1855--ASSAULT OF THE REDAN
Long months of danger blunt sensibility--Preparations--Description
of the work to be attacked--The Naval ladder party is destroyed.
Throughout the week of the 10th-17th of June, in common with many of
my comrades in the Naval Brigade, I suffered from low fever and severe
intestinal complaints, and although I managed to evade our doctor, I
was much reduced in strength, nor did I shake off the fever until I had
been some time on board ship, where I was sent after being severely
wounded. I was at battery again at 2.30 a.m. on the 13th June, and we
re-opened fire on the Malakoff as soon as we could see. The Russians
in it, however, had now not only lost the support of their guns in
the Mamelon, but were being battered by the French from it, and they
could only hold the Malakoff under heavy loss. Unskilled Infantry were
employed to replace the trained Seamen Gunners, most of whom had been
killed. The Russian batteries were crippled also by having to keep
some gunners in the sea-front forts, for our steamers stood in, and
bombarded them. Our gallant foe, however, managed to fire some 19,000
projectiles in twenty-four hours of the 13th-14th.
On the 16th I was lying in blankets, feeling very ill, when my friends
of H.M.S. _Leander_ came to see me. I was groaning with pain in my
bones, but they insisted that a ride and a bathe would be more likely
to do me good than medicine, and somewhat unwillingly I accompanied
them to the cliffs under the Monastery of St. George, where the deep
water enabled us to take headers from a rock. Strange as it may appear,
I did feel rather better afterwards.
During the forenoon of the 17th, General Pélissier arranged with Lord
Raglan to re-open fire on the 18th, and to assault two hours later.
Late in the evening, Pélissier sent to say he had changed his mind,
and wished to assault at dawn. Lord Raglan did not get the message
until very late in the evening, for he was riding round the camps,
and thought it was better to assent rather than to create ill-feeling
by refusing, and so our troops parading at midnight got into their
assigned positions before dawn on the 18th.
On the 17th I was asleep in battery, suffering from fever, and towards
the middle of the day awaking, I missed Captain Peel, and found he had
gone back to camp; there I again missed him, and so returned to the
battery. I was cantering my pony up the “Covered way,” and had got
within 50 yards of the Lancaster gun, when the pony swerved to the
right out of the trench, and stood still, trembling. There were many
shells bursting near the battery, but none very near to the pony, which
was generally steady under fire, so I applied both spurs; but planting
his fore feet on to the ground, he refused to move, and just as I was
shortening my reins to urge him on, I heard the noise of something
falling through the air, and in less time than it takes to describe
a large piece of mortar-shell fell in the trench close to the pony’s
forehand. He evidently had heard it when he swerved.
When I saw my Chief in camp that evening, I found with him one of our
senior officers, and from what I heard when entering his tent, gathered
that he was arranging for an assault. He turned to me and said, “Oh,
Wood, you are not well to-day.” I replied, “Not well, sir, but not
very ill.” “You had better go to bed; I shall not want you to-morrow
morning.” “I suppose, sir, that we are going to assault?” “Yes, and
as you are not well enough to go up with us, you will please stop in
camp.” “Are you going to take your other Aide-de-Camp, sir?” “Yes; I
promised him a long time ago.”
I left the tent no doubt showing the disappointment I felt, so Captain
Peel called me back and said, “Well, well, you may go on with me as far
as the battery, but no farther.” To which I immediately replied, “Is
the other Aide-de-Camp to go on with you?” And he said, “Yes, I intend
to take him to the Redan.”
That evening in our camp I had to submit to a good deal of chaff, for
it was known immediately that Captain Peel did not intend to take me
out with him. On entering one of the Messes of which I was an honorary
member, the conversation turned on the impending Assault, and one of
the officers laughed at me, but in a friendly way, for having been
forbidden to go beyond the battery. I said, “Barring accidents, I’ll
bet you I go as far as my Chief.” Another officer observed, “I’ll
lay five sovereigns to one, young Wood is killed to-morrow.” Dalyell
replied, “Done; but bet’s off if I am killed.”
My friend was more irritated by the remark than I was; but the man
had however, no intention of being unkind, for nine months’ constant
warfare with the daily losses in the trenches had no doubt blunted our
senses. The question of Life and Death was discussed at meals with
the utmost freedom, and there were indeed some grounds for supposing
that the immunity I had hitherto enjoyed could not continue. Fifty
Naval officers landed on the 2nd October, and there were only two of
us present who had been on duty throughout the winter. Some of our
comrades had been killed, more wounded, and the remainder invalided
home, or sent to England for various reasons, the more common being
that of their promotion.
At ten o’clock that night, having instructed a Bluejacket standing
sentry near my tent to rouse me when the Ladder parties paraded, I fell
asleep. The sentry, however, did not awake me, having been cautioned
personally by Captain Peel that I was not to be aroused. The men
“falling in” awoke me at midnight however, and my brother Aide-de-Camp
coming to see if I was awake, we agreed that if, as was probable, our
Chief was killed in the assault, one of us should stand by him, or
bring in his body.
I had been taking heavy and repeated doses of laudanum for three days,
and when Daniel left me, feeling thoroughly worn out, I turned over
and slept again, until Michael Hardy came into the tent and shook me.
I told him to go away, as I was too ill to move, to which he replied,
“Shure, you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss this morning’s
fun;” and against my will he proceeded to dress me. It did not take
long, for my attire consisted of cap, jacket, trousers, and low shoes.
Hardy having propped me up against the tent-pole, brought my pony, on
which he put me, being obliged however, to hold me in the saddle, for
I was too weak to grip with my legs. We hurried after the men for two
miles down to the trenches as fast as darkness permitted, and soon
after 1 a.m. reached the 21-gun battery, where I tied the pony up to a
Lancaster gun.
When I reported myself to Captain Peel, he was seeing the men told off
into parties, six men to each ladder, and a Petty officer to every
two ladders. I asked if he had thought to bring down a Union Jack,
that we might have it up in the Redan before the Regimental Colours,
which, as I found later, were not taken out. He regretted that he had
not thought of it, but agreed that it was then too late to obtain the
flag. Somewhat later he sent me with a message to the other end of
the battery, and having delivered it I was obliged to sit down for a
quarter of an hour to rest, for my legs appeared to be incapable of
carrying my body.
The battery was a scene of apparently inextricable confusion. The
night was still dark; excited Commanding officers were looking for the
Engineers who were to guide the assaulting columns, and the number of
men passing into the battery, meeting and crossing each other, together
with the attempts to enforce silence, which were not altogether
successful, made me fear the parties would never get into their
assigned positions before daylight.
When, after resting, I returned to the right of the battery where I had
left Peel, the Ladder parties had moved off to pick up their loads,
placed by the Engineers in a hollow to the north of the 3rd parallel.
I went a short distance towards the place, and then realising that the
parties must come back again towards the Quarries, waited; presently
coming on my Chief, who was having the sections renumbered, to ensure
every man being in his proper place on either side of the ladders.
When this was done, we lay down under the breastwork, about three
feet high, waiting for the signal, which was to be a flag hoisted in
the 8-gun battery. While we were lying there, Captain Peel sent me on
five different errands, none being of any importance.[34] On the last
occasion, just at the false dawn, disregarding many bullets from the
Redan, I walked straight across the open towards the Rear, instead of
going round by the zigzags. Captain Peel then called me back, giving up
the attempt to get rid of me.
The Russians foresaw that the impending Assault must be delivered soon,
and at two o’clock that morning their bugles sounded the “Assembly,”
the troops getting into position about the time the Allies were
moving into the trenches. General Mayran, who fell in leading his
Division with great courage, mistaking the blazing fuse of an ordinary
mortar-shell for the signal rocket, launched the Attack before dawn
broke.
Pélissier had intended that the advance of all three of the
assaulting columns should be simultaneous, but owing to some mistake
in Orders, the Divisions were late in getting into the positions of
“concentration,” and eventually the French, after suffering great
losses for about forty minutes, retired. On the extreme left of the
British Attack, General Eyre pushed into some houses at the foot of
the enemy’s main line of works, and held them till sunset, but lost in
casualties 560, including 93 officers, out of a total strength of 2000.
The Redan, as its name technically implies, was formed of two faces,
each of which was 70 yards in length, meeting in a salient, the lines
of parapet being continued to works on either flank. It stood on a
hill 30 feet lower than the 21-gun battery, but as the ground fell
between them, held a commanding position--indeed, looking down into
the Quarries, some half-way between it and our 21-gun battery. The
parapet at the salient itself was 17 feet high, and on the left face,
where I approached it, stood 15 feet above the surface of the ground.
The ditch was 11 feet deep, and varied in width from 20 at the salient
to 15 feet at the faces. As the work was open in the rear, we could
not have held it if we had got in, as long as the enemy was still
in the Bastion du Mat and Malakoff. The glacis of the Redan was the
natural surface of the ground, which met in a ridge on the line of
the capital:[35] part of this ridge was seen in some degree from the
adjoining flanks, though they were on a lower level than the salient,
and the ridge itself was exposed to fire from both flanks. The slope
up which the Stormers passed was covered by long rank grass, seamed by
disused gravel-pits and holes made by explosions of mortar-shells, by
innumerable rifle trenches, and craters formed by small portable mines.
Each column was composed as follows:--10 Sappers, 100 Skirmishers, 120
men carrying ladders, 60 being Bluejackets, and 50 men carrying bags of
hay or wool. Storming party:--400 bayonets; Reserve 800; working party
400.
The arrangements for the Assault contemplated that 800 men, covered by
the fire of about 200 skirmishers, were to advance a distance of 400
to 500 yards over open ground, accompanied by men carrying ladders 18
feet in length. The Orders issued after dark detailed the 34th Regiment
as Storming party, and detachments were ordered to form the Supports,
which were lying down before daylight immediately outside the 8-gun
battery, about 300 yards in the rear of the Ladder party. All had
orders to move out when the flag was hoisted in the 8-gun battery,
where Lord Raglan stood.
In my _Crimea 1854-’94_, I gave a full account of the operations on
the 18th June, showing the arrangements for the Assault were faulty;
here I limit myself to stating what happened to the column which
I accompanied. The sad story of the failure, although not perhaps
interesting to civilian readers, can be studied with advantage by
soldiers who may have to conduct a similar operation.
When the French went out from their trenches, 7 officers, 60 Petty
officers, and Bluejackets, of the Right Naval Brigade Ladder party,
were all crouching close together, as much under cover as possible,
behind a bank two feet high. I was lying next to Mr. Parsons, a Mate,
when suddenly he knocked against me violently, and as I thought in
rough play. I was asking him to leave off skylarking, when I noticed
he was insensible; he had been thrown over by a round-shot, which had
killed another man and covered me with dust.
Next to Captain Peel’s detachment of 60 men was a party of soldiers
of similar strength, and 50 men carrying wool bags. These were either
volunteers or picked men of the Rifle Brigade, and in the words of
their gallant leader, Captain (afterwards Sir E. W.) Blackett, “among
the best in the battalion.” While we were waiting for the signal, a
mortar-shell fell amidst the storming party, and blew a soldier and
his accoutrements into the air. When taking my eyes off the body as
it fell, I saw the signal flag as it was being run up, before it was
“Broken,”[36] and shouting “Flag’s up,” jumped on the little bank which
had sheltered us, thus inducing a shower of grape and musketry, which
knocked down several men.
The Russians now manned their parapets, and thence poured on us a
succession of steadily aimed volleys. Captain Wolseley,[37] who was
standing near Lord Raglan,[38] said when he saw the masses of Russians
facing our little body of men, “There is no hope for them.”
It is difficult to describe adequately the intensity of the fire.
Various kinds of projectiles cut up the ground all around us, but not
continuously in their fullest force, for while there was no cessation
of the shower of missiles, which pattered on the ground like tropical
rain when the monsoon breaks, at times there were death-dealing gusts
of increased density, which swept down the hill, felling our men as a
reaping-machine levels standing crops.
Captain Peel, standing on the parapet waving his sword in the dim
light, cheered on our men, shouting, “Come on, sailors; don’t let the
soldiers beat you.” At this appeal the whole of the ladder party, some
of whom had taken cover at the first outburst of the Russian fire, ran
forward at a steady double, simultaneously with the skirmishers and
wool-bag carriers. The skirmishers had started 50 yards in front of
us, and went straight up to the abatis, where I was speaking to one of
the leaders when he was mortally wounded. Although Daniel and I had
previously determined to remain with Captain Peel, from the moment we
started I lost sight of both my friends.
When I was riding down to the battery, I felt so weak as to be
incapable of fighting hand to hand even a boy of my own size, for
I had been living on tinned milk and rice for over a week, and I
instinctively realised the value of Michael Hardy, who was holding
me on my pony, as a fighting man. Thinking I would secure at all
events the support of one strong arm, I said, “Hardy, when we go out I
shall stick to the Captain, and you must stick to me.” Hardy replied,
somewhat evasively, “Yes, I will stick to him if he goes well to the
front;” and this indomitable Irishman carried out his resolve, and
permitted no one to surpass him in the Assault.
Now invigorated by excitement, I ran forward in front of the ladder
parties. Before we had gone 100 yards, several sailors were struck
down, and I was hit by a bullet while cheering on the Bluejackets and
waving my sword, which was knocked five yards away from me. My arm was
paralysed by the jar, and I thought it was off, as I instinctively
dropped on one knee. On looking down, I saw it was only a flesh wound
of the hand, and jumped up hastily, fearing that anyone passing might
think I was skulking. Picking up my sword, I found it was twisted
like a corkscrew, so threw it down, and with it the scabbard, which
had got between my legs. I had no pistol, and thus was without any
weapon, but that did not occur to my mind as I ran on to overtake the
leading ladder. Before I had rejoined it, my comrades had suffered
considerably; the senior Lieutenant had been slightly wounded, and
Dalyell had lost his left arm, shattered by grape-shot.
Captain Peel was hit, when half-way up the glacis, by a bullet which
passed through his left arm. He became faint, and was accompanied back
by Mr. Daniel, who was the only unwounded officer out of the seven
who went out with the Right ladder party. He escaped injury, but his
pistol-case was shot through in two places, and his clothes were cut
by several bullets. Thus, within about 250 yards, or about half the
distance to be passed over, I was the only Naval officer remaining
effective. It was possible that I unconsciously brought up my left
shoulder to avoid the fire from the Redan; but anyhow, having no weight
to carry, I again outstripped the leading ladder men, and then retraced
my steps for 100 yards, although unwillingly, for I was intensely
anxious to reach the Redan, although with no clear idea what to do
when I got there.
We started with ten ladders, but there were only four being carried
forward when I rejoined my party; and I could see none of those
entrusted to the soldiers,[39] although there were some few men still
struggling forward with wool bags.
If any of my younger comrades in either Service have to undertake a
similar task, I recommend them to put an officer with every ladder.
With the four ladders carried by sailors the Petty officers had
replaced as carriers, men who had been killed. We instinctively
inclined to our right hand to avoid the storm of missiles from two guns
on the (proper) left face of the Redan, but after advancing another 60
yards came under fire of guns placed in the curtain connecting the left
of the Redan with the middle ravine near the dockyard, and these caused
us to bring up our right shoulders.
In the Siege-work plans made by our Royal Engineers the abatis is shown
as standing 100 yards from the counter scarp, or outside edge of the
ditch. Doubtless it was so after the 8th September, but on the 18th
June it was certainly 20 yards nearer, and in places--for it did not
run in a straight line--even closer. When I reached it, 50 yards on the
Malakoff side of the Salient, I had with me only two ladders; these
were carried by four and three men respectively, and I was in front
of the leading ladder. Its carriers were reduced to three, and then
the right-hand rear man falling, I took his place. The second ladder
now fell to the ground, the men being killed or wounded by a blast of
case-shot, and when we were 25 yards from the abatis my ladder carriers
were reduced to two. The man in front was only a few years older than
myself, an Ordinary seaman, but he had shown no other feeling than the
desire to be first up. I had not carried it far when the man alongside
of me was killed, and then the Ordinary seaman in front, feeling no
doubt he was bearing an undue share of the weight, not knowing I was
under the ladder, turning his head as far as he could, addressed me as
his messmate. “Come along, Bill; let’s get our beggar up first.” Before
he recognised me, while his face was still turned backwards, he was
killed, and with him tumbled the ladder.
[Illustration: PLAN OF THE SIEGE OF SEBASTOPOL BY THE ALLIED ARMIES, AS
IN JULY 1855]