All around him were men crouching, having ladders with which to scale the walls. Jack looked in vain for Colonel Harrington; he was nowhere to be seen. The excitement of the coming assault had, however, seized Jack, and for the moment he forgot the cause which had brought him there.
Troops continued to arrive, and it was known the Redan was the point of attack, while the French were again to attempt the Malakoff. At noon the bombardment was urged to a terrific blaze of fire, which poured from many embrasures until then kept closed.
Soon after twelve the signal for the French to storm was given by the explosion of two mines near the counterscarp, and in the confusion caused by the smoke and uproar, the Zouaves and Chasseurs rushed over the twenty-five yards dividing the ditch of the Malakoff from their own parallel, and taking the Russians completely by surprise, drove them out of the redoubt at the point of the bayonet. The tricolour was soon flying over the Malakoff. That was the signal for the English to attack the Redan.
The Russians opened a heavy fire of grape upon the trenches, doing much damage as the men clambered over the parapet. They had then to pass through a murderous fire of round-shot, grape, and musketry, and they fell in scores. Wildly dashing through, they charged over the three hundred yards that separated them from the Redan, into the ditch of which they scrambled. Men of different regiments became inextricably mixed. A dense mass were jammed on the salient of the Redan. They opened a heavy fire over the parapet upon the enemy in the interior of the work, though losing heavily from rifle and artillery fire the while.
Fresh troops continued to arrive, but there was no room on which to collect for a sudden rush into the Redan. Ammunition was constantly passed up and a continuous fire upon the interior was maintained. Hundreds fell on both sides, the ditch being actually covered with dead. At last the supply of ammunition gave out, perceiving which the enemy made a sudden rush upon the salient, and by sheer weight caused the attackers to fall back into the ditch on to the tops of bayonets, ladders, and poor wounded men who writhed in agony as they were crushed to death. Then the Russians stood upon the parapet and threw hand grenades, stones, and every conceivable missile upon the struggling mass below them.
An hour had passed, and the English had not yet captured the Redan. Then, after a heroic struggle, the survivors were being driven back for lack of supports. A fresh body of red-coats, men of the Buffs, and 41st, 90th, and 97th, made a rush forward, gallantly led by staff-officers. They came close by Jack just as a bullet struck the cocked hat from the head of one of the leaders. In an instant Jack had recognised him; it was Colonel Harrington, his uncle!
A young midshipman, badly wounded, lay close by Jack, his naked sword by his side. Fired by a sudden impulse, Jack snatched up the sword and rushed forward with the stormers. In an instant he was in a regular storm of grape and bullets, and men were falling quickly all round him. He made his way along, and was soon with the men who had been driven from the Redan.
These, men of all regiments, inextricably mixed, were firing steadily upon the Russians, holding their ground and waiting, waiting for the supports—supports which never came. Yet they hung on, losing men by tens and dozens.
Officers went back to try and get reinforcements; but General Codrington hesitated. Then the Royals sprang forward, and made a last attempt; but their formation was lost, and they were soon mixed up with the bleeding, panting, and exhausted crowd.
The guns from the Barrack and Garden Batteries poured in grape, and the Russians, issuing from the Redan, rushed on with the bayonet. A struggle that almost baffles description took place, and the British were borne back.