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sabres

n. (plural of sabre English)

Usage examples of "sabres".

The black-coated Brunswickers, some with bloodied sabres, reinforced the Dutch-Belgians who followed their Prince out into the wide expanse of field where the French skirmishers still raked the redcoats with musket-fire.

They spurred towards it, the trumpet rang out its curdling charge, the Chasseurs screamed revenge, raised their sabres, and died.

The Hussars drew their sabres to drive the unarmed men back into the river, but French artillery had already closed on the southern bank and, as soon as the Hussars went into the trot, the first roundshot slammed across the water.

Lieutenant Richard Sharpe, waiting for orders in his billet on the outskirts of town, watched the cavalry sheath their sabres as the last spectators were left behind and then he turned back to the job of unwinding the dirty bandage from his thigh.

They had fired a volley terrifying in its noise and smoke, but their enemy was suddenly on them, the horses baring their teeth through the veils of musket smoke, the riders tall in their stirrups, shrieking, sabres aloft, and galloping straight for them.

The French sabres came down right and left, more Spaniards broke from the mass, the colours went down, they were sprinting towards the British square, desperate for its safety.

They had been forced into a crude ring, pressed back by horsemen, and they fought off the sabres and hooves with sword and bayonet.

They held no sabres, and Sharpe knew what was in the mind of the French Colonel.

The British square, or what was left of it, had held and the light cavalry sabres could not break it.

The Captain who had come before was there and with him two troopers, who looked curiously at the charnel house their sabres had created.

Sharpe, and Knowles remembered the sabres, the smell of fear, and gripped his sword tightly.

He wanted to fire his first volley now, to stop the French horses while they were a hundred paces away, but he controlled the fear and watched the horsemen walk forward, watched as a hundred sabres rasped from their scabbards and caught the afternoon sun in ranks of curved light.

More horses fell, more men were pitched from their saddles in a flurry of arms, legs, sabres and scabbards.

Hundreds would die, mangled by roundshot, sliced by cavalry sabres, pierced by musket shot, yet still the town was busy.

He had been given command of a cavalry brigade, a mere twelve hundred sabres, while men he thought less talented than himself commanded whole divisions.