The Russians, during the action, made a sortie on the French, and traversed two parallels before they were driven back; as they retired they fired mines inside the Flagstaff Fort, afraid that the French would enter pell-mell after them. The last attempt of the Russians took place at about thirty-five minutes past twelve. At forty minutes past one Dickson's two guns had smashed up the last battery of their artillery which attempted to stand, and they limbered up, leaving five tumbrils and one gun-carriage on the field. [Sidenote: SURVEY OF THE BATTLE-FIELD.] CHAPTER IV. The Battle-field--Review of the Struggle--The Dead and the Dying--Harrowing Scene--Firing on Burying Parties--The French at Inkerman--Number of the Russians--Losses--"Hair-breadth Scapes"--Brutal Conduct of the Russians--How the Victory was won--Use of Revolvers--Want of Ammunition. I went carefully over the position on the 6th, and as I examined it, I was amazed at the noble tenacity of our men. The tents of the Second Division were pitched on the verge of the plateau which we occupied, and from the right flank of the camp the ground rises gently for two or three hundred yards to a ridge covered with scrubby brushwood, so thick that it was sometimes difficult to force a horse through it. The bushes grew in tufts, and were about four feet high. On gaining the ridge you saw below you the valley of the Tchernaya, a green tranquil slip of meadow, with a few white houses dotting it at intervals, some farm enclosures, and tufts of green trees. From the ridge the hill-side descended rapidly in a slope of at least 600 feet. The brushwood was very thick upon it, and at times almost impervious. At the base of this slope the road wound to Inkerman, and thence to Sebastopol. The sluggish stream stole quietly through it towards the head of the harbour, which was shut out from view by the projections of the ridge to the north. At the distance of a quarter of a mile across the valley the sides of the mountains opposite to the ridge of the plateau on which our camp stood rose abruptly in sheer walls of rock, slab after slab, to the height of several hundred feet. A road wound among those massive precipices up to the ruins of Inkerman--a city of the dead and gone and unknown--where houses, and pillared mansions, and temples, were hewn out of the face of the solid rock by a generation whose very name the most daring antiquaries have not guessed at. This road passed along the heights, and dipped into the valley of Inkerman, at the neck of the harbour. The Russians planted guns along it to cover the retreat of their troops, and at night the lights of their fires were seen glimmering through the window and door places from the chambers carved out from the sides of the precipice.