As the 95th charged up the hill, one of the most affecting episodes of that fierce encounter--so full of incidents, of unsurpassed courage, and pathetic scenes--occurred. Early in the charge, Captain Eddington, a young officer, fell wounded, a ball passing through his chest. The regiment, unable to stand against the scathing fire to which they were exposed, fell back to re-form, and left the wounded officer on the ground. In full view of the regiment, a Russian rifleman advanced, and kneeling by his side, appeared to be about to offer his canteen to his lips. A thrill passed through the ranks, at the spectacle of a soldier exposing his own life thus for the purpose of alleviating the sufferings of a dying enemy. No gun would have been pointed against that man, no bayonet levelled at his life. It seemed one of those incidents that show the better feelings of humanity are not quite extinguished by the breath of war. But what was their horror when the rifleman, laying aside his canteen, levelled his piece and deliberately blew out the brains of the dying man! Among those who witnessed this cowardly assassination was a younger brother of the captain who had recently exchanged into the regiment, that he might share death and danger with his brother, whom he tenderly loved. Maddened by the spectacle of his brother’s murder, the young lieutenant sprang forward, shouting with frantic energy to the men to follow and avenge the deed. One loud yell of execration burst from the lips of the soldiers, and bounding onwards, they rushed after their leader. Waving his sword above his head, the gallant young man was a conspicuous mark, and in another moment fell headlong, pierced by a dozen bullets. Thus the two brothers, so fondly attached in life, mingled their blood on that fatal hillside--among thousands of the slain perhaps the most generally and deeply mourned. At length Sir De Lacy Evans, who had received a severe contusion on his shoulder, rallied his men, and led them victors to the summit of the hill, silencing one of the batteries which had done such execution upon the gallant fellows of the Light Division. Sir Richard England’s division had fought--to use the language of one who shared in that charge--“like devils,” and surmounting every impediment, though not without dreadful loss, joined their gallant comrades. Everywhere the Russians were driven back by the irresistible bayonets of the British, and the conquerors literally marched through paths of blood to victory.