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. Eventually 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:—
June 14th—Private John McRoberts—wounded dangerously, died next day.
” ” John Murphy—wounded severely in the head, by rifle
bullet, while in the quarries.
” 15th—Lance-corporal George Peter—wounded in the head and ear.
” 15th—Lance-corporal Stephen Daft—wounded severely in the left arm
by grape-shot.
” 16th—Private William Smale, wounded dangerously, died next day. He
was struck when working in the advanced trench approaching the
Redan. Tall, stalwart, and strong, few sappers were more
active in the trench than he; few more skilful; and he bore
the scar of a severe wound sustained by him at the siege on
the 14th April.[185]
” 17th—Corporal William James—killed by a shell which struck him in
the chest.
” 17th—Private Thomas Patterson—wounded severely in the right
shoulder by gun-shot.
” 17th—Private James Clyde—wounded dangerously, died next day.
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. 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 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:—
100 rifles, 1st battalion—skirmishers } Under Lieut. Fisher,
8 sappers and miners } R.E., with sergeant
4 carpenters, carrying cutting tools, } John Landrey of the
powder-bags, &c. } royal sappers and
50 rifles, each with a wool-bag } miners.
}
60 rifles, carrying ladders } Under Lieut. Graves,
60 seamen ditto } R.E.
400 storming party Under Capt. Jesse, R.E.
800 supports
2 brigades of sappers for the lodgment } Under Lieut. Somerville,
} R.E.
400 working party, carrying 200 pickaxes, 200 shovels, and as many
gabions.
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.
Lieutenant Murray, to lead skirmishers and sappers with sergeant John
Coppin.
Lieutenant Graham, to lead the parties with wool-bags and ladders.
Major Bent, to lead the storming party and supports.
Lieutenant C. G. Gordon, to control the working party with two
brigades of sappers.
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-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:—
Private Thomas McNeil } killed.
” Joseph Barnes }
Lance-corporal Joseph Maycock, wounded in the head { Both were struck by
Private Samuel Spear, wounded in the left knee { rifle-balls, and died
{ of their wounds.
” Edward Pearson, wounded in the hand.
Private McNeil, when found next day, was under the abattis riddled with
balls. He was a good and an ardent soldier, and his comrades spoke in
high terms of his bravery on all occasions. As already shown, he had his
jaw broken in a strange manner on the 3rd April.
Captain Jesse, who hastened to the front to ascertain the complexion of
affairs, was shot through the head while speaking to Lieutenant Fisher.
Lieutenant Graves was also killed.
Three sappers with the left column were put hors-de-combat:
Private Robert Eadie—killed by a round shot which went through his
chest and knocked him to pieces. He was with the Staff at the
time bearing signal flags.
” John Perie—wounded in right side, by rifle bullet.
” William Preece—wounded slightly.
Two casualties occurred in the column under General Barnard, placed in
position on the right of the Woronzoff road, viz:—
Private William Rollings—killed by the blow of a shot which rolled
over a precipice on his neck and broke his spine. He was
knocked a few yards down the hill, “where,” an observer has
written, “he sat as if asleep with his face turned up, but he
was stone dead.”