Between five and six o'clock Lord Raglan and his staff took up a position on the edge of the hill below the Limekiln, where it commanded our four-gun battery, and looked straight into the teeth of the Redan. About half-past six the head of the French column came into view, as it climbed to the Mamelon. A rocket was thrown up, and instantly our men made a rush at the Quarries. After one slight check they drove out the Russians, and, turning round the gabions, commenced making themselves snug; but the interest was so entirely concentrated upon the more exciting scene, full in view upon the right, that they had to wait a good while before attention Was directed to their conflict.
The French went up the steep to the Mamelon in loose order, and in most beautiful style. Every straining eye was upon their movements, which the declining daylight did not throw out into bold relief. Still their figures, like light shadows flitting across the dun barrier of earthworks, were seen to mount up unfailingly — running, climbing, scrambling up the slopes on to the body of the work, amid a plunging fire from the guns, which did them as yet little damage. As an officer, who saw Bosquet wave them on, said, "They went in like a clever pack of hounds." In a moment some of these dim wraiths shone out clear against the sky. The Zouaves were upon the parapet, the next moment a flag was hoisted up as a rallyingpoint and defiance, and was seen to sway hither and thither, now up, now down, as the tide of battle raged. It was seven minutes and a half from the commencement. Then there came a rush of the French through the angle, where they had entered, and momentary confusion outside. Groups were collected on the hither side in shelter. But hardly had the need of support become manifest, and a gun or two again flashed from the embrasure, than there was another run in, another sharp fight, and this time the Russians went out spiking their guns. Twice the Russians made head against the current, for they had a large mass of troops in reserve, covered by the guns of the Round Tower; twice they were forced back by the onsweeping flood of French. For ten minutes or so the quick flash and roll of small arms declared how the uncertain fight waxed and waned inside the enclosure. Then the back door, if one may use an humble metaphor, was burst open. The noise of the conflict went away down the descent on the side towards the town, and the arena grew larger. It was apparent by the space over which the battle spread, that the Russians had been reinforced. When the higher ground again became the seat of action, — when there came the second rush of the French back upon their supports, for the former one was a mere reflux or eddy of the stream, — when rocket after rocket went up ominously from the French General's position, and seemed to emphasize by their repetition some very plain command, we began to get nervous. It was growing darker and darker, too, so that with our glasses we could with difficulty distinguish the actual state of affairs. There was even a dispute for some time as to whether our allies were going in or out of the work, and the staff themselves were by no means clear as to what was going on. At last, through the twilight, we discerned that the French were pouring in. After the interval of doubt, our ears could gather that the swell and babble of the fight was once more rolling down the inner face of the hill, and that the Russians were conclusively beaten. " They are well into it this time," says one to another, handing over the glass. The musket flashes were no more to be seen within it. There was no more lightning of the heavy guns from the embrasures. A shapeless hump upon a hull, the Mamelon was an extinct volcano, until such time as it should please our allies to call it again into action. Then, at last, the more hidden struggle of our own men in the hollow on the left came uppermost. " How are our fellows getting on? " says one. " Oh! take my word for it, they're all