Repairs to the works—Death of corporal Fraser—Conduct of private Orr—Improviséd church—Perseverance in the quarries—Segmental trench in front of them—Successful exertions of the miners—Yenikale—Cape St. Paul—Detail of sappers furnished for the trenches—Completion of defences in the lodgment—Casualties in a party mending a trench bridge—State of the works—Platforms—What is an embrasure?—Destruction of one—Its repair—Casualties—A tolerated grumbler—Generous conduct of corporal Lockwood—Fourth bombardment; preparations for assault—Vigorous conduct of sergeant Anderson in repairing the electric wires—And of corporal Borbidge in renewing a platform for a sea-service mortar—First storming of the Redan—Chivalric behaviour of private Head—Casualties—Conduct of the sappers in the assault—Volunteer services of sergeant Drew and corporal Jenkins—They rescue some of the wounded—So also does private Ramsay—Brigadier-General Eyre’s column in the cemetery grounds—Valiant behaviour of corporal Baker—General casualties—Death of Lord Raglan.

No time was lost in making the most of the position won by the gallantry of the besiegers; but on the 8th June, owing to the exhausted state of the troops from the labours of the previous night, no working party could be provided for the right attack. Fifty-two sappers, however, took their places as usual in the lines, repairing embrasures, improving the cover of the quarries, and deepening the communications to them. To preserve their energies, they were employed in four reliefs of four hours each throughout the day. Very heavy was the firing from the Russian batteries during the first relief, occasioning many casualties among the guard of the trenches and harassing though not interrupting the workmen. On the left there were 150 linesmen and 38 sappers scattered over the trenches, restoring demolished embrasures and parapets, and re-roofing magazines torn up by shells.

While thus employed in No. 10 battery situated on a central projection of the second parallel, second-corporal James Fraser—a fearless young non-commissioned officer—was killed. Fraser was working in an embrasure—a mere crag, so complete was its disruption—patching up the left cheek with sandbags, while corporal McEachern was reconstructing the right one. The firing on the battery was very fierce, but the two corporals, stript to their trousers and shirts, toiled away with dauntless perseverance. “Never mind the rascals,” said Fraser, with an encouraging smile, “we’ll finish it in spite of them.” Such was his determination; but a few moments after, he was blown from the embrasure by a round shot, which carried away his right arm and the whole of his breast and ribs, exposing his quivering heart. McEachern heard the shot pass and felt the heat which its velocity imparted; and on turning round to see how his comrade had fared, he saw him doubled up on a pile of projectiles and the gunners and workmen gathering up his remains. McEachern had seen too many such catastrophes to slacken his energies, and so resuming the work as if nothing had happened he left it only when the cheeks were finished.

Private John Malcolm, an hour after, was sent into the same embrasure to clear the sole, as the gun in its rear could not be sufficiently depressed to fire with advantage. Stripped to the work, he was shovelling away the debris, when a splinter from a shell struck him severely on the head. At the instant, he fell from the aperture to the platform, and the next moment a shower of fierce stones fell on him, fretting his flannel shirt as if a rasp had torn it up and wounding him in both shoulders.

In the night following there were 59 sappers in the front, who were succeeded next morning by 71 men. Many laboured at the different batteries and privates John Sykes and William Orr, in charge of No. 10 battery, left attack, were named to Lord Raglan as having behaved with conspicuous zeal and coolness in removing the debris of broken gabions and split-bags from the disfigured embrasures and rebuilding the cheeks. So heavy was the fire at the time, that one gun was disabled in the battery and some of the artillery carriages injured. General Jones was an eye-witness of the manly way in which Orr entered the embrasures between the rounds of fire, and of his unruffled exertions to clear the soles and mend the revetments; and when the general had it in his power to mark, in a substantial manner, his appreciation of the private’s intrepid demeanour, he obtained for him a “distinguished service” medal and a gratuity of five pounds.

Before nightfall the lodgment was made completely defensible, and a chevaux-de-frise was fixed, in the shape of a half moon, by a few sapper blacksmiths, some distance in front, to protect the working parties from sudden assaults.

It was about this time that the companies, in the midst of their exertions and trials, eked out sufficient leisure from their camp duties to show their reliance upon that religion which alone could sustain and console them in vicissitude and peril. The edifice they erected in which to offer up their devotions was characteristic, and the following account of it, transcribed from the ‘Daily News,’ gives a fair view of the details of this improviséd and unique military cathedral:—

“One among the many interesting objects in the British camp before Sebastopol is the Sappers’ church, ‘right attack,’ where the Rev. Mr. Taylor officiates. Its structure affords an excellent example of the adaptation of local circumstances to a particular object. It is built wholly of siege apparatus; but these are neither injured nor rendered unfit for their ultimate purpose; on the contrary, the materials are so arranged that they are only in store, as it were, ready for use as soon as required. The articles employed in the construction have been scaling-ladders, gabions, fascines, timbers ready cut and shaped for gun-platforms, a few planks, and some pieces of rope. Two scaling-ladders locked into each other at the top, so as to give and derive mutual support, form, at certain intervals, the columns which separate the aisles from the body of the church, and bear the roof. The framework of the outer wall is made by long upright timbers, which lean against the summits of each set of ladders respectively, and are secured by cords. Across these a few joist-beams are lashed, and the outer wall of gabions, though thicker at the base than above, in a great degree rest against these horizontal supports. To form the wall the gabions are placed end to end, one above the other, until they reach the height of the roof. Nothing can be more agreeable, during the heat of the day, than the sensation produced by the air entering through this gauge-work of twigs; it passes freely, but is so sprinkled, as it were, in its passage—its force is so broken, that, however strong without, it fails to cause any unpleasant disturbance within. The sun’s light is broken with an equally pleasing effect, for the rays which find their way in are so refracted and disturbed, that all glare and dazzle are prevented. The roof is made by the platform timbers laid between the tops of the ladders on each side, and at right angles to these the fascines are laid in regular rows, until a complete covering is formed. The roof is light, admits of course of free ventilation, and gives a perfect protection against the direct rays of the sun. At the end opposite the entrance into this truly military church, a semicircular sweep is given to the gabion wall, and in the recess thus formed several sacks stuffed with straw are arranged, to form a reading-desk and kneeling-cushion for the preacher. Planks are laid on each side from ladder to ladder, resting at a convenient height on the lower rails, and these benches are appropriated for the use of the weak and convalescents from the hospital; the other soldiers stand during the service.

“When the Union-Jack has been thrown over the primitive reading-desk above mentioned, and the clergyman is in his usual robes, and the engineers and sappers are filling the space in their military costume, all seems so appropriate and in such harmony, that should a visitor be among the number of the congregation, he soon ceases to feel the peculiarity of the place, and forgets, while engaged in the service, that he is not in one of the ordinary churches, with its stoned walls and steepled roof, in his own mother-country. Now and then the attention of the listener to the “mission of peace and good-will among men” may be distracted for a moment by the heavy thunder of a gun, or the bursting of a shell; for the Sappers’ church is on one side of the ravine leading to Careening Bay, and since the Russian redoubts and French works have been established on the heights above, such sounds have become frequent on all days, and at all hours of the week. But the sappers themselves know that their yard is out of range, though only just out of it, and habit in this, as in other matters, produces its usual effect. The gun is discharged, the shot whizzes through the air, and the shell explodes; but the sounds, if heard, are not heeded, for the attention is otherwise occupied.”

By the 10th June, on which date there were 94 sappers in the front, the batteries were all in admirable order, another screen overlooking the Woronzoff road was finished, and the lodgment and its communications looked grim with details which promised to be formidable when completed. On that day, fifty men of the line had been thrown into the quarries to assist in converting them to the besiegers’ will; but after a while, so accurate and fierce was the fire upon them from a mortar and a gun on the right of the tower, that the party was necessarily withdrawn. “Whistling Dick,” from the mortar alluded to, was doing its best to thin the workmen; but luckily its terrific presence was unaccompanied by any serious disaster. Still the sappers, twelve in number, were retained at this dangerous spot; and working away amid descending shells bursting in all directions and splinters driving even into obscure angles, they strengthened the parapet by building stones into the revetment, made loopholes, and continued the formation of the banquette. At three o’clock in the afternoon, Captain Browne of the engineers, persevering in his endeavours to work the lodgment, sent other fifty men into it who laboured in the quarries till regularly relieved. More than fifty casualties occurred in and about the quarries during the day; among these was private William Lang who was dangerously wounded by a shell which carried away his arm. A group of his comrades, who were near at the time, threw themselves down to avoid its splinters. Awful moments followed, each expecting, but hoping to escape the death that seemed inevitable. Fortunately the shell buried itself in the earth, then fizzed in paroxysms for a few seconds, when, grinding further into the soil, the fuze providentially was smothered. Another sapper, name unknown, was wounded in the left attack.

Seventy men of the corps were in the trenches during the night of the 10th scattered over the works of the two attacks. The lodgment, still offering occasion for anxious solicitude, progressed with energy and a new trench was formed on a segmental trace in front of the quarries, taking the captured ambuscade as the base of the figure. The spring of the bow issued from the right of the lodgment, then, bending away in an arch, abutted on the left of the quarries. The trench was clear of the salient of the Redan, but intersected the Malakoff abattis at a point where a gap had recently been made by a round shot from the besiegers. All the gabions, 180 in number, which lined the excavation, were staked and filled before the morning. Not a shot or bullet came in the direction during its progress. Twelve sappers were appointed to this new trench, who, receiving the gabions from the line, placed them on the sweep of the curve with a rapidity and sprightliness so marked, it seemed as if the men were chasing each other to the goal. The workmen were chiefly of the 19th regiment, by whom, and a party from the light division, about 180 in all, the gabions were filled.

Next day there were 103 sappers in the lines, and 74 at night. At daybreak on the 12th, there were 81 men in the front. Considerable exertions had been made in mining on the left attack, principally in the round-hill parallel, where, stopped by rock at every step, not a move could be made ahead, till by great bodily exertion, and patient coolness against inevitable personal risks, the obstruction was blown away. Laborious and fatiguing as were these duties, they were executed with no abatement of care; and it may be mentioned that from the first, out of thousands of blasts fired successfully throughout the works, and many more which failed in critical situations, only two accidents by mining had occurred. A more striking proof of the proficiency of the men need scarcely be adduced. The sufferers were private John Stancombe who lost the sight of one of his eyes, and lance-corporal William Eastley who was severely wounded by a stone of about 14 pounds weight striking him in the back. The former was blown up, and receiving the blast full in his face, blood poured from a hundred punctures, and when the wounds were healed, his skin was thickly speckled with blue marks as if elaborately tattooed by some unskilful mariner.

Leaving a party of fourteen rank and file at Yenikale, the remainder of the company with Sir George Brown’s expedition re-embarked on the 11th June under Captain Hassard and landed at Balaklava on the 14th. Lieutenant Anderson was located at Yenikale with six sappers, and Captain Stanton and Lieutenant Drake proceeded with the rest to Cape St. Paul. The works to defend these captured positions were commenced respectively on the 15th and 18th June, the French superintending one portion, the English the other, both assisted by strong parties of Turks, sometimes as many as a thousand a-day at each fort. At Yenikale some old houses were pulled down which furnished timber for the works, and when this source failed, planking and nails were obtained from some stranded vessels in the channel. The lines consisted of a cordon of trenches with a strong lunette in rear and a series of rifle-pits in front. The stockades, platforms, and the folding loopholed gates of the lunette were chiefly executed by the sappers, who, after the 14th July, worked in concert with the French in continuing the covered way on the right to the sea. On the 4th August, Lieutenant Anderson and his sappers reappeared in the trenches before Sebastopol.

At Cape St. Paul the intrenchments, extending more than a thousand yards inland, abutted on bold precipices overhanging the sea. Following the contour of a broken country, the knolls embraced in the lines became so many salients armed with one or more field-pieces. Strong works were thrown up in advance of the main trenches to flank them, and rifle-screens were constructed on eminences to command access to the wells, which, situated about 1200 yards in front of the works, were open to hostile interference. The hard nature of the soil in some places prevented the digging of ditches, and to counteract the defect, escarpments were erected about 12 feet high. A considerable portion of the redoubt at the extreme inland angle of the trenches was built with rough stones, faced by hewn blocks of a softer kind, accumulations of which were found already dressed and fit for use. Around St. George’s Hill huge boulders encumbered the trenches, which in time were borne up by manual strength and built into the parapets. Thunderstorms frequently occurring, the rains beat down portions of the earthen cover, which were renewed, though at great labour, with less yielding expedients. A mamelon, too, was wholly cut away to insure completeness in the defences, and the isolated battery on the promontory of Akbornou, standing up with a cold and truculent aspect, was levelled to the rock out of which it sprang. At that point was thrown up a bastioned trench by the 71st regiment to protect the right of the position. The sappers, eight in all, first under Captain Stanton, then Lieutenant Drake, superintended the construction of the several works, and returned to Sebastopol in the middle of December. Corporal McKimm and lance-corporal R. Crawford Cowan, two excellent sappers both of whom had been named with honour for their gallantry at the siege, were with the party.

At night on the 12th, Lieutenants Elphinstone and Graham traced the first portion of the fifth parallel facing the right flank of the Redan. They had with them second corporal George H. Collins and private Moncur, two smart and reliable sappers, to whom the executive superintendence of the work was intrusted. After completing the trace, 7 other sappers and 120 of the line commenced a boyau from the most advanced trench in front of the quarries. Fifty-six gabions were laid and filled in this approach, and then the sappers run along the new parallel with fifty other gabions, placing ten more at the extremity of the series, with a short obtuse angle backwards, to screen the linesmen while filling the baskets and forming the parapet of the new work. Alarms twice occurred which caused the workmen to retire. Collins, indisposed to yield to a questionable danger, went some distance to the front to ascertain if there existed any reason for it; but seeing nothing to justify the retreat, he encouraged the men to return and they readily resumed work. The relief had been in the trench some time when the second interruption took place. Again Collins restored confidence by mounting the parapet and there remaining till the ill-founded fears of the linesmen had subsided. Both parties, nevertheless, worked very well and obtained excellent cover. The sappers were on duty at this new sap for seventeen hours without relief.

The following detail shows the force of sappers furnished by night and day for front duty during the period comprised in the table. Ever-varying circumstances caused the number to fluctuate, so that with each party it was hardly possible to afford a stronger contingent of overseers than was marched at daybreak and at dusk into the trenches:—

During these few days, as an assault was in contemplation, the line workmen were active and pushing. Rather strong parties of sappers superintended them, who also cut and formed the embrasures, and took the lead in the new trenches where the skill of craftsmen was indispensable. The lodgment was now wholly completed, communications to it were perfected, and a boyau, issuing from the left of the quarries, had been thrown up with almost daring impertinence for about 120 yards towards the Redan. The gabions were lodged by some sappers in so ready and firm a manner it seemed as if they possessed a genius for such enterprises. Far from being reckless, they advanced, though diligently and coolly, by prudential efforts; and thus effected, so to speak, their own deliverance; while the line, less calculating the danger of their work and less of course accustomed to it, were struck down in rather serious numbers. A new battery, No. 16, for three 32-pounders, and one for four mortars, No. 17, also rose up in the vicinity of the lodgment. Rapidly they were completed with magazines, platforms, and traverses, and the guns and mortars, drawn at night to their positions by the track from Egerton’s rifle-pit, were promptly placed on their beds, armed with gunners, and worked with more or less fury as occasion served against the enemy. When all was done the half-moon chevaux-de-frise of spikes was withdrawn from the front and piled up in the lodgment.

On one of these nights ten men of the infantry under a sapper were sent to repair a bridge over which the ammunition was usually conveyed to the batteries in the third parallel. The bridge spanned the fourth boyau a little in rear of No. 13 battery of the left attack. Sergeant Drew set the men to work; but as the shelling was warm on the spot the party asked to be removed. It was of some moment to repair the smashed timbers, and the sergeant urging the men by an appeal to their courage to resume the work, said he would visit them again in ten minutes. He reappeared within the time appointed, but the whole party had decamped. Going in quest of them, he found that two of the men had been severely wounded, and the rest were carrying them on stretchers to the rear.

Looking abroad on the works which now spread over many miles of ground, meshed by cross-trenches in all directions, it was obvious that nothing had been omitted which it was in the nature of foresight, resource, or exertion to have executed. In every battery the revetments had been strengthened or rebuilt; the gabionades improved or restored, and cheeks, merlons, traverses, magazines, and every imaginable desiderata attended to with spirited pertinacity. The usual expedients for field constructions had long since began to fail, but now their deficiency was largely felt. Still never at a loss for schemes, the engineers applied all sorts of agencies, regarding nothing as crude or trivial, to perform in emergencies effectual parts in the great siege. Iron and wooden hurdles, powder-boxes and ammunition-cases, were thus pressed into the service to do the work and stand the wear of better contrivances. Frequently molested by riflemen and shelled from the batteries, the sappers and pioneers held their posts with unflinching constancy, and each succeeding night saw the restoration of the day’s havoc. Even in the glaring sunlight the most essential repairs were executed, while shot and shell were dropping around and Minié bullets were pinging over the parapets and thugging into the slopes. A rifle-screen on the right attack was erected in one night on the very edge of the cliff to sweep the ravine, which harboured in its cavities the Russian sharpshooters. It was difficult of access, but to lessen the danger of reaching it, a species of approach was formed to protect the light troops while driving into the pit. Ten men of the line prepared the screen superintended by a sapper. The 21-gun battery, as of old, received material help to make vigorous and solid its vast proportions and to mend its long inventory of damages. It was the head-quarters for the right-attack, from whence the working parties, guided by the sappers, filed off to their appointed duties. The batteries on Greenhill, the picket-house, and those in the foremost parallels, were also attended to with equal promptitude and maintained in a state remarkably efficient.

None laid the platforms or built the magazines, splinter-proofs, &c., but the sappers. Everything, indeed, which came under the denomination of artificers’ work, was executed by them. The fixing of platforms was only second in importance, as far as hazard was concerned, to the formation of the embrasures. Repeatedly the carpenters were called upon in broad daylight to render them serviceable. Relaying sprung sleepers or planks, and renewing cleets or bolts broken by the violence of the fire or a tearing recoil, were frequently attended to whilst the siege was at its highest; and the only protection which the carpenters received under such circumstances was the scanty cover of a shallow genouillère, with perhaps a sapper or two in the gorge busy mending the cheeks of a shivered embrasure. In former sieges the laying of a platform under fire was held to be an act of great personal daring; but in this wonderful enterprise, it was so much a habit of the sappers to see to this particular detail, that it passed among occurrences as a common matter.

What is an embrasure? So much has been said about it, it needs the question; and the answer may not be misplaced here. Look at one while the battle rages. It is a formal cut in a mound of earth, taking the shape of a wedge, with the broad end to the enemy, the narrow to the platform. The narrow end is called “the neck,” and possesses just width enough to admit a man or the muzzle of a gun. It then extends to the front for more than twenty feet with a widening orifice, ten or twelve feet broad at the greatest expansion, which is designated “the mouth.”

Bold men stand in rear of the opening and equally bold are they who work. With some certainty the range is known and but few shots or shells miss their mark. A ball of weighty metal strikes the embrasure, and makes a crevice to its centre, scattering the sand as in a sirocco. Another comes and gashes a well-formed cheek, blows away an angle or a shoulder, and topples into the space below, broken hide-bags from the crest and the earth that covers them. The concussion of our own guns assists to loosen the work and the hot fire of the artillerymen dries up the gabions rendering them less susceptible of resistance. These, ere long, woven with so much compactness, are broken up and strewn as in a wood-yard, and fascines unband and yield their bundles to choke up the gorge. One slope after another loses form and splay, fissures appear, stones rock and fall, and the structure totters on a few fragments. Still it bravely holds up in its ruggedness against a storm of fire. Another well-directed shell is delivered and its splinters knock everything to pieces. The feeble props at length are torn away, and all above, like an avalanche, slides upon the sole, which heaving with its own weakness gives way, and in part crumbles into the ditch. Necks, cheeks, and throat—all now have disappeared; and of the outline of that stern formation, nothing remains but a distorted mouth, with the broken wattle of gabions and the stakes of fascines sticking confusedly out along its extended jaw; and there, too, is the remnant of a sand-bag, caught upon a bending twig, waving lazily with the wind as if begging a truce.

Who will dare stand among the ruins? Here comes a sapper followed by another from behind a traverse to survey the desolation. Well is it that night approaches to cover the adventure. It is more than dusk already. Into the breach they vault with fluttering hearts, for no panoply guards them; no helmet, no cuirass, protects them. Soon the emotion passes and the calmness of extremity prepares them for the worst. Each has his cap pressed down on his brow, and his greatcoat—pegged or pinned in front, with perhaps a solitary button to connect the breasts—is girdled with a couple of well-worn belchers or a piece of cordage. Removing the debris, they build up the faces with fresh materials handed to them by some constant linesmen. Now a gabion is fixed and others are forced into position in quick succession. Sand-bags are crushed into the baskets till they creak, and others, laid row on row, crown the work. Care is taken to give the necessary slopes to the cheeks to prevent them tumbling down. All the interstices and crests are made solid with rammed earth and bags, and not a nook or chink occurs but something is found to jam into it to make it whole. Upon the merlon toils another sapper strengthening it with stones and earth handed to him by his assistants in the battery. Perspiration drops like rain over his beard, and, driven by his strong energy through every pore, moistens the rags which cover him from the night damp. Some bales of hides being brought, feeling makes up for the want of vision in so dark a night, and the cheeks are at length covered with hairy skins. Prudence has adapted their use as well to aid in preserving the embrasures, as to save them from flaming during the rapidity of our own fire. Now the sole of the opening is being improved and sloped. Up to the front the comrades push. So far are they away you scarce can see them. Deadly missiles fly onward and around and Minié bullets with a wheezing noise spend their force in the parapet. Who’s touched? Neither. One however has had a ball through his cap. Still on they work with strength somewhat abated, but no deterioration of spirit, till a couple of gabions, struck behind by a shell, are forced outwards and knock down the operators. The fall of one is awkward, for his head overhangs the trench and the shelving slope of the sole threatens to shoot him headlong into the ditch. Catching at a stake he breaks his descent and wriggling back into the aperture, crawls to the spot where his exertions were interrupted. Joined by his comrade just rising from beneath a pile of broken sand-bags they recommence the restoration. Fair excuse this for suspending the work but undismayed they persevere. EventuallyEventually their toils end; their work is completed; and after six hours’ exposure, they quit the scene uninjured. It is otherwise in the next embrasure, for one is mown down by a shot and the other badly wounded. Such is the fortune of war.

With all this danger, and though the fire from the Russians for the period comprised in the above table was fierce and destructive, the following men only were killed and wounded:—

For several days each embrasure in the fighting batteries had its sapper who was held responsible for its efficiency. It so happened, in No. 7 battery, on the 17th of June, a gabion had been knocked from the cheek and fell across the mouth of the aperture. In other respects the embrasure was sound enough. The artillery would not fire as long as the obstruction remained, and called upon the sapper—a young one—to remove it. Thinking the operation was needless, as it did not interfere with the line of fire; and if it did, that a single discharge would blow it out, he declined to incur the risk. Corporal Lockwood who was in charge of the sappers in the battery, concurred in the propriety of the refusal, but leaped himself into the embrasure and threw the gabion into the ditch. The full blaze of day was on him, and as he bounded back to the platform, he was followed by a string of rifle balls which whizzed into the opening and harmlessly struck the cheeks.

Twelve days cannonading, sometimes warm, sometimes lessened to an insignificant demonstration, had, it was considered, so weakened the enemy’s works, it was decided to assault the Redan and the Malakoff on a great anniversary day—the 18th of June.June. At one o’clock on the morning of the 17th the fourth bombardment began, just prior to which a brigade of carpenters had traversed the different batteries and examined and repaired all the platforms, while the remainder in both attacks, filled up holes and chasms in the parapets, and left every part in excellent condition for the fight. At that hour there were 72 sappers in the trenches, who were relieved at night by a small party of 35 men divided between the two attacks superintending a force of 700 men. On the 18th before a ray of light had broken the darkness, 44 sappers were in the lines, with 100 men to assist them on the left, and six only on the right. Whatever further repairs required were quickly executed, and the necessary scaling ladders, pickaxes, and shovels, laid out in the first parallel of the Gordon attack for the use of the columns then parading for the assault.

During the night Captain Du Cane of the engineers, in charge of the field electric telegraph, directed sergeant Anderson to sleep in the office at head-quarters, and be ready by two in the morning to accompany him and the staff to the trenches for the purpose of sending any messages from the telegraph cave which Lord Raglan might wish to despatch. He had barely turned in to take the little repose allowed him, when a mounted hussar arrived from Sir George Brown in command of the light division, bearing information to the effect, that the electric wires were cut and no communication could be held with head-quarters. Sergeant Anderson at once tried the instrument in the office and found the line incompetent. It was about ten o’clock. Not a moment was to be lost; but it was a question whether it was possible by the hour named for the attack, to renew the lines. In an important point like this, there was no room for speculation. Much depended upon tact and quickness. The captain felt most anxious about it, and ordered the serjeant to test the line and repair it immediately. Lamed by a fall from a horse the sergeant was unequal to the exertion of running on foot, and so mounting the hussar’s charger, he bounded off and arrived at the light division camp just as the stormers were mustering for the assault. Borrowing a lantern he threaded the line from the station, carefully examined the wires, and at last came upon the breaks which had occasioned the interruption. The wires had been cut accidentally by round shot or shells. With corporal Truscott he finished the lines a few minutes before the storming columns moved to the assault, and enabled Captain Du CaneDu Cane, who was well pleased with the prompt energy of the sergeant, to report to Major-General Jones the re-establishment of the required communication.

No. 13 battery of the left attack, armed with 13-inch mortars, had fired on the Russian works with tremendous results, but its efficiency was, in time, impaired, by the destruction of one of its platforms. It was of great moment to renew it, and corporal Borbidge and six carpenters commenced the work at four o’clock in the evening while the battery was still in action. A naval mortar required a ponderous arrangement of sleepers and planks to sustain it, for, with an ordinary charge of gunpowder, it has been known to make a vertical jump some six inches high and reach the stand again with a crushing jerk sufficient to shake the structure in every part. To meet concussions of such violence the platforms for sea-service mortars were invariably of the strongest kind. That constructed by Borbidge and his sappers—the type of many more—had, for its foundation, three transverse sleepers measuring ten inches deep and eight broad. Above them were laid, longitudinally, six beams eight inches wide and eight in depth, to which was spiked the covering consisting of massive planks nine inches in breadth and four deep. At the sides, ribands or stays of proportionate strength were bolted to the flooring, and when all was completed the platform spread over an area ten feet square. This however gives but a faint idea of the amount of labour employed in producing it. After collecting the timber—principally old joists and rafters from ruined houses—it took those seven men, using their best skill and exertions, thirteen hours to complete it! The darkness increased the difficulties of its construction, and prepared as it was under a fire of some intensity with blazing shells dropping and bursting around them, the service was advanced to the dignity of an example for future imitation. It was ready for action at five o’clock on the morning of the 18th of June. Corporal Borbidge had the reputation of being a brave man. He was the tallest sapper at the siege, approaching in height six feet four inches, and the doubled-up positions into which he was forced by the peculiar exigencies of his work, did not in the least affect a stature which was admitted to be perfect in straightness and equipoise.^[186]

To the French was assigned the attack on the Malakoff; to the British that on the Redan. Four columns of the latter were formed up; the first to enter the left face between the flanking batteries; the second the salient angle of the work; the third the re-entering angle formed by the face and flank; and the fourth, moving towards the Woronzoff ravine, to enter the right flank of the Redan. To each column was added a brigade of eight sappers and four carpenters laden with crowbars, sledge-hammers, grapnels, axes, and powder-bags for removing abattis, palisades, or any other obstacles which might oppose the onward dash of the stormers, and also to blow down gates and barriers.

The right column to scale the re-entering angle was formed up in the trench leading out of the right of the quarries in the following succession under the command of Colonel Yea of the royal fusiliers:—

The other columns were marshalled in similar sequence in the foremost trenches, but it may be well to add the names and duties of the officers allotted to the left column, appointed under the command of Major-General Sir J. Campbell to attack the right flank of the Redan.

Obedient to the signal, about half-past three o’clock in the morning the right column debouched from the quarries, the skirmishers opening out in good order and advancing steadily on the Redan. The spaces between the files exposed the sappers to a heavy fire, but they pressed forward led by Lieutenant Fisher, preserving their narrow rank compactly. Bravely moved the rest of the column headed by Lieutenant Graves, but the weight borne by the ladder parties did not admit of a dashing approach; the more so, as the seamen and rifles had to cross with their burdens, two old Russian trenches before they could lay hold of the skirts of the wool-bagwool-bag party. Lieutenant Fisher, nevertheless, strode on at a confident pace, not too hurried, his sappers at his side, under a shower of grape and musketry; and on gaining the abattis, halted to receive the strength of the ladder party, as well as the stormers and supports. Standing longer inactive than he expected, swept by grape from the Redan, Lieutenant Fisher’s party threw themselves down to await the moment when the column could rush forward, unclogged, to the assault. Interrupted by ditches, the riflemen and sailors bearing the ladders could only scramble forward. At every step they were smitten by unerring volleys and with them fell the ladders. All this time Lieutenant Fisher maintained his post with invincible command. To stand against a storm of fire with a bared breast was not an easy virtue, yet his men wavered not. Looking back with some anxiety to watch through the dim grey light the progress of the seamen and rifles, he could not see a single ladder. Minutes past and no help reached him; his men were falling fast and his straits increasing. Emboldened by the apparent hesitation which had held back the column, the enemy sprang upon their parapets and fired upon the little force which had the temerity to reach the barricade. Crouched as the men were under the boughs of the abattis and doubled up in shell-holes, they were somewhat saved from its fierceness, but every moment augmented the chances of their not returning. Cool and lion-hearted, the young engineer was everywhere among his parties commending their bravery and endurance; and sergeant Landrey, nobly assisting his officer, encouraged by his conspicuous example and his cheers the dislocated files of the forlorn hope. Still the ladders were unseen; the stormers were yet in rear, and, at length, as no means for scaling the ramparts were with the advance and its numbers were reduced to a handful, Lieutenant Fisher, seeing no officer present senior to himself, reluctantly, but wisely, retreated with his men to the trenches.

A beautiful instance of valiant humanity occurred in the retreat. Seeing a wounded officer lying near the abattis with a shattered leg, Lieutenant Fisher, assisted by a sailor, carried him some distance. Already fatigued by his exertions at the storming, he was soon exhausted, and private Jesse Head, pushing out from a piece of broken ground in which he had sheltered himself, took charge of the helpless grenadier and bore him into the trenches. So grateful was the officer for the devotion shown to him, that he offered the gold watch he wore to private Head, who, with the generous feeling of a chivalric soldier, refused the gift. The officer was shot through the leg below the knee. He was a very tall fine-looking man, belonging to a grenadier company of, it is believed, the 33rd or 34th regiment.

Meanwhile, the left column, under the command of Sir John Campbell, moved out of the trenches to attack the right flank of the Redan. The skirmishers went boldly forward followed by Lieutenant Murray of the engineers, leading the sappers and carpenters with destroying tools and powder-bags. All edged well to the left taking a sort of cart-track winding along the broken crest of the Woronzoff ravine. Close upon them were the ladders under Lieutenant Graham, who had in his party two able leaders, corporal Paul and private Perie. The sappers with this column belonged to the left attack and were less acquainted with the characteristics of the ground than those on the right. “Who of the sappers here know anything of the ground?” asked Lieutenant Graham. “I do, sir,” cried Perie, with an impatience that evidenced his desire for selection, “I know every inch of it;” and he was accordingly appointed to head the sailors with the ladders. The hindmost spur of the hill was reached when tremendous peals of musketry and grape from the Redan, flanks, and creek batteries, made the skirmishers falter. Here they halted, lying down for a few minutes to spring onwards when the fire should lessen. Lieutenant Murray early fell severely wounded. Though agonising with pain he declined, after sergeant Coppin and private Mole had bound up his shattered arm, to be borne away by his men, and so alone and unaided he walked in a sinking state to the trench and soon after expired. His place was instantly supplied by Lieutenant Graham. Tall, commanding, and collected, vigourous in purpose and brave in danger, he took the direction of the contingents. It was now that Lieutenant-Colonel Tylden rushed to the front to impart by his presence, spirit and confidence to the skirmishers. Barely had he approved of Lieutenant Graham storming the salient instead of the flank of the Redan than a grape-shot passed through his thighs and took from the crisis an engineer, whose valour and exploits blazon history. The truly generous neglect their own safety in the humane wish to administer relief to those who suffer. Lieutenant Graham first on the spot, raised him from the ground; and sergeant Coppin with private Ewen of the eighth company, both of whom more than once had proved their devotion to their officers, carried the colonel to a sheltered spot under a ledge of rock at the side of the Woronzoff ravine and there laid him down. Faint as he was from the loss of blood he would not retain the sergeant; and so dismissing him to his party, Ewen remained to soothe the colonel by his attentions, and later in the day to assist four or five sappers in bearing him from the nook to the camp.

Seeing no chance of an opportunity to make the flank, the skirmishers rose from the holes into which they had crushed themselves and retreated to the advanced trenches in the quarries. Some time was spent in filling up the blanks in the ladder men, who, as soon as the bearers were paired, were impatient to proceed. Corporal Paul was now strictly enjoined by Major Bent not to permit the ladder men to move a step forward unless orders were given for renewing the assault. It was difficult to fetter the impetuosity of eager men; but corporal Paul, an imperturbable sapper, displayed so much cool discipline himself, that gross indications of rashness were immediately restrained the moment his measured voice was heard among them. Once indeed for the exactness with which he carried out his orders, he was likely to have been bayoneted by a brave but inconsiderate comrade. Paul was not the man to flinch from any attack, or to repel one by a force as irrational as that which threatened him; and so simply lifting his finger, as if that were sufficient to ward off the thrust, the exasperated man, sobered by the corporal’s composure, averted the weapon and both, at the proper moment, went on with the ladders.

In the same order as before, the stormers again advanced—this time to scale the salient of the Redan. When the ladders had passed to the front of the advanced trench, the skirmishers had moved so much to the left, that the sappers and escalading parties were much exposed. Lieutenant Graham now halted the sailors and riflemen to allow the skirmishers to rectify their position, and shelter in degree the sappers, woolsack men and escalading parties; but the firing on them continued so terrific, the skirmishers, valiant as they were, could not effect the movement; and the whole, by order, after standing for ten minutes bared to a ceaseless cannonade, were withdrawn into the advanced trench. Hopeless as it was to push on with so small a front, the struggle nevertheless could not be abandoned save on the gravest grounds; and arrangements were again made by Lord West, who commanded the storming-party, to essay the assault. Yet a third time the skirmishers re-formed with a front increased by a detachment of the 57th regiment led out by one of its captains, who soon fell. The sappers, too, were drawn up with their axes, grapnels, and powder-bags, so also were the woolpack men, and the seamen and riflemen with the ladders. Steadily and firmly they advanced met by a crashing and annihilating fire. Every step onwards was retarded by shocks which made the stormers desperate. A few more bounds were attempted, succeeded by another halt that showed the enterprise was impossible; and swept back by a continuous roll of musketry and shells no troops could withstand, the daring men who thrice threw themselves before the enemy, reeled back into the trenches defeated.

But few of the stormers succeeded in reaching the abattis. Of the sappers, there were at least four or five who gained it, or nearly so. Coppin and private Mole, belonging to the party with destroying tools, made the barricade to the left, while corporal Paul and Perie went directly to the front. All bent themselves behind knots of rock, or dropping into shell-holes or hollows, fired away with all the coolness of riflemen, such ammunition as they could collect from the pouches of the killed and wounded. When it was evident the day was lost, sergeant Coppin, directed by Lieutenant Graham, ran to the front to command the skirmishers to retire. His mien was that of a calm man and a fearless soldier. He first communicated the orders to the officer in command of the rifles, and then to the sergeant of the 57th, as the captain who had led them to the front was killed. Coppin was thus one of the last men to return to the trenches. Paul and Perie were afterwards awarded distinctions, which but a minimum of their comrades attained. Besides a gratuity of ten pounds and a medal for distinguished service, Paul was promoted to the rank of sergeant and received the Legion of Honour; while Perie, an unlettered man but a first-class sapper and leader, was decorated with the military war-medal of France “for valour and discipline.” Coppin, though it was not his good fortune to obtain a badge to show his merit, was, by the voice of his comrades, as brave and ready a sapper as ever toiled in the trenches.

Among the sappers with the right column there were five casualties:—