It was soon after five in the morning when the pickets of the second division, keeping such watch as they were able in the misty light, while the rain fell steadily and thickly, dimly perceived a gray mass moving up the hill from the road at the end of the harbor. Although this point was greatly exposed to attack, nothing had been done to strengthen the position. A few lines of earthworks, a dozen guns in batteries, would have made the place secure from a sudden attack. But not a sod had been turned, and the steep hillside lay bare and open to the advance of an enemy.  
Although taken by surprise, and wholly ignorant of the strength of the force opposed to them, the pickets stood their ground, but before the heavy masses of men clambering up the hill, they could do nothing, and were forced to fall back, contesting every foot.
 
Almost simultaneously, the pickets of the light division were also driven in, and General Codrington, who happened to be making his rounds at the front, at once sent a hurried messenger to the camp with the report that the Russians were attacking in force. The second division was that encamped nearest to the threatened spot. General Pennefather, who, as Sir De Lacy Evans was ill on board ship, was in command, called the men who had just turned out of their tents, and were beginning as best they could to light their fires of soaked wood, to stand to their arms, and hurried forward General Adam's brigade, consisting of the 41st, 47th, and 49th, to the brow of the hill to check the advance of the enemy by the road from the valley, while with his own brigade, consisting of the 30th, 55th, and 95th, he took post on their flank. Already, however, the Russians had got their guns on to the high ground, and these opened a tremendous fire on the British troops.
 
Sir George Cathcart brought up such portions of the 20th, 21st, 46th, 57th, 63d, and 68th regiments as were not employed in the trenches, and occupied the ground to the right of the second division. General Codrington, with part of the 7th, 23d, and 33d, took post to cover the extreme of our right attack. General Buller's brigade was to support the second division on the left, while Jeffrey's brigade, with the 80th regiment, was pushed forward into the brushwood. The third division, under Sir R. England, was held in reserve. The Duke of Cambridge, with the Guards, advanced on the right of the second division to the edge of the plateau overlooking the valley of the Tchernaya, Sir George Cathcart's division being on his right.
 
There was no manoeuvring. Each general led his men forward through the mist and darkness against an enemy whose strength was unknown, and whose position was only indicated by the flash of his guns and the steady roll of his musketry. It was a desperate strife between individual regiments and companies scattered and broken in the thick brushwood, and the dense columns of gray-clad Russians, who advanced from the mist to meet them. Few orders were given or needed. Each regiment was to hold the ground on which it stood, or die there.
 
Sir George Cathcart led his men down a ravine in front of him, but the Russians were already on the hillside above, and poured a terrible fire into the 63d. Turning, he cheered them on, and led them back up the hill; surrounded and enormously outnumbered, the regiments suffered terribly on their way back, Sir George Cathcart and many of his officers and vast numbers of the men being killed. The 88th were surrounded, and would have been cut to pieces, when four companies of the 77th charged the Russians, and broke a way of retreat for their comrades.
 
The Guards were sorely pressed; a heavy Russian column bore down upon them, and bayonet to bayonet, the men strove fiercely with their foes. The ammunition failed, but they still clung to a small, unarmed battery called the Sand-bag battery, in front of their portion, and with volleys of stones tried to check their foes. Fourteen officers and half the men were down, and yet they held the post till another Russian column appeared in their rear. Then they fell back, but, reinforced by a wing of the 20th, they still opposed a resolute front to the Russians.
 
Not less were the second division pressed; storms of shot and bullets swept through them, column after column of grey-clad Russians surged up the hill and flung themselves upon them; but, though suffering terribly, the second division still held their ground. The 41st was well-nigh cut to pieces, the 95th could muster but sixty-four bayonets when the fight was over, and the whole division, when paraded when the day was done, numbered but 800 men.
 
But this could not last. As fast as one assault was repulsed, fresh columns of the enemy came up the hill to the attack, our ammunition was failing, the men exhausted with the struggle, and the day was well-nigh lost when, at nine o'clock, the French streamed over the brow of the hill on our right in great force, and fell upon the flank of the Russians. Even now the battle was not won. The Russians brought up their reserves, and the fight still raged along the line. For another three hours the struggle went on, and then, finding that even the overwhelming numbers and the courage with which their men fought availed not to shake the defence, the Russian generals gave up the attack, and the battle of Inkerman was at an end.
 
On the Russian side some 35,000 men were actually engaged, with reserves of 15,000 more in their rear; while the British, who for three hours withstood them, numbered but 8500 bayonets. Seven thousand five hundred of the French took part in the fight. Forty-four British officers were killed, 102 wounded; 616 men killed, 1878 wounded. The French had fourteen officers killed, and thirty-four wounded; 118 men killed, 1299 wounded. These losses, heavy as they were, were yet small by the side of those of the Russians. Terrible, indeed, was the destruction which the fire of our men inflicted upon the dense masses of the enemy. The Russians admitted that they lost 247 officers killed and wounded, 4076 men killed, 10,162 wounded. In this battle the British had thirty-eight, the French eighteen guns engaged. The Russians had 106 guns in position.
 
Jack Archer and his comrades were still in bed, when the first dropping shots, followed by a heavy roll of musketry, announced that the Russians were upon them. Accustomed to the roar or guns, they slept on, till Tom Hammond rushed into the tent.
 
"Get up, gentlemen, get up. The Russian army has climbed up the hill, and is attacking us like old boots. The bugles are sounding the alarm all over the camps."
 
In an instant the lads were out of bed, and their dressing took them scarce a minute.
 
"I can't see ten yards before me," Jack said, as he rushed out. "By Jove, ain't they going it!"
 
Every minute added to the din, till the musketry grew into one tremendous roar, above which the almost unbroken roll of the cannon could scarce by heard. Along the whole face of the trenches the batteries of the allies joined in the din; for it was expected that the Russians would seize the opportunity to attack them also.
 
In a short time the fusillade of musketry broke out far to the left, and showed that the Russians were there attacking the French lines. The noise was tremendous, and all in camp were oppressed by the sound which told of a mighty conflict raging, but of which they could see absolutely nothing.
 
"This is awful," Jack said. "Here they are pounding away at each other, and we as much out of it as if we were a thousand miles away. Don't I wish Captain Peel would march us all down to help!"
 
But in view of the possible sortie, it would have been dangerous to detach troops from their places on the trenches and batteries, and the sailors had nothing to do but to wait, fuming over their forced inaction while a great battle was raging close at hand. Overhead the Russian balls sang in swift succession, sometimes knocking down a tent, sometimes throwing masses of earth into the air, sometimes bursting with a sharp detonation above them; and all this time the rain fell, and the mist hung like a veil around them. Presently a mounted officer rode into the sailor's camp.
 
"Where am I?" he said. "I have lost my way."
 
"This is the marine camp." Captain Peel said, stepping forward to him as he drew rein. "How is the battle going, sir?"
 
"Very badly, I'm afraid. We are outnumbered by five to one. Our men are fighting like heroes, but they are being fairly borne down by numbers. The Russians have got a tremendous force of artillery on to the hills, which we thought inaccessible to guns. There has been gross carelessness on our part, and we are paying for it now. I am looking for the third division camp; where is it?"
 
"Straight ahead, sir; but I think they have all gone forward. We heard them tramping past in the mist."
 
"I am ordered to send every man forward; every musket is of value. How many men have you here in case you are wanted?"
 
"We have only fifty," Captain Peel said. "The rest are all in the battery, and I dare not move forward without absolute orders, as we may be wanted to reinforce them, if the enemy makes a sortie."
 
The officer rode on, and the sailors stood in groups behind the line of piled muskets, ready for an instant advance, if called upon.
 
Another half-hour passed, and the roll of fire continued unabated.
 
"It is certainly nearer than it was," Captain Peel said to Mr. Hethcote. "No orders have come, but I will go forward myself and see what is doing. Even our help, small as it is, may be useful at some critical point. I will take two of the midshipmen with me, and will send you back news of what is doing."
 
"Mr. Allison and Mr. Archer, you will accompany Captain Peel," Mr. Hethcote said.
 
And the two youngsters, delighted at being chosen, prepared to start at once.
 
"If they send up for reinforcements from the battery, Mr. Hethcote, you will move the men down at once, without waiting for me. Take every man down, even those on duty as cooks. Ther............