. Kinglake's "Crimea," v. 80.
Their veteran leader's head was clear; his temper cool and self-possessed. He held these brave hearts in hand like the rider of a high-couraged horse, and knew well when to restrain, when to let go.
As the Russians approached, a few eager spirits would have rushed forward from their ranks to encounter their foe in the open plain; but Sir Colin's trumpet voice checked them with a fierce—
"Ninety-third! Ninety-third! None of that eagerness!"
And then a minute or two later came the signal for the whole line to advance. The Highlanders, and those with them, swiftly mounted to the crest of the ridge, and met the charging cavalry with a withering volley. A second followed. The enemy had no stomach for more; reining in their horses, they wheeled round and fell back as they had come.
This, however, was only the beginning of the action. Heavy columns of the enemy now appeared in sight, cavalry and infantry, with numerous artillery crowning the eastern hills. A portion occupied the redoubts abandoned by the Turks, and the attitude of the Russians was so menacing that it seemed unlikely we could stay their onward progress.
For the moment no troops could be interposed but the British cavalry—the two brigades, Light and Heavy—which had their encampment in the plain, and had been under arms, commanded by Lord Lucan, since daybreak.