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.