And had it not been for some stray troops landing They knew not where, being carried by the stream To some spot, where they lost their understanding, And wandered up and down as in a dream, Until they reached, as daybreak was expanding, That which a portal to their eyes did seem,-- The great and gay Koutousow might have lain Where three parts of his column yet remain.[448] LXXIII. And scrambling round the rampart, these same troops, After the taking of the "Cavalier,"[449] Just as Koutousow's most "forlorn" of "hopes" Took, like chameleons, some slight tinge of fear, Opened the gate called "Kilia," to the groups[450] Of baffled heroes, who stood shyly near, Sliding knee-deep in lately frozen mud, Now thawed into a marsh of human blood. LXXIV. The Kozacks, or, if so you please, Cossacques-- (I don't much pique myself upon orthography, So that I do not grossly err in facts, Statistics, tactics, politics, and geography)-- Having been used to serve on horses' backs, And no great dilettanti in topography Of fortresses, but fighting where it pleases Their chiefs to order,--were all cut to pieces.[451] LXXV. Their column, though the Turkish batteries thundered Upon them, ne'ertheless had reached the rampart,[452] And naturally thought they could have plundered The city, without being farther hampered; But as it happens to brave men, they blundered-- The Turks at first pretended to have scampered, Only to draw them 'twixt two bastion corners,[453] From whence they sallied on those Christian scorners. LXXVI. Then being taken by the tail--a taking Fatal to bishops as to soldiers--these[ih] Cossacques were all cut off as day was breaking, And found their lives were let at a short lease-- But perished without shivering or shaking, Leaving as ladders their heaped carcasses, O'er which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi Marched with the brave battalion of Polouzki:--[454] LXXVII. This valiant man killed all the Turks he met, But could not eat them, being in his turn Slain by some Mussulmans,[455] who would not yet, Without resistance, see their city burn. The walls were won, but 't was an even bet Which of the armies would have cause to mourn: 'T was blow for blow, disputing inch by inch, For one would not retreat, nor 't other flinch. LXXVIII.