A competent critic could
detect no brilliant strategy in the operations so far; no astute,
carefully calculated plan directed the march. One simple and primitive
idea possessed the minds of the allied commanders, and that was to
come to close quarters, and fight the Russians wherever they could be
found.
There could be only one termination to such a military policy as this
when every hour lessened the distance between the opposing forces. At
the end of the first day's march, most toilsome and trying to troops
still harassed by fell disease, it was plain that the enemy were close
at hand. Large bodies of their cavalry hung black and menacing along
our front--the advance guards these of a large force in position
behind. Any moment might bring on a collision. It was nearly
precipitated, and prematurely, by the action of our horse--a small
handful of cavalry, led by a fiery impatient soldier, eager, like all
under his command, to cross swords with the enemy.
A couple of English cavalry regiments had been pushed forward to
reconnoitre the strength of the Russians. The horsemen rode out in
gallant style, but were checked by artillery fire; a British battery
galloped up and replied. Presently the round-shot bounded like cricket
balls, but at murderous pace, across the plain. More cavalry went
forward on our side, and two whole infantry divisions, in one of which
was the Royal Picts, followed in support.
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