Windham was one of my oldest friends; we were boys together and remained friends till his death, February 2, 1870, at the early age of fifty-nine. He was properly called the Hero of the Redan, for by his gallant bearing on that day he did much to retrieve our good name. Dead against the first attack himself, its numbers, place, etc. etc., he nevertheless led it in the most gallant manner, being first in the work--and after his three messengers had been disabled had the _moral_ courage to go back himself and solicit reinforcements. * * * * * [Sidenote: Sept. 9.] Early this morning visited Sir Colin Campbell; a few Highlanders had during the night crept into the Redan and found it deserted. On Sir Colin’s invitation we rode into the Redan by the salient angle. Horrors met us at every step. Two instances of faithful, but half-starved dogs were sitting on bodies, from which no coaxing could draw them. In a small hut on a table, leaning against the wall, was a Russian officer, looking smart in his uniform; on my speaking to him I found that he was dead. In the higher part noticed excavations and could trace wires for explosions. Sevastopol had been evacuated during the night--magazines blown up--town blazing--ships sank--others on fire. The Russians had put themselves on the safe side of the harbour by blowing up the east end of the floating bridge. Strolling about I found myself close to the ground floor of a hospital. On entering I was between two long rows of Russian soldiers, dead and dying, on broad wooden stretchers. I will not attempt to describe the horrors, but each body was in a position as if trying to escape. At the further end I found a young English officer in uniform who said he had been expecting us some time--he was wandering in his mind. A flag of truce was hoisted about noon. The Russians sent steamers to remove their dead and dying. One, the _Vladimir_, was commanded, I think, by Captain Etholin, who had done a gallant thing earlier in the war by capturing and taking into the harbour an English transport that had grounded in sight of our combined fleets. While the truce flag was up I moved three guns down to the edge of the harbour. When the Russian steamers had landed their dead and dying and returned to their moorings, in front of where we stood in a sort of hostile parade, one of the three Naval Brigade guns went off and smashed _Vladimir’s_ quarter boat. That same night we were building a screen, from behind which we could destroy any attempt at landing to interfere with our newly appointed Governor, Charles Windham. At midnight, superintending the work, I observed the _Vladimir_ make a move in our direction. Not a sound from on board. When she got near mid-channel, she stopped and gradually turned with her head up the harbour. When broadside on I gave the order to lie down behind our newly made screen, whereupon _Vladimir_ quietly settled