Neue Oder-Zeitung. No. 317, 11 July 1855. Mittagblatt

X. London, 7 July. (On the Storm of the 18th.) Yesterday we set forth the original plan of the Allies for the storm of 18 June. Very late on the evening of the 17th, Pélissier learned that the Russians intended a large new attack on the Mamelon for the following day. This he should have regarded as a veritable stroke of luck; for the defence of the Mamelon against any force the Russians could hurl against it must have been beyond all doubt. How else could the Mamelon (now christened the Brancion Redoubt) have served as the base of operations for the storm of the Malakoff? Thus, the Russians, defeated in their attack on the Mamelon, would have found themselves in the fatal position of having to fight a second battle for the Malakoff, and under these circumstances the success of operations against the latter position seems to have been as good as certain. Pélissier, however, saw it differently. Late at night he countermanded the cannonade and ordered the storm for 3 o’clock in the morning. The signal was to be given by three rockets. The English were likewise informed of this change in the disposition.

This procedure ended, as it was bound to end, in the way Napoleon, the real Napoleon, describes the fate of wavering and blundering generals: “Ordre, contre-ordre, désordre.” Half an hour before the appointed time, the extreme right French column became engaged with the enemy. Whether the Russians lured them out by a feigned sortie, or whether, as Pélissier says, the general mistook a French shell for the signal rockets, is not entirely clear. In any event, Pélissier was forced to precipitate his signal, and the columns, still busy seeking out the places assigned to them in the trenches, had to set themselves in motion in half-confusion and partly from points of attack other than those assigned. The middle French column, intended to turn the flank of the Malakoff, reached its objective and penetrated the Russian works; but the two other columns could not force their way through the hail of grape-shot and musket fire that greeted them. Each column consisted of a brigade of four battalions; the second brigade of each division was in the second line, while the Guards formed the general reserve. Thus, about 4 divisions or 20,000 men were available. The second line was sent forward to support the first attack, but in vain; the Guards were finally ordered forward, checked, and at last also thrown back. Only 2 battalions remained available. It was half past two. The brigade of the middle column that had penetrated the Russian works was thrown out; at every point the French were driven back with heavy loss, and fresh troops were not to hand. The English were just as unsuccessful. Pélissier ordered a retreat, which, as he says, was effected “with dignity.”

On the English side, each leading column numbered only 1,800 men, 1,000 fewer than the French. Of these 1,800, 1,000 were intended for fighting, 800 for carrying out the necessary engineering work. In the second line behind each column stood the rest of the brigade from which it had been taken, 1,200–1,400 men. In the third line, the second brigade of each division behind its first brigade. Finally, the Guards and Highlanders (First Division) formed the general reserve. Thus, of the entire English infantry assembled on the spot, only 7,200 men were to be launched forward in the first assault, and of these only 4,000 were actually to take part in the fighting. This thinness of the first columns was caused partly by the traditions of the British service, partly by their habit of attacking in line. All reports lead to the conclusion that even on this occasion they attacked in line, thus presenting a uselessly extended target to the enemy’s bullets. The complication caused by the deployment of four distinct lines, one behind the other, in narrow and irregular trenches, created great disorder and mishap from the outset, and must have produced extreme confusion had the fighting in any way become serious. The first and third columns (from right to left) were to turn the flanks of the Redan, while the second, once they had attained their objective, was to attack its salient angle. The fourth or extreme left column was to attack the head of the inner harbour.

As soon as the signal was given, the columns, exactly like the French, were still moving towards their respective positions. The first column, however, leaped over the breastwork of the trenches and was immediately greeted by murderous grape-shot fire. The troops, thrown into disorder by the scramble, could not form up. Colonel Yea, their commander, was already shouting for a bugler to sound the retreat; no bugler was to be found, and on they stormed in great disorder. Some penetrated as far as the abatis surrounding the Redan, but in vain. The mass of the column suddenly fell back and sought the shelter of the trenches. The second column advanced one or two minutes later. It missed its way and stormed the face of the Redan instead of the flank. It reeled forward under a terrible hail of projectiles, was broken, and retreated in complete dissolution after a few short minutes. Thus ended the attack on the Redan, before any of Lord Raglan’s complicated reserves had time to come up to their support. The second column was so taken aback by this sudden collapse of its flank support that it did not even leave its trenches. The fourth column alone succeeded in establishing itself in the cemetery and the surrounding houses. Here about 1,800 men held out throughout the whole day; they could not retreat, for the ground behind them was open and under the cross-fire of the Russians. Thus they fought, as best they could, until 9 o’clock in the evening, when they effected their withdrawal in the dark. Their loss amounted to more than a third of their number. Thus ended Pélissier’s great attack on the Karabelnaya suburb. It was an undertaking hastily decided upon, still more hastily altered in its main features shortly before the decisive moment, and carried out with extraordinary botching. That Russian officer was right who, during the armistice of the 19th, asked an English officer: “Were your generals drunk yesterday when they commanded the storm?”