And the men run hither, thither
In a search for the assailants,
When a noise of tramping horses,
Through the river-bridge, attracts them.
’Twas a feint arranged beforehand,
To delude the Regimentals,
And they dashed on to the outskirts,
Dashed the wild, bewildered Cornstalks,
In a wayward false direction.
The young Guards meanwhile crept onward,