tage,
the masses of the Russians now poured down the slope and threw
themselves upon the gallant British line. Bravely did the latter
resist, and with desperate courage strive to continue their advance; but
the enemy opposing them were equally brave and equally stubborn, and
moreover had the advantage of position and numbers. For a few moments
there was a seething mixture of red and grey coats, glittering bayonets,
and darts of flame; and then, broken by sheer weight, the British
retired upon the ranks of the now advancing second line.
Side by side Phil and Tony stepped forward with their comrades, and
almost in a dream plunged through the river and climbed the opposite
bank. But now the voices of their officers recalled their wandering
senses, and, falling into their places, the brigade of Guards pushed on
in perfect formation, with the Highlanders abreast of them.
What a scene it was! What excitement and what movement! A double line
of stalwart Guardsmen as well-ordered and as rigidly erect as if
drilling in the green parks at home; and in line with them brawny
Highlanders, all dripping with water, deafened by the crashing
artillery, and yet determined to a man to get to close quarters with the
enemy. And retiring upon them, war-worn, bedraggled, and bareheaded,
with faces and hands black with the smoke of powder, some limping
heavily, and others even crawling, came the gallant first line, loth to
turn their backs upon the foe, and yet compelled to do so by
overwhelming numbers. Had the second line advanced earlier it would
have supported them at the critical moment, but owing to the fact that
Lord Raglan and his staff had already crossed the river and ridden close
to Telegraph Hill, it received no direct order from him; and when it did
advance, it was on the responsibility of the division commander. But
now, opening its ranks for the moment to pass through the broken first
line, it marched at a rapid pace, and immediately plunged into the
tempest of bullets. Men fell to right and left, biting the dust and
struggling in their agony, while others lay motionless, sometimes with
contorted limbs and faces, and sometimes in peaceful repose as if
asleep, stirring not from the position in which death had found them.
Ah! it was war, red, cruel war, and well might that second line have
wavered and turned back. But theirs was not that sort of courage.
Determined to be beaten by nothing, they kept steadily marching
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