This part of the battle ended in a series of independent fights, which broke our line of continuity, and enabled the Russians for a time to occupy the Fore Ridge. A French regiment came now to the rescue, outflanked the enemy, and drove them back.
But another terrible attack was soon made by the persistent foe.
Once more their great guns, about a hundred in all, ploughed the crest with shot and shell; once more our centre was attacked by the columns that rushed up from the Quarry Ravine. And this fight was the most desperate of all.
For a time the Russians were so far successful that they not only took and occupied the crest, but drove our troops back from the head of Careenage Ravine, capturing and spiking some of our guns.
The main column of the Russians meanwhile came on after, and passing our troops at the Barrier, hurried on to support their front lines. But these had been driven back by the French, and so the main body had to encounter victors.
Bloody and terrible was the stand the foe made, however, and fearful were the losses they encountered. They reeled, they struggled, and finally fell back.
For a time after this the fight raged all about the head of the Quarry Ravine and Sand-bag Battery, and once the French themselves were all but beaten, and lost ground. They were reinforced in time, however, and soon after this the battle was in a measure decided. We got bigger guns to bear now upon Shell Hill, and a great artillery fight took place. This and a daring attack by our infantry caused Dannenberg to retreat at last. And neither our troops nor those of the French were in a position to follow up his retreat.
So ended this bloody battle: Dannenberg sullenly retiring; the allies too weak, too exhausted to follow up their victory by a final and triumphant charge.
They say that so utterly worn out were our brave fellows, and the French as well, that no wild spirit of exultation followed victory; and when the gloaming of that sad day fell upon the field of battle, there was little to break the silence—now that the enemy had fled back to the great fortress—save the mournful moaning of the wounded.
The carnage on this field was fearful, especially all about the Fore Ridge and between that and the cliffs, where we are told the dead lay in swathes. So numerous were they that it was difficult to walk, far less to ride, through these lines without stumbling over the bodies of the slain.