Just then the dense blue-uniformed masses of French infantry were seen moving forward to attack the Russian right. They advanced with a deal of dash, artillery supporting them. Soon a tremendous cannonade was in full progress, and the English line was halted till the French had achieved their object.
Presently the English again moved forward, and the objects on the other side of the river became plain. It was then about one o’clock, the day was hot and cloudless; the sun shone down on what, had they not been advancing in the grim reality of war, would have been a glorious spectacle. Arms glittered, plumes waved, colours fluttered. Scarlet-coated light infantry, fated to bear the brunt of that day’s fighting, sombre-clad Riflemen, kilted Highlanders, bearskinned Guards, gaily braided artillerymen—all moved forward in the most beautiful order. No haste, no uncertainty; everything staid, orderly, majestic. Arrived within about a mile of the river, the British regiments began to deploy, and with the utmost coolness and precision moved forward for attack.
Presently a boom was heard from the position in front of Jack’s division, and a round-shot came ripping across the river. Another and another followed, and soon a tremendous cannonade was opened on the English. Jack felt a sort of tightening of his heartstrings as the thunder of the artillery began; but the feeling of nervous anxiety died away when he saw with what absolute indifference to danger our gallant infantrymen deployed under a heavy fire.
The Lancers were dismounted and a field-artillery battery was passing them on its way to the front when the reins suddenly dropped from a driver’s hands; he gave a sort of gasp, and then fell heavily on the ground.
‘Sunstroke,’ said Sergeant Barrymore, who was close by Jack, and running to the artilleryman he turned him on his back and dragged him away from the wheels of the guns. As he did so, the front of the man’s tunic was seen to be wet with blood. A splinter of shell had struck him in the heart! He was the first Englishman killed that day, and Sergeant Barrymore, new to war, went silently back to his horse.
Presently the Lancers were ordered to mount, and a further advance was made till they were pretty close to the river. Musket and rifle balls began to hum over their heads, and they were again dismounted. From the spot where Jack was he could obtain a very good view of the field, and, his heart throbbing wildly, he gazed upon the fascinating scene. The round-shot were now causing considerable execution, and the regiments of the Light Division were ordered to lie down. Here a terrible trial of passive endurance awaited them. Round-shot tore through them, shells exploded over them, while a shower of bullets pinged and buzzed about them. Casualties were frequent, but the gallant fellows, few of whom had ever been under fire before, bore their trial bravely. They laughed and joked, and as they watched the dread guns which were spreading death and destruction amongst them they began to distinguish their different sounds. Then men were heard remarking, ‘Look out, Bill, here’s Shrieking Eliza coming again!’ or ‘There goes Barking Tom!’
Every now and then a mighty blast of wind would sweep by a soldier, the earth would receive a shattering shock, and what one instant was a living soldier would next be a shapeless mass. His comrades would rise and gently carry his remains to the rear; then resume their places. This went on for a terrible time, till even the iron nerves of the British soldiers began to feel the strain.
‘We ain’t afraid of dying,’ said a man of the 33rd to his captain; ‘but we’d like to have a smack at they Rooshians. Lead us on, sir; lead us on.’
‘Steady, men—steady,’ was the reply; ‘we shall get our chance directly.’ And the intrepid officers would walk up and down in front of their companies to inspire confidence in the men.
The British were waiting till the French had effected the turning movement; but they were in difficulties, and time passed slowly. The Light Division began to murmur; a lull took place in the battle. Affairs seemed critical.