On the 3rd of September, at a quarter past 9 P.M., a heavy fire of musketry to the left of the Malakoff showed that the enemy were attacking. The night was dark, but clear, and for half an hour our lines were a blaze of quick, intermittent light. The musketry rattled incessantly. Chapman's and Gordon's Batteries opened with all their voices, and the Redan, Malakoff, Garden, and Barrack Batteries replied with roars of ordnance. When the musketry fire flickered and died out, commenced for a quarter of an hour a general whirling of shells, so that the light of the very stars was eclipsed, and their dominion usurped by the wandering flight of these iron orbs. Twenty or thirty of these curves of fire tearing the air asunder and uttering their shrill "tu whit! tu whit! tu whit!" as they described their angry flight in the sky, could be counted and heard at once. While it lasted, it was one of the hottest affairs we have yet experienced.
A party of the 97th, under Captain Hutton, was posted in the advanced trench of the left of the Right Attack. The Russians attacked our working party and drove it in. Lieutenant Brinkley and Lieutenant Preston, with 100 of the 97th, were ordered to proceed to the right of the new sap. On arriving at the trench they found it crowded with the 23rd, that it was impossible to keep the party of the 97th together. This crowded state of the trench is said to have arisen from the 23rd not having recommenced working, and remaining in the trench with the covering party of the 77th, when the firing ceased. At 12.30 Lieutenant-Colonel Legh, 97th, was ordered to take his men to Colonel Bunbury, 23rd, who was in advance of the new sap. He collected forty-five rank and file, and telling Lieutenant Preston to advance with the rest, proceeded to the head of the sap. Here Lieutenant Preston was hit, and one man killed. About fifteen yards in front of the sap were stationed Colonel Bunbury and a party of the 77th, under Captain Pechell. That party having been relieved by the 97th, Colonel Legh placed his men in cover, sending out two parties under Sergeants Coleman and O'Grady in advance. The Russians all of a sudden gave a loud cheer, and the 97th stood up, expecting a rush. When the Russians saw the effect of their ruse, they fired a volley, Lieutenant Preston, in front of Colonel Legh, was mortally wounded, and carried to the rear by Sergeant Coleman; Sergeant O'Grady fell dead just as he had demanded permission to take the enemy's rifle-pits. Lieutenants Ware and Whitehead were sent down to assist. Ware was wounded; but Lieutenant Whitehead succeeded in bringing in all the wounded, except Corporal Macks, who was lying close to the rifle-pit with two legs broken. Lieutenant Brinkley came up in support. The Russians retired from the pits before dawn, having put 3 officers and 24 men hors de combat. The Russians lost at least 600 men. The French loss was upwards of 300 men hors de combat.
CHAPTER V.
Last Bombardment—Splendid View of the Position from Cathcart's Hill—French Signal for the Attack—An Iron Storm—Paralysation of the Russians—Strength of French and English Batteries—Furious and rapid Cannonade—Perturbed Movements amongst Russians—Joy on Cathcart's Hill—"Ships touched at last!"—One descried to be on Fire—Conjectures amongst Spectators as to the Cause—Agitation in Sebastopol—Partial Silence of Russian Guns—Awful Explosion—Council of Generals—British Losses.
AT last, on the morning of the 5th of September, the Allied batteries opened fire for the sixth time, and the LAST BOMBARDMENT commenced. A gentle breeze from the south-east, which continued all day, drifted over the steppe, and blew gently into Sebastopol. The sun shone serenely through the vapours of early morning and wreaths of snowy clouds, on the long lines of white houses inside those rugged defences of earth and gabionnade which have so long kept our armies gazing in vain on this "august city." The ships floated on the waters of the roads, which were smooth as a mirror, and reflected the forms of these "monarchs of the main." Outside our own fleet and that of the French were reposing between Kasatch and Constantine as idly as though they were "painted ships upon a painted ocean."
A TERRIFIC AND "SQUELCHING" VOLLEY.
From Cathcart's Hill, therefore, on the right front of the Fourth Division camp, one could gain an admirable view of certain points of the position from the sea on the left to our extreme right at Inkerman. That advantage was, however, rarely obtainable when there was any heavy firing, as the smoke generally hung in thick clouds between the earthworks, not to be easily dispelled, excepting by the aid of a brisk wind. If one of the few persons who were in the secret of the opening of the French batteries had been on Cathcart's Hill on the morning of the 5th he would have beheld then, just before half-past five o'clock, the whole of this scene marked out in keen detail in the clear morning air. The men in our trenches might have been seen sitting down behind the traverses, or strolling about in the rear of the parapets. Small trains of animals and files of men might have been continually observed passing over the ground between the trenches and the camp, and the only smoke that caught the eye rose from the kettles of the soldiery, or from the discharge of a rifle in the advanced works. On the left, however, the French trenches were crowded with men, and their batteries were all manned, though the occupants kept well out of sight of the enemy, and the mantlets and screens were down before the muzzles of some of their guns. The men beneath the parapets swarmed like bees. A few grey-coated Russians might have been noticed repairing the works of the Flagstaff Battery, or engaged in throwing up a new work, which promised to be of considerable strength, in front of the second line of their defences.
Suddenly, close to the Bastion du Mât, along the earthen curtain between Nos. 7 and 8 Bastions, three jets of flame sprang up into the air and hurled up as many pillars of earth and dust, a hundred feet high, which were warmed into ruddy hues by the horizontal rays of the sun. The French had exploded three fougasses to blow in the counterscarp, and to serve as a signal to their men. In a moment, from the sea to the Dockyard Creek, a stream of fire three miles in length seemed to run like a train from battery to battery, and fleecy, curling, rich white smoke ascended, as though the earth had suddenly been rent in the throes of an earthquake, and was vomiting forth the material of her volcanoes. The lines of the French trenches were at once covered as though the very clouds of heaven had settled down upon them, and were whirled about in spiral jets, in festoons, in clustering bunches, in columns and in sheets, all commingled, involved together, and uniting as it were by the vehement flames beneath. The crash of such a tremendous fire must have been appalling, but the wind and the peculiar condition of the atmosphere did not permit the sound to produce any great effect in our camp; in the city, for the same reason, the noise must have been terrific and horrible. The iron storm tore over the Russian lines, tossing up, as if in sport, jets of earth and dust, rending asunder gabions, and "squelching" the parapets, or dashing in amongst the houses and ruins in their rear. The terrible files of this flying army, extending about four miles in front, rushed across the plain, carrying death and terror in their train, swept with heavy and irresistible wings the Russian flanks, and searched their centre to the core. A volley so startling, simultaneous, and tremendously powerful, was probably never before discharged since cannon were introduced.
The Russians seemed for a while utterly paralysed. Their batteries were not manned with strength enough to enable them to reply to such an overlapping and crushing fire; but the French, leaping to their guns with astounding energy, rapidity, and vigour, kept on filling the very air with the hurling storm, and sent it in unbroken fury against their enemies. More than 200 pieces of artillery of large calibre, admirably served and well directed, played incessantly upon the hostile lines. In a few moments a great veil of smoke—"a war-cloud rolling dun"—spread from the guns on the left of Sebastopol; but the roar of the shot did not cease, and the cannonade now pealed forth in great irregular bursts, now died away into hoarse murmurs, again swelled up into tumult, or rattled from one extremity to the other of the line like the file-fire of infantry. Stone walls at once went down before the discharge, but the earthworks yawned to receive shot and shell alike. However, so swift and incessant was the passage of these missiles through the embrasures and along the top of the parapets, that the enemy had to lie close, and scarcely dare show themselves in the front line of their defences. For a few minutes the French had it all their own way, and appeared to be on the point of sweeping away the place without resistance. This did not last long, as after, they had fired a few rounds from each of their numerous guns, the Russian artillerymen got to work, and began to return the fire. They made good practice, but fired slowly and with precision, as if they could not afford to throw away an ounce of powder. The French were stimulated rather than restrained by such a reply to their astonishing volleys, and sent their shot with greater rapidity along the line of the defences, and among the houses of the town. Our Naval Brigade and siege train maintained their usual destructive and solid "hammering" away at the faces of the Redan and of the Malakoff, and aided our Allies by shell practice on the batteries from the Creek to the Redan. Now two or three mortars from Gordon's, then two or three mortars from Chapman's, hurled 10 and 13-inch shell behind the enemy's works, and connected the discharges by rounds from long 32's or 68's.
The French had obtained a great superiority in the number of their guns. On the 5th their armament was as follows:—