Men and horses rolled over before the iron shower, but the squadrons closed up their gaps and rode straight forward, with sabres flashing in the sun, leaving the plain behind them dotted with killed and wounded.
Again, as they neared the battery, the iron shower swept through their ranks; then with a mighty shout they dashed upon the guns.

Brief was the struggle here.

The Russian gunners were cut down, and gathering together, boot to boot, the British cavalry rode straight at a Russian line of infantry which formed up 100 yards behind the guns, poured a volley into them.

There was no pause, but straight, and with the shock of an avalanche, they hurled themselves at the Russians.

There was a yell, a crash, the clash of sabre on bayonet, the shout of the victor, the scream of the dying, and the British horsemen burst through the Russian line.