Like a stream of red light, the rapid musketry poured death over the summit of the dark earthen bank, and we saw the Imperialists falling over each other, like fish shaken out of a net; while the thirsty soil literally smoked with their Austrian blood. There was a momentary pause! But the ranks were closed up; the colours were bent forward, and their officers with brandished pikes and rapiers led them on. A lurid streak of fire ran along their ranks; closely and simultaneously it flashed from all the levelled muzzles, and a hail-storm of bullets was poured against us, but they generally sank thick and fast into the breastwork, or swept harmlessly over our heads. A few rattled among our helmets, and I heard a heavy clattering on my right and left, as a few of our soldiers fell prone with all their accoutrements on the ground.
On pressed the undaunted foe with tumultuous shouts; with standards waving and hoarse drums beating rapidly, they spread before us like a glittering mass, and our men fired point-blank into it, being sure, as the colonel said, that "every bullet would kill more than its man."
"To your duty! to your duty! my brave hearts of Strathnaver! level low, and level surely!" exclaimed our colonel, waving his sword over the parapet, his scarlet plaid and rich Spanish doublet making him the aim of a hundred muskets. "They break, but they do not recoil; they are again advancing. Well done, men of Lochnaver-side—my father's people! To your duty, clan Aoidh, clan Vurich, and clan Chattan!" he added, to compliment and encourage the men of the various tribes who composed the regiment.
Ian, M'Coll of that Ilk, Munro of Culcraigie, M'Kenzie of Kildon, and others, imitated his example; and a wild Highland cheer responded to the bold chieftain of Mackay, the hero of a hundred feudal conflicts and daring creaghs; while the rattle of brass buts and ramrods, the casting about of muskets, with the incessant and rapid fire volleyed over the breastwork, evinced how arduously our soldiers fought; and every time the smoke cleared away, we saw the brave pikemen of Camargo, and the hardy musketeers of Merodé writhing on the ground, and rolling over each other in their agony. In many places there were others who lay still enough indeed.
Led by officers of the most heroic courage and devoted zeal,—among whom I recognised the Count of Carlstein, conspicuous by his brilliant armour, red plume, and beautiful horse, brandishing Ironhewer—again the first column flung themselves like a living sea against the redoubt, and leaped into the rough trench, officers and musketeers, pikemen and halberdiers, pell-mell, with standards, scaling-ladders, axes, and sledge-hammers.
"Pikes against stormers," cried Sir Donald; "pikemen to the front—shoulder to shoulder, my children! Fire, musketeers!—fire low, and push with your pikes, my gallant pikemen! The bullet misses, but the pike never. To your duty, my brave duinewassals—my true Scottish cavaliers! Claymore—claymore and biodag!"
Loaded to their muzzles with musket-shot and grape, our cannon, swept the ditch, and cleared it of all but the dead and the dying, who lay there in frightful heaps, with their maimed bodies and torn armour drenched in that red current which the thirsty soil imbibed. Again and again they came on, and again and again we repelled them—maintaining the pass against them for two hours with the most desperate valour.
Thrice I saw the count—the brave father of Ernestine—fall, when, struck by successive shots, his horse sank under him; but he seemed to have a charmed life, and thrice his noble horse was again dragged to its feet by the assistance of Count Kœningheim, his aide-de-camp, whose sword-arm was tied up by a blood-stained scarf. Thus was the contest continued until our men became exhausted by casting about their muskets, and their bandoleers were emptied.
We then fell back and gave place to our left wing under Ian; again the fury of the Imperialists was severely curbed, and again the deadly strife was renewed with them, till the encumbered ditch was almost piled breast-high with dead. For every Highlandman who lay killed or wounded behind the redoubt, at least ten Austrians lay before it; for in showers our cannon shot tore through their dense ranks, which were eight and twelve deep, an ancient order of battle which Tilly obstinately retained, and which is coeval with the wars of Julius Caesar.
To me this carnage was nothing then; my blood was fairly roused, and the poor shattered fragments of humanity that lay in the trench, were of little more moment than the fallen leaves of a forest. Yet I could recall the time when I had shuddered at the puncture of a doctor's lancet; but none save an old soldier can know how (for a time) such scenes will harden the human heart.