On the afternoon of November 11 Campbell reviewed the relieving force at Buntera. It was modest in numbers—counting only about 4700 men. But war-hardened, and full of fiery yet disciplined daring, it was as efficient for all the purposes of battle as Napoleon’s Old Guard or Wellington’s famous Light Division. The cavalry brigade included two squadrons of the 9th Lancers, Hodson’s Horse, and three squadrons of native cavalry. The Naval Brigade was under Peel, the third son of the great Prime Minister of England, one of the most daring yet gentle spirits that ever fought and died for England. Evelyn Wood, who served under him as middy in the Crimea, describes him as “the bravest of the brave,” and yet “an ideal English gentleman.” “His dark brown wavy hair was carefully brushed back, disclosing a perfectly oval face, a high square forehead, and deep blue-grey eyes, which flashed when he was talking eagerly, as he often did.” The Artillery Brigade consisted of five batteries. The infantry was made up of detachments from the 4th, the 5th, the 23rd Fusileers, a wing of the 53rd, part of the 82nd, and the full strength of the 93rd Highlanders, with some Sikh regiments. The 93rd was 1000 strong, and 700 men in the ranks carried the Crimean medal on their breasts. It has been described as “the most Scotch of all the Highland regiments,” and a strong religious—as well as a rich Celtic—strain ran through its ranks. Forbes-Mitchell, indeed, who marched in its ranks, says the regiment constituted a sort of military Highland parish, ministers and elders complete. The elders were selected from among the men of all ranks, two sergeants, two corporals, and two privates. It had a regular service of communion plate, and the communion was administered to the whole regiment by its chaplain twice a year. The 93rd was drawn up in quarter-distance column on the extreme left of the line as Colin Campbell rode down to review his forces that November afternoon. It was in full Highland costume, with kilts and bonnets and wind-blown plumes. Campbell’s Celtic blood kindled when he reached the Highlanders. “Ninety-third!” he said, “you are my own lads; I rely on you to do the work.” And a voice from the ranks in broadest Doric answered, “Ay, ay, Sir Colin, ye ken us and we ken you; we’ll bring the women and children out of Lucknow or die wi’ you in the attempt.” And then from the steady ranks of the Highlanders there broke a shout, sudden and deep and stern, the shout of valiant men—the men of the hardy North—pledging themselves to valiant deeds. Here is the description given by an eye-witness of the little army, less than 5000 strong, but of such magnificent fighting quality, down whose ranks Colin Campbell rode as the November sun was going down:—