With swords bared, we started at a trot, increasing the pace as we approached the enemy.
The ground for the most part was flat, but there were several sandhills or banks, and from one of these a storm of shot ploughed into us as we rode by.
The fire was so severe and unexpected that a regiment of young soldiers would have been thrown into confusion; but these veterans only shook their fists, vowing to capture the battery on their return.
Our horses had got into their stride now, and we were fairly racing over the level ground.
It was the first time I had taken part in a cavalry charge, and the blood ran hot in my veins.
The colonel rode upright as a dart and stiff as a poker, but I, more accustomed to a horse's back on the broad plains than in a military riding-school, rode in a much easier though less dignified position.
That men and horses were thoroughly well drilled one glance would have shown. In spite of the artillery fire and the speed at which we rode, there were no gaps. The horses raced neck by neck, with equal strides, and the whole regiment went forward like a piece of machinery.
The Austrian battalions stood quite firm to receive us, and as we got nearer I doubted very much if we could break through that solid mass.
But Görgei had not sent us to do the work alone. On our left, farther down the field, several squadrons, springing up unexpectedly, were riding straight at the battalions, and we, seeing this, cheered excitedly.
"Forward!" shouted the colonel, rising in his stirrups, "and keep together!"