rush up the bank, and, as they crowned it, met their enemies with a furious fire. The dense battalions, undeployed, were smitten, and as the Light Division advanced they rapidly fell back to the left, for the renewed fire of their batteries, leaving, however, many dead and wounded men. After a momentary delay, these gallant regiments, led by Sir George Brown and Brigadier Codrington, advanced up the slope which was swept by the guns of the battery; grape, round, and shell tore through their ranks, and the infantry on the flanks, advancing at an angle, poured in a steady fire from point-blank distance. It must be confessed that the advance was disorderly--instead of the men being two deep and showing an extended front of fire, they were five, six, and seven deep, in ragged columns, with scarcely any front, and not half so extended as they should have been. Thus their fire was not as powerful or their advance as imposing as it ought to have been. The General and Brigadier made some attempts to restore order, but they were unsuccessful. The men had not only got into confusion in the river from stopping to drink, as I have related, but had disordered their ranks by attacks on the grapes in the vineyards on their way. Behind the work, on rising ground, a Russian regiment kept up a most destructive file fire on our advance; the field-pieces on the flank also played incessantly upon them. Every foot they advanced was marked by lines of slain or wounded men. The 7th Fusiliers, smitten by a storm of grape, reeling to and fro like some brave ship battling with a tempest, whose sails are gone, whose masts are toppling, and whose bulwarks are broken to pieces, but which still holds on its desperate way, impelled by unquenchable fire, within a few seconds lost a third of its men. Led by "Old Yea," it still went on--a colour lost for the time, their officers down, their files falling fast--they closed up, and still with eye which never left the foe, pressed on to meet him. The 23rd Regiment was, however, exposed more, if that were possible, to that lethal hail. In less than two minutes from the time they crowned the bank till they neared the battery the storm had smitten down twelve of their officers, of whom eight never rose again. Diminished by one-half, the gallant companies sought, with unabated heart, to reach their terrible enemies. The 19th marched right up towards the mouths of the roaring cannon which opened incessantly and swept down their ranks; the 33rd, which had moved up with the greatest audacity over broken ground towards the flank of the epaulement, where it was exposed to a tremendous fire and heavy losses from guns and musketry from the hill above, was for the moment checked by the pitiless pelting of this iron rain. Their general at this terrible crisis seemed to have but one idea--right or wrong, it was to lead them slap at the battery, into the very teeth of its hot and fiery jaws. As he rode in