Before I proceed to describe the assault, I would point out that Sebastopol had for the first time in military history, since powder had been invented, defied the united fire of some 900 guns of the largest calibre, exclusive of mortars, which had been directed on the devoted city from early morning of the 5th September. When the final bombardment opened, the very earth trembled beneath the terrible crash. It was grand, but awful. But after it the enemy's batteries looked as strong as ever. We might apparently have gone on bombarding until now. The Redan and Malakoff appeared to be much stronger than when we first looked at them, although no fewer than 1,600,000 shot and shell had been hurled at them. I say again, the Russian nation might well be proud of the manner their army had defended that fortress. At last cold steel had to do what artillery had been baffled at. If my readers are at all acquainted with military history, they will know that large breaches have invariably been made by artillery fire in the enemy's fortifications before ever the "dogs of war" were let loose at them. But no breach was made in the fortifications of Sebastopol. After remaining for a short time under arms, we marched off about 9·30 a.m. There was no pomp or martial music, no boasting; but all in that mighty throng moved with solemn tread to the places that had been assigned them; all, both old and young, seemed to be determined "to conquer or die." The older hands were very quiet, but they had that set look of determination about them that speaks volumes. The bombardment was still raging on that terrible 8th September; every gun and mortar that our people and our noble Allies, the French, could bring to bear upon the enemy's works, was raining death and destruction upon them. The stormers had all got into their places--they consisted of about 1,000 men of the old Light and 2nd Division; the supports were formed up as closely as possible to them, and all appeared in readiness. History may well say the storming of a fortress is an awful task. There we stood, not a word being spoken; every one seemed to be full of thought; many a courageous heart, that was destined to be still in death in one short hour, was now beating high.