I answered their chaff in the same strain, and rode off in good spirits, though sorry that the trusty Mecsey was not with me.
Everything went well on the journey. There was no likelihood of meeting with the Russians, and my worst enemies were the bad roads.
At night I slept three or four hours in a peasant's hut, entering Debreczin about noon next day.
The city was in the greatest uproar. The people crowded the streets talking excitedly, and the word "Russians" was on the tongue of every speaker.
Being fairly well acquainted with the district, I expected to find Nagy Sándor posted on the sandhills about a mile from and covering the town.
I had just cleared the city when a tremendous cannonade opened from the hills. It was Nagy Sándor's artillery showering grape and canister upon the enemy's advanced guard.
Spurring my horse vigorously I overtook the general, with several officers, riding to the scene of conflict.
He glanced at Görgei's note, thrust it into his pocket, told me to wait till the end of the battle, and dashed on to the hills where he had posted his masked battery.
Forty guns were belching forth canister and grape on the advancing Russians, who appeared to be taken by surprise.
They came on, however, in dense columns; but the iron hail was too much for them, and at last they went back beaten, amidst the cheers of our infantry massed behind the guns.