The bayonet was used with terrible effect by all regiments. The enemy, driven on by their brave officers, had to and did literally climb over the heaps of their slain countrymen and ours, to renew this bloodthirsty contest, but they were met by British cold steel, and were hurled or pitchforked from the field. We might appropriately say of a number of the brave men who fell on that field in the hour of victory--
That nothing in their life Became them like the leaving it.
We had proved, in a hundred fights, that no enemy could resist our men. But at Inkermann, victory hung in the balance, and our weak Battalions had to resist the enemy's heavy columns bayonet to bayonet. It was Greek meeting Greek, for a number of most determined encounters were maintained against very heavy odds; and as often as the Russian Infantry charged us, our people met them with that never-failing weapon. The 41st and 49th regiments held the Sandbag Battery, and were fairly mobbed out of it by the overwhelming numbers of the enemy, who were exulting in their victory with yells of triumph, when up came the Guards, and in they went with a cheer and a rush that told heavily upon the foe. The Russians, except the dead and dying, were literally lifted out of the battery and its vicinity, by these gallant regiments. Our army may well be proud of its present Commander-in-Chief, for it was His Royal Highness himself who led these unconquerable men. Fresh draughts of "Rackie" had to be issued to the legions of Russia, in order to make them face us again. All was done that could be devised by the enemy, in order to fasten victory to their standards. Holy Russia was represented on the field by the two Imperial Grand Dukes, sons of their sacred chief, and the soldiers were taught that they must, as true Russians, die for their holy Czar; the glory of conquering in the presence of his children, even at the expense of life, would open the gates of heaven to them. (?) They were repeatedly urged on to the attack, and as often driven back. The 41st fought like tigers, to gain time for their comrades to come up. The grey-coated battalions of the enemy were now on the right, on the left, and in front of us, but there was not a desponding voice in our ranks. The Duke of Cambridge was requested to retire a little out of the immediate reach of the murderous musketry fire. But--"No; I will, when these follows are shifted," was the reply. It was well that the French came up when they did. Our men were gradually being crushed in some parts of the field, but showing the enemy a most determined front. It was at this juncture that His Royal Highness set so animating an example; and the French coming up to our assistance, again the hosts of Russia had to retire. About this time a cry was raised that the ammunition was running short. Sir G. Brown, exclaimed--"Then there is nothing for it but the bayonet: _at them, my lads_." And at them we went; and they had to go back, although their Princes boasted that they would put us all into the sea. It was a great pity we had not the 42nd, 79th, and 93rd Highlanders with us, for we knew well they would have left their marks upon the enemy, under the guidance of their old Commander, Sir Colin Campbell, but they had to watch Balaclava. We lost a great number of officers, and at the close of the day the 4th division was commanded by a captain. But on that memorable field if there was one corner hotter than another, the Guards had it. At one time they were completely surrounded by the assailing multitudes, and the dense fog prevented them from seeing anything but the foes all round. Shoulder to shoulder, with a ringing cheer, they cut their way out; shouting, "Keep to the colours." It was a bloody contest; but this little band--now reduced to about 700 unwounded men, showed the enemy an undaunted front. The 20th was sent to help them. They staggered under the murderous fire that met them. This battery had now become more like a slaughter-house than anything else. The Guards went at them again, and routed the Russians out of it. At the 5-gun battery the fighting was desperate, but the enemy never got into it to live. Inkermann may well be called the soldiers' fight, for at times the fog was so thick that we could not see friend from foe. Our men, however, managed to find the Russians, and then "shift" them.