At ten minutes past eleven our Light Cavalry Brigade advanced. The whole

Brigade scarcely made one effective regiment, according to the numbers

of continental armies; and yet it was more than we could spare. They

swept proudly past, glittering in the morning sun in all the pride and

splendour of war. They advanced in two lines, quickened their pace as

they closed towards the enemy. At the distance of 1,200 yards the whole

line of the enemy belched forth, from thirty iron mouths, a flood of

smoke and flame. The flight was marked by instant gaps in our ranks, by

dead men and horses, by steeds flying wounded or riderless across the

plain. In diminished ranks, with a halo of steel above their heads, and

with a cheer which was many a noble fellow's death-cry, they flew into

the smoke of the batteries; but ere they were lost from view the plain

was strewed with their bodies.

[Illustration:

PLAN OF

BALAKLAVA

_SHEWING THE_

CAVALRY ACTION

OF OCT 25th 1854.

Table of Killed & Wounded

+-----------------+------------------++------------------+---------+-+

| | OFFICERS || MEN | HORSES | |

| | Killed | Wounded || Killed | Wounded | Killed | |

| | | || | | | |

| { British | 13 27 || 142 | 197 | 361 | |

| { | | || | | | |

|Allies { French | 2 | 4 || 21 | 33 | 79 | |

| { | | || | | | |

| { Turkish | 3 | 7 || 285 | -- | |

| +--------+---------++--------+---------+---------+ |

| Total | 18 | 38 || 678 | 450 | |

| +--------+---------++------------------+---------+ |

| |

| Russian 700 Killed & Wounded |

+--------------------------------------------------------------------+

Total Numbers on the Field

+-------------------+--------++--------+-+

| | MEN || GUNS | |

| | || | |

| { British | 9,900 || 24 | |

| { | || | |

|Allies { French | 4,800 || 12 | |

| { | || | |

| { Turkish | 400 || 8 | |

| | || | |

| Russians | 18,500 || 40 | |

| +--------++--------+ |

| Total | 33,600 || 84 | |

| +--------++--------+ |

+----------------------------------------+

Through the clouds of smoke we could see their sabres flashing as they

rode between the guns, cutting down the gunners as they stood. We saw

them riding through, returning, after breaking through a column of

Russians, and scattering them like chaff, when the flank fire of the

batteries on the hill swept them down. Wounded men and dismounted

troopers flying towards us told the sad tale. At the very moment a

regiment of Lancers was hurled upon their flank. Colonel Shewell, of the

8th Hussars, whose attention was drawn to them by Lieutenant Phillips,

saw the danger, and rode his few men straight at them. It was as much as

our Heavy Cavalry Brigade could do to cover the retreat of the

miserable remnants of that band of heroes as they returned to the place

they had so lately quitted in all the pride of life. At thirty-five

minutes past eleven not a British soldier, except the dead and dying,

was left in front of these Muscovite guns. The Heavy Cavalry, in columns

of squadrons, moved slowly backwards, covering the retreat of the broken

men. The ground was left covered with our men and with hundreds of

Russians, and we could see the Cossacks busy searching the dead. Our

infantry made a forward movement towards the redoubts after the cavalry

came in, and the Russian infantry in advance slowly retired towards the

gorge; at the same time the French cavalry pushed forward on their

right, and held them in check, pushing out a line of skirmishers, and

forcing them to withdraw their guns.

Captain Nolan was killed by the first shot fired, as he rode in advance

of the first line. Lord Cardigan received a lance thrust through his

clothes.

While the affair was going on, the French cavalry made a most brilliant

charge at the battery on our left, and cut down the gunners; but they

could not get off the guns, and had to retreat with the loss of two

captains and fifty men killed and wounded out of their little force of

200 Chasseurs.

The Russians from the redoubt continued to harass us, and the First

Division were ordered to lie down in two lines. The Fourth Division,

covered by the rising ground, and two regiments of French infantry which

had arrived in the valley, followed by artillery, moved onwards to

operate on the Russian right, already threatened by the French cavalry.

The Russians threw out skirmishers to meet the French skirmishers, and

the French contented themselves with keeping their position. At eleven

A.M., the Russians, feeling alarmed at our steady advance and at the

symptoms of our intention to turn or cut off their right, retired from

No. 1 redoubt, which was taken possession of by the allies. At fifteen

minutes past eleven they abandoned redoubt No. 2, blowing up the

magazine; and, as we still continued to advance, they blew up and

abandoned No. 3 at forty-five minutes past eleven; but, to our great

regret, we could not prevent their taking off seven out of nine guns in

the works.

At forty-eight minutes past eleven, the Russian infantry began to

retire, a portion crept up the hills behind the 1st redoubt, which still

belonged to them. The artillery on the right of the First Division fired

shot and rockets at the 1st redoubt, but could not do much good, nor

could the heavy guns of the batteries near the town carry so far as to

annoy the Russians. At twelve o'clock the greater portion of the French

and English moved on, and an accession to the artillery was made by two

French batteries, pushed on towards the front of our left. The First

Division remained still in line along the route to Balaklava. From

twelve to fifteen minutes passed, not a shot was fired on either side,

but the Russians gathered up their forces towards the heights over the

gorge, and, still keeping their cavalry on the plain, manoeuvred in

front on our right.

[Sidenote: A HARMLESS ATTACK.]

At twenty-eight minutes after twelve the allies again got into motion,

with the exception of the First Division, which moved _en échelon_

towards the opposite hills, keeping their right wing well before

Balaklava. At forty minutes after twelve, Captain Calthorpe was sent by

Lord Raglan with orders which altered the disposition of our front, for

the French, at one P.M. showed further up on our left. As our object was

solely to keep Balaklava, we had no desire to bring on a general

engagement; and as the Russians would not advance, but kept their

cavalry in front of the approach to the mountain passes, it became

evident the action was over. The cannonade, which began again at a

quarter-past twelve, and continued with very little effect, ceased

altogether at a quarter-past one. The two armies retained their

respective positions.

Lord Raglan continued on the hill-side all day, watching the enemy. It

was dark ere he returned to his quarters. With the last gleam of day we

could see the sheen of the enemy's lances in their old position in the

valley; and their infantry gradually crowned the heights on their left,

and occupied the road to the village which is beyond Balaklava to the

southward. Our Guards were moving back, as I passed them, and the tired

French and English were replaced by a French division, which marched

down to the valley at five o'clock.

We had 13 officers killed or taken, 162 men killed or taken; 27 officers

wounded, 224 men wounded. Total killed, wounded, and missing, 426.

Horses, killed or missing, 394; horses wounded, 126; total, 520.

In the night when our guns were taken into Sebastopol, there was joy

throughout the city, and it was announced that the Russians had gained a

great victory. A salvo of artillery was fired, and at nine o'clock P.M.

a tremendous cannonade was opened against our lines by the enemy. It did

no injury. At one P.M. on the 26th, about 4,000 men made an attack on

our right flank, but were repulsed by Sir De Lacy Evans's Division, with

the loss of 500 men killed and wounded. As I was engaged in my tent and

did not see the action, I think it right to give the dispatches which

relate this brilliant affair.

"_Lieutenant-General Sir De Lacy Evans to Lord Raglan._

"2nd Division, Heights of the Tchernaya, Oct. 27, 1854.

IND

"MY LORD,

"Yesterday the enemy attacked this division with several columns of

infantry supported by artillery. Their cavalry did not come to the

front. Their masses, covered by large bodies of skirmishers,

advanced with much apparent confidence. The division immediately

formed line in advance of our camp, the left under Major-General

Pennefather, the right under Brigadier-General Adams.

Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzmayer and the Captains of batteries (Turner

and Yates) promptly posted their guns and opened fire upon the

enemy.

"Immediately on the cannonade being heard, the Duke of Cambridge

brought up to our support the brigade of Guards under Major-General

Bentinck, with a battery under Lieutenant-Colonel Dacres. His Royal

Highness took post in advance of our right to secure that flank,

and rendered me throughout the most effective and important

assistance. General Bosquet, with similar promptitude and from a

greater distance, approached our position with five French

battalions. Sir G. Cathcart hastened to us with a regiment of

Rifles, and Sir G. Brown pushed forward two guns in co-operation by

our left.

"The enemy came on at first rapidly, assisted by their guns on the

Mound Hill. Our pickets, then chiefly of the 49th and 30th

Regiments, resisted them with remarkable determination and

firmness. Lieutenant Conolly, of the 49th, greatly distinguished

himself, as did Captain Bayley, of the 30th, and Captain Atcherley,

all of whom, I regret to say, were severely wounded. Serjeant

Sullivan also displayed at this point great bravery.

"In the meantime our eighteen guns in position, including those of

the First Division, were served with the utmost energy. In half an

hour they forced the enemy's artillery to abandon the field. Our

batteries were then directed with equal accuracy and vigour-upon

the enemy's columns, which (exposed also to the close fire of our

advanced infancy) soon fell into complete disorder and flight. They

were then literally chased by the 30th and 95th Regiments over the

ridges and down towards the head of the bay. So eager was the

pursuit, that it was with difficulty Major-General Pennefather

eventually effected the recall of our men. These regiments and the

pickets were led gallantly by Major Mauleverer, Major Champion,

Major Eman and Major Hume. They were similarly pursued further

towards our right by four companies of the 41st, led gallantly by

Lieutenant-Colonel the Honourable P. Herbert, A.Q.M.G. The 47th

also contributed. The 55th were held in reserve.

"Above 80 prisoners fell into our hands, and about 130 of the

enemy's dead were left within or near our position. It is computed

that their total loss could scarcely be less than 600.

"Our loss, I am sorry to say, has been above 80, of whom 12 killed,

5 officers wounded. I am happy to say, hopes are entertained that

Lieutenant Conolly will recover, but his wound is dangerous.

"I will have the honour of transmitting to your Lordship a list of

officers, non-commissioned officers, and privates, whose conduct

attracted special notice. That of the pickets excited general

admiration.

"To Major-General Pennefather and Brigadier-General Adams I was, as

usual, greatly indebted. To Lieutenant-Colonel Dacres,

Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzmayer, Captains Turner, Yates, Woodhouse,

and Hamley, and the whole of the Royal Artillery, we are under the

greatest obligation.

[Sidenote: THE GENERAL'S DESPATCH.]

"Lieutenant-Colonel Herbert, A.Q.M.G., rendered the division, as he

always does, highly distinguished and energetic services.

Lieutenant-Colonel Wilbraham, A.A.G., while serving most actively,

I regret to say, had a very severe fall from his horse. I beg

leave also to recommend to your Lordship's favourable consideration

the excellent services of Captains Glasbrook and Thompson, of the

Quartermaster-General's Department, the Brigade-Majors Captains

Armstrong and Thackwell, and my personal staff, Captains Allix,

Gubbins, and the Honourable W. Boyle.

"I have, &c.

"DE LACY EVANS, Lieutenant-General."

"_Lord Raglan to the Duke of Newcastle._

"Before Sebastopol, Oct. 28, 1854.

IND

"MY LORD DUKE,

"I have nothing particular to report to your Grace respecting the

operations of the siege since I wrote to you on the 23rd instant. The

fire has been somewhat less constant, and our casualties have been

fewer, though I regret to say that Captain Childers, a very promising

officer of the Royal Artillery, was killed on the evening of the 23rd,

and I have just heard that Major Dalton, of the 49th, of whom

Lieutenant-General Sir De Lacy Evans entertained a very high opinion,

was killed in the trenches last night.

"The enemy moved out of Sebastopol on the 26th with a large force of

infantry, cavalry, and artillery, amounting, it is said, to 6,000 or

7,000 men, and attacked the left of the Second Division, commanded by

Lieutenant-General Sir De Lacy Evans, who speedily and energetically

repulsed them, assisted by one of the batteries of the First Division

and some guns of the Light Division, and supported by a brigade of

Guards, and by several regiments of the Fourth Division, and in rear by

the French Division, commanded by General Bosquet, who was most eager in

his desire to give him every aid.

"I have the honour to transmit a copy of Sir De Lacy Evans's report,

which I am sure your Grace will read with the highest satisfaction, and

I beg to recommend the officers whom he particularly mentions to your

protection.

"Captain Bayley of the 30th, and Captain Atcherley of the same regiment,

and Lieutenant Conolly of the 49th, all of whom are severely wounded,

appear to have greatly distinguished themselves.

"I cannot speak in too high terms of the manner in which

Lieutenant-General Sir De Lacy Evans met this very serious attack. I had

not the good fortune to witness it myself, being occupied in front of

Balaklava at the time it commenced, and having only reached his position

as the affair ceased, but I am certain I speak the sentiments of all who

witnessed the operation in saying that nothing could have been better

managed, and that the greatest credit is due to the Lieutenant-General,

whose services and conduct I have before had to bring under your Grace's

notice.

"I inclose the return of the losses the army has sustained since

the 22nd.

"I have, &c.

"RAGLAN."

On the 28th of October our cavalry abandoned their old camp. They took

up ground on the hills on the road to Balaklava, close to the rear of

the French centre. We thus abandoned the lower road to the enemy.

CHAPTER III.

Relative Position of the rival Forces at the end of

October--"Whistling Dick"--Sir De Lacy Evans's Accident--No Bono

Johnnies--French Batteries again open Fire--A Weak Point--First

Surprise--Commencement of the Battle of Inkerman--Heroic

Defence--Death of Sir George Cathcart--Sir George Brown

wounded--Fearful Odds--The Guards--Casualties--The Sandbag

Battery--Superiority of the Minié Rifle--Advance of the

French--Complete Rout of the enemy--Inkerman won.

The end of October. All waiting for the French. I am not sure but that

the French were waiting for us to "_écraser_" some of the obnoxious

batteries which played upon their works from ugly enfilading positions.

[Sidenote: A TRICK OF "WHISTLING DICK."]

The Quarantine Fort was opposed to them on their extreme left. Then came

a long, high, loopholed wall or curtain extending in front of the town

from the back of the Quarantine Fort to the Flagstaff Battery. The

Russians had thrown up a very deep and broad ditch in front of this

wall, and the French artillery had made no impression on the stonework

at the back. The Flagstaff Battery, however, and all the houses near it,

were in ruin; but the earthworks in front of it, armed with at least

twenty-six heavy guns, were untouched, and kept up a harassing fire on

the French working parties, particularly at certain periods of the day,

and at the interval between nine and eleven o'clock at night, when they

thought the men were being relieved in the trenches. Inside the Road

Battery we could see the Russians throwing up a new work, armed with six

heavy ships' guns. They had also erected new batteries behind the Redan

and behind the Round Tower. The latter was a mass of crumbled stone, but

two guns kept obstinately blazing away at our 21-gun battery from the

angle of the earthwork around it, and the Redan had not been silenced,

though the embrasures and angles of the work were much damaged. The

heavy frigate which had been "dodging" our batteries so cleverly again

gave us a taste of her quality in the right attack. She escaped from the

position in which she lay before where we had placed two 24-pounders for

her, and came out again on the 29th in a great passion, firing regular

broadsides at our battery and sweeping the hill up to it completely.

Occasionally she varied this amusement with a round or two from 13-inch

mortars. These shells did our works and guns much damage: but the

sailors, who were principally treated to these agreeable missiles, got

quite accustomed to them. "Bill," cries one fellow to another, "look

out, here comes 'Whistling Dick!'" The 13-inch shell has been thus

baptized by them in consequence of the noise it makes. They look up, and

their keen, quick eyes discern the globe of iron as it describes its

curve aloft. Long ere "Whistling Dick" has reached the ground the

blue-jackets are snug in their various hiding-places; but all the power

of man could not keep them from peeping out now and then to see if the

fusee is still burning. One of them approached a shell which he thought

had "gone out;" it burst just as he got close to it, and the concussion

dashed him to the ground. He got up, and in his rage, shaking his fist

at the spot where the shell had been, he exclaimed, "You ---- deceitful

beggar, there's a trick to play me!"

Sir De Lacy Evans met with an accident on the 29th, which compelled him

to resign the command to Brigadier-General Pennefather. His horse fell

with him as he was going at a sharp trot; and the shock so weakened him

that he was obliged to go on board the _Simoom_.

The Turks, or, as they were called, the "Bono Johnnies," except by the

sailors, who called them "_No_ bono Johnnies," were employed in working

in the trenches. The first night in Captain Chapman's attack they worked

till ten o'clock at night, when a Russian shell came over. They ran

away, carrying a portion of our working and covering parties; they were

re-formed and worked till eleven o'clock, when they declared it was "the

will of Heaven they should labour no more that night," and, as they had

exerted themselves, it was considered advisable to let them go. They

were decimated by dysentery and diarrhoea, and died in swarms. They

had no medical officers, and our surgeons were not sufficient in number

for our army. Nothing could exceed their kindness to their own sick. It

was common to see strings of them on the road to Balaklava carrying men

on their backs down to the miserable shed which served them as a

hospital, or rather as a "dead-house."

A deserter from the Russian cavalry on the 30th said the Russians were

without tents or cover; their fare was scanty and miserable, and their

sufferings great.

The French batteries opened on the 1st of November. For an hour they

fired with vivacity and effect; one battery which enfiladed them on the

right was plied with energy, but the remainder, with the exception of

the Flagstaff redoubt, were silent. The Russians had about 240 guns in

their new works, reckoning those which had been subject to our fire. The

French had 64 guns in position, most of them brass twenty-fours, the

others thirty-twos and forty-eights, some ship's eighty-fours not

mounted. The French might be seen like patches of moss on the rocks, and

the incessant puffs of smoke with constant "pop!" rose along our front

from morning to night.

The earthworks around the town of Balaklava began to assume a formidable

aspect. Trenches ran across the plains and joined the mounds to each

other, so as to afford lines of defence. On the right of the approach

the Highlanders, in three camps, were placed close to the town, with a

sailors' battery of two heavy guns above. Higher up, on a very elevated

hill-side, the Marines and Riflemen were encamped. There were four

batteries bearing on this approach. The battery on the extreme right, on

the road leading over the hills from Yalta, contained two 32-pounder

howitzers; the second battery on the right, facing the valley, contained

five guns; and the fourth battery, nearest Balaklava, contained eight

brass howitzers, four 12, two 32, and two 24-pounders. The left approach

was commanded by the heights held by the French infantry over the

valley, and by the Turkish works in front. A formidable redoubt, under

the command of Captain Powell, R.N., overlooked the approaches, armed

with heavy ship's guns.

The Turks had cut up the ground so that it almost resembled a

chess-board when viewed from one of the hills. They constructed ditches

over valleys which led nowhere, and fortified passes conducting to

abstruse little _culs-de-sac_ in the hill sides.

From the road to Balaklava on the 3rd, we could see the Russians engaged

in "hutting" themselves for the winter, and on the 3rd of November I

made a little reconnaissance of my own in their direction. Their

advanced posts were just lighting bivouac fires for the night. A

solitary English dragoon, with the last rays of the setting sun

glittering on his helmet, was perched on the only redoubt in our

possession, watching the motions of the enemy. Two Cossacks on similar

duty on the second redoubt were leaning on their lances, while their

horses browsed the scanty herbage at the distance of about 500 yards

from our dragoon sentry. Two hundred yards in their rear were two

Cossack pickets of twenty or thirty men each. A stronger body was

stationed in loose order some four or five hundred yards further back.

Six _pelotons_ of cavalry came next, with field batteries in the

intervals. Behind each _peloton_ were six strong columns of cavalry in

reserve, and behind the intervals six battalions of grey-coated Russian

infantry lay on their arms. They maintained this attitude day and night,

it was said, and occasionally gave us an alert by pushing up the valley.

On looking more closely into their position through the glass, it could

be seen that they had fortified the high table-land on their right with

an earthwork of quadrilateral form, in which I counted sixteen

embrasures.

[Sidenote: COVERT ATTACK BY THE RUSSIANS.]

In their rear was the gorge of the Black River, closed up by towering

rocks and mountain precipices. On their left a succession of slabs (so

to speak) of table-land, each higher than the other, and attaining an

elevation of 1,200 feet. The little village of Kamara, perched on the

side of one of these slabs, commanded a view of our position, and was no

doubt the head-quarters of the army in the valley. The Russians were

stationed along these heights, and had pushed their lines to the sea on

the high-peaked mountain chain to the south-east of our Marines. As the

valley was connected with Sebastopol by the Inkerman road, they had

thus drawn a _cordon militaire_ around our position on the land side,

and we were besieged in our camp, having, however, our excellent friend,

the sea, open on the west.

On the 4th November the fire on the place and the return continued. The

Russians fired about sixty guns per hour, and we replied. The French

burrowed and turned up the earth vigorously. A quantity of 10-inch shot

were landed, but, unfortunately, we had no 10-inch guns for them. Two

guns were added to the batteries of the right attack, which now

contained twenty-three pieces of artillery. Whenever I looked at the

enemy's earthworks I thought of the Woolwich butt. What good had we done

by all this expenditure of shot, and shell, and powder? a few guns, when

we first came, might have saved incredible toil and labour because they

would have rendered it all but impossible for the Russians to cast up

entrenchments and works before the open entrance to Sebastopol.

Whilst we were yet in hopes of taking the place, and of retiring to the

Bosphorus for winter quarters, the enemy, animated by the presence of

two of the Imperial Grand Dukes, made a vigorous attempt to inflict on

the allies a terrible punishment for their audacity in setting foot on

the territory of the Czar. The Battle of Inkerman was at hand.

It had rained almost incessantly for the greater part of the night of

November 4th, and the early morning gave no promise of any cessation of

the heavy showers. As dawn broke the fog and drifting rain were so thick

that one could scarcely see two yards. At four o'clock A.M. the bells of

the churches in Sebastopol were heard ringing drearily through the cold

night air, but the occurrence excited no particular attention. About

three o'clock A.M., a man of the 23rd regiment on outlying picket heard

the sound of wheels in the valley, but supposed it arose from carts or

arabas going into Sebastopol by the Inkerman road. After the battle he

mentioned the circumstance to Major Bunbury, who rebuked him for

neglecting to report it. No one suspected that masses of Russians were

then creeping up the rugged heights over the Valley of Inkerman against

the undefended flank of the Second Division, and were bringing into

position an overwhelming artillery, ready to play upon their tents at

the first glimpse of day.

Sir De Lacy Evans had long been aware of the insecurity of his position,

and had repeatedly pointed it out. It was the only ground where we were

exposed to surprise. Ravines and curves in the hill lead up to the crest

against which our right flank was resting, without guns, intrenchments,

abattis, or defence of any kind. Every one admitted the truth of the

representations, but indolence, or a false sense of security led to

indifference and procrastination. A battery was thrown up of sandbags on

the slope of the hill, but Sir De Lacy Evans, thinking that two guns

without any works to support them would only invite attack, caused them

to be removed as soon as they had silenced the Light-house Battery,

which had been firing on his camp.

The action of the 26th of October might be considered as a

_reconnaissance en force_. They were waiting for reinforcements to

assault the position where it was vulnerable, speculating on the effects

of a surprise of a sleeping camp on a winter's morning. Although the

arrangements of Sir De Lacy Evans on repulsing the sortie were, as Lord

Raglan declared, "so perfect that they could not fail to insure

success," it was evident that a larger force would have forced him to

retire from his ground, or to fight a battle in defence of it. No effort

was made to intrench the lines, to cast up a single shovel of earth, to

cut down the brushwood, or form an abattis. It was thought "not to be

necessary."

Heavy responsibility rests on those whose neglect enabled the enemy to

attack where we were least prepared for it, and whose indifference led

them to despise precautions which might have saved many lives, and

trebled the loss of the enemy. We had nothing to rejoice over, and

almost everything to deplore, in the battle of Inkerman. We defeated the

enemy indeed, but did not advance one step nearer Sebastopol. We

abashed, humiliated, and utterly routed an enemy strong in numbers, in

fanaticism, and in dogged courage, but we suffered a fearful loss when

we were not in a position to part with one man.

It was a little after five o'clock in the morning, when Codrington, in

accordance with his usual habit, visited the outlying pickets of his

brigade. It was reported that "all was well" along the line. The General

entered into conversation with Captain Pretyman, of the 33rd Regiment,

who was on duty, and in the course of it some one remarked it would not

be surprising if the Russians availed themselves of the gloom to make an

attack. The Brigadier, an excellent officer, turned his pony round

vigilant, and had only ridden a few yards, when a sharp rattle of

musketry was heard down the hill on the left of his pickets, and where

the pickets of the Second Division were stationed. Codrington at once

turned in the direction of the firing, and in a few moments galloped

back to camp to turn out his division. The Russians were advancing in

force. The pickets of the Second Division had scarcely made out the

infantry clambering up the steep hill through a drizzling rain before

they were forced to retreat by a close sharp musketry, and driven up the

hill, contesting every step, and firing as long as they had a round of

ammunition. Their grey greatcoats rendered them almost invisible even

when close at hand.

The pickets of the Light Division were soon assailed and obliged to fall

back. About the time of the advance on our right flank took place a

demonstration against Balaklava, but the enemy contented themselves with

drawing up their cavalry in order of battle, supported by field

artillery, at the neck of the valley, in readiness to sweep over the

heights and cut off our retreat, should the assault on our right be

successful. A steamer with very heavy guns was sent up by night to the

head of the creek at Inkerman, and threw enormous shells over the hill.

[Sidenote: A CHEERING PROSPECT.]

Everything that could be done to bind victory to their eagles was done

by the Russian Generals. The presence of the Grand Dukes Nicholas and

Michael, who told them that the Czar had issued orders that every

Frenchman and Englishman was to be driven into the sea ere the year

closed, cheered the common soldiers, who regard the son of the Emperor

as an emanation of the Divine presence. Abundance of a coarser and more

material stimulant was found in their flasks; and the priests "blessed"

them ere they went forth, and assured them of the aid and protection of

the Most High. A mass was said. The joys of Heaven were offered those

who might fall in the holy fight, and the favours of the Emperor were

promised to those who might survive the bullets of the enemy.

The men in camp had just began to struggle with the rain in endeavouring

to light their fires, when the alarm was sounded. Pennefather, to whom

Sir De Lacy Evans had given up for the time the command of the Second

Division, got the troops under arms. Adams's brigade, consisting of the

41st, 47th, and 49th Regiments, was pushed on to the brow of the hill to

check the advance of the enemy by the road from the valley.

Pennefather's brigade, consisting of the 30th, 55th, and 95th Regiments,

was posted on their flank. The regiments met a tremendous fire from guns

posted on the high grounds. Sir George Cathcart led such portions of the

20th, 21st, 46th, 57th, 63rd, and 68th Regiments as were not employed in

the trenches, to the right of the ground occupied by the Second

Division.

It was intended that Torrens's brigade should move in support of

Goldie's, but the enemy were in such strength that the whole force of

the division, which consisted of only 2,200 men, was needed to repel

them. Codrington, with part of the 7th, 23rd, and 33rd, sought to cover

the extreme of our right attack, and the sloping ground towards

Sebastopol; Buller's brigade was brought up to support the Second

Division on the left; Jeffrey's with the 88th, being pushed forward in

the bushwood on the ridge of one of the principal ravines. As soon as

Brown brought up his division, they were under fire from an unseen

enemy. The Third Division, under Sir R. England, was in reserve. Part of

the 50th, under Wilton, and 1st Battalion Royals, under Bell, were

slightly engaged ere the day was over. The Duke of Cambridge turned out

the Guards under Bentinck, and advanced on the right of the Second

Division to the summit of the hill overlooking the valley of the

Tchernaya. Between the left and the right of the Second Division there

was a ravine, which lost itself on the plateau, close to the road to

Sebastopol. This road was not protected; only a few scarps were made in

it, and the pickets at night were only a short distance in advance. A

low breastwork crossed this road at the plateau by the tents of the

Second Division. On arriving at the edge of the plateau on the right

ravine, the Duke of Cambridge saw two columns coming up the steep ground

covered with brushwood. The enemy were already in the Sandbag Redoubt,

but His Royal Highness at once led the Guards to the charge.

It has been doubted whether any enemy ever stood in conflicts with the

bayonet, but here the bayonet was employed in a fight of the most

obstinate character. We had been prone to believe that no foe could

withstand the British soldier; but at Inkerman, not only were desperate

encounters maintained with the bayonet, but we were obliged to resist

the Russian infantry again and again, as they charged us.

It was six o'clock before the Head-Quarter camp was roused by the

musketry, and by the report of field guns. Soon after seven o'clock A.M.

Lord Raglan rode towards the scene, followed by his staff. As they

approached, the steady, unceasing roll told that the engagement was

serious. When a break in the fog enabled the Russian gunners to see the

camp of the Second Division, the tents were sent into the air or set on

fire. Gambier was ordered to get up two 18-pounders to reply to a fire

which our light guns were utterly inadequate to meet. As he was exerting

himself in his duty, Gambier was severely but not dangerously wounded.

His place was taken by Lieutenant-Colonel Dickson, and the fire of those

two pieces had the most marked effect in deciding the fate of the day.

Our Generals could not see where to go. They could not tell where the

enemy were. In darkness and rain they had to lead our lines through

thick bushes and thorny brakes, which broke our ranks. Every pace was

marked by a man down, wounded by an enemy whose position was only

indicated by the rattle of musketry and the rush of ball.

[Sidenote: A BRAVE MAN KILLED.]

Cathcart, advancing from the centre of our position, came to the hill

where the Guards were engaged, and, after a few words with the Duke, led

the 63rd Regiment down on the right of the Guards into a ravine filled

with brushwood, towards the valley of the Tchernaya. He perceived, as he

did so, that the Russians had gained possession of the hill in rear of

his men, but his stout heart never failed him for a moment. A deadly

volley was poured into our scattered companies. Sir George cheered and

led them back up the hill, and Cathcart fell from his horse close to the

Russian columns. He rode at the head of the leading company, encouraging

them. A cry arose that ammunition was failing. "Have you not got your

bayonets?" As he lead on his men, another body of the enemy had gained

the top of the hill behind them on the right, but it was impossible to

tell whether they were friends or foes. The 63rd halted and fired. They

were met by a fierce volley. Seymour, who was wounded, got down from his

horse to aid his chief, but the enemy rushed down on them, and when our

men had driven them back, they lay dead side by side. The 63rd suffered

fearfully. They were surrounded, and won their desperate way up the hill

with the loss of nearly 500 men. Sir George Cathcart's body was

recovered with a bullet wound in the head and three bayonet wounds in

the body. In this attack where the Russians fought with the greatest

ferocity, and bayoneted the wounded, Colonel Swyny, 63rd, Major Wynne,

68th, Lieutenant Dowling, 20th, and other officers, met their death.

Goldie, who was engaged with his brigade on the left of the Inkerman

road, received the wounds of which he afterwards died about the same

time. The fight had not long commenced before it was evident that the

Russians had received orders to fire at all mounted officers. The

regiments did not take their colours into the battle, but the officers,

nevertheless, were picked off, and it did not require the colour to

indicate their presence.

The conflict on the right was equally uncertain and equally bloody. The

88th in front were surrounded; but four companies of the 77th, under

Major Straton, charged the Russians, and relieved their comrades.

Further to the right, a fierce contest took place between the Guards and

dense columns of Russians. The Guards twice charged them and drove the

enemy out of the Sandbag Battery, when they perceived that the Russians

had out-flanked them. They were out of ammunition. They had no reserve,

and they were fighting against an enemy who stoutly contested every inch

of ground, when another Russian column appeared in their rear. They had

lost fourteen officers; one-half of their number were on the ground. The

Guards retired. They were reinforced by a wing of the 20th under Major

Crofton. Meanwhile the Second Division, in the centre of the line, was

hardly pressed. The 41st Regiment was exposed to a terrible fire. The

95th only mustered sixty-four men when paraded at two o'clock, and the

whole Division when assembled by Major Eman in rear of their camp after

the fight was over numbered only 300 men.

At half-past nine o'clock, as Lord Raglan and his staff were on a knoll,

a shell came and exploded on Captain Somerset's horse; a portion tore

off the leather of Somerset's overalls. Gordon's horse was killed, and

it then carried away General Strangeway's leg; it hung by a shred of

flesh and bit of cloth from the skin. The old General never moved a

muscle. He said in a quiet voice, "Will any one be kind enough to lift

me off my horse?" He was laid on the ground, and at last carried to the

rear. He had not strength to undergo an operation, and died in two

hours.

At one time the Russians succeeded in getting up close to the guns of

Captain Wodehouse's and Captain Turner's batteries in the gloom of the

morning. Uncertain whether they were friends or foes, our artillerymen

hesitated to fire. The Russians charged, bore down all resistance, drove

away or bayoneted the gunners, and succeeded in spiking four of the

guns.

The rolling of musketry, the pounding of the guns were deafening. The

Russians, as they charged up the heights, yelled like demons. The

regiments of the Fourth Division and the Marines, armed with the old and

much-belauded Brown Bess, could do nothing against the Muscovite

infantry, but the Minié smote them like the hand of the Destroying

Angel. The disproportion of numbers was, however, too great--our men

were exhausted--but at last came help. At last the French appeared on

our right.

It was after nine o'clock when the French streamed over the brow of the

hill on our right--Chasseurs d'Orleans, Tirailleurs, Indigènes, Zouaves,

Infantry of the Line, and Artillery--and fell upon the flank of the

Russians. On visiting the spot it was curious to observe how men of all

arms--English, French, and Russians--lay together, showing that the

ground must have been occupied by different bodies of troops. The French

were speedily engaged, for the Russians had plenty of men for all

comers. Their reserves in the valley and along the road to Sebastopol

received the shattered columns which were driven down the hill, allowed

them to re-form and attack again, or furnished fresh regiments to

assault the Allies again and again. This reserve seems to have consisted

of three large bodies--probably of 5,000 men each. The attacking force

could not have been less than 20,000 men, and it is a very low estimate

indeed of the strength of the Russians to place it at from 45,000 to

50,000 men of all arms. Some say there were from 55,000 to 60,000 men

engaged on the side of the enemy; but I think that number excessive, and

there certainly was not ground enough for them to show front upon.

Captain Burnett, R. N., states that he saw fresh bodies of Russians

marching up to the attack on three successive occasions, and that their

artillery was relieved no less than four times. The Minié rifle did our

work, and Lord Hardinge is entitled to the best thanks of the country

for his perseverance in arming this expedition as far as he could with

every rifle that could be got, notwithstanding the dislike with which

the weapon was received by many experienced soldiers.

Three battalions of the Chasseurs d'Orleans rushed by, the light of

battle on their faces. Their trumpets sounded above the din of battle,

and when we watched their eager dash on the flank of the enemy we knew

the day was safe. They were followed by a battalion of Chasseurs

Indigènes. At twelve o'clock they were driven pell-mell down the hill

towards the valley, where pursuit was impossible, as the roads were

commanded by artillery.

The day, which cleared up about eleven, again became obscured. Rain and

fog set in, and we could not pursue. We formed in front of our lines,

the enemy, covering his retreat by horse on the slopes, near the

Careening Bay, and by artillery fire, fell back upon the works, and

across the Inkerman Bridge. Our cavalry, the remnant of the Light

Brigade, were moved into a position where it was hoped they might be of

service, but they were too few to attempt anything, and lost several

horses and men. Cornet Cleveland, was struck by a piece of shell and

expired.

General Canrobert, who was wounded in the early part of the day,

directed the French, ably seconded by General Bosquet, whose devotion

was noble. Nearly all his escort were killed, wounded, or unhorsed.

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.

Looking down from the ridge, these ruins were, of course, to one's left

hand. To the right the eye followed the sweep of the valley till it was

closed in from view by the walls of the ridge, and by the mountains

which hemmed in the valley of Balaklava, and one could just catch, on

the side of the ridge, the corner of the nearest French earthwork,

thrown up to defend our rear, and cover the position towards Balaklava.

Below, to the right of the ridge, at the distance of 200 feet from the

top towards the valley, was the Sandbag, or two-gun battery, intended

for two guns, which had been withdrawn a few days before, after

silencing a Russian battery at Inkerman, because Sir De Lacy Evans

conceived that they would only invite attack, and would certainly be

taken, unconnected as they would have been with any line of defence. On

the left hand, overlooking this battery, was a road from Balaklava right

across our camp through the Second Division's tents on their front,

which ran over the ridge and joined the upper road to Inkerman. Some of

the Russian columns had climbed up by the ground along this road; others

had ascended on the left, in front and to the right of the Sandbag

Battery.

Litter-bearers, French and English, dotted the hillside, hunting through

the bushes for the dead or dying, toiling painfully up with a burden for

the grave, or some object for the doctor's care. Our men had acquired a

shocking facility in their diagnosis. A body was before you; there was a

shout, "Come here, boys, I see a Russian!" (or "a Frenchman," or "one of

our fellows!") One of the party advances, raises the eyelid, peers into

the eye, shrugs his shoulders, says "He's dead, he'll wait," and moves

back to the litter; some pull the feet, and arrive at equally correct

conclusions by that process. The dead were generally stripped of all but

their coats. The camp followers and blackguards from Balaklava, and

seamen from the ships, anxious for trophies, carried off all they could

take from the field.

Parties of men busy at work. Groups along the hill-side forty or fifty

yards apart. You find them around a yawning trench, thirty feet in

length by twenty feet in breadth, and six feet in depth. At the bottom

lie packed with exceeding art some thirty or forty corpses. The

grave-diggers stand chatting, waiting for arrivals to complete the

number. They speculate on the appearance of the body which is being

borne towards them. "It's Corporal----, of the--th, I think," says one.

"No! it's my rear rank man, I can see his red hair plain enough," and so

on. They discuss the merits or demerits of dead sergeants or comrades.

"Well, he was a hard man: many's the time I was belled through him!" or

"Poor Mick! he had fifteen years' service--a better fellow never

stepped." At last the number in the trench is completed. The bodies are

packed as closely as possible. Some have still upraised arms, in the

attitude of taking aim; their legs stick up through the mould; others

are bent and twisted like fantoccini. Inch after inch the earth rises

upon them, and they are left "alone in their glory." No, not alone; for

the hopes and affections of hundreds of human hearts lie buried with

them!

For about one mile and a half in length by half a mile in depth the

hill-side offered such sights as these. Upwards of 2,000 Russians were

buried there.

[Sidenote: WATCHING A TREACHEROUS ENEMY.]

As I was standing at the Sandbag Battery, talking to some

officers of the Guards, who were describing their terrible

losses, Colonel Cunynghame and Lieutenant-Colonel Wilbraham of the

Quarter-Master-General's staff rode up to superintend the burial

operations. The instant their cocked hats were seen above the ridge a

burst of smoke from the head of the harbour, and a shell right over us,

crashed into the hill-side, where our men were burying the Russian dead!

Colonel Cunynghame told me Lord Raglan had sent in a flag of truce that

morning to inform the Russians that the parties on the hill-side were

burying the dead. As he was speaking a second shell came close and broke

up our party. It is quite evident that the society of two officers in

cocked hats, on horseback, is not the safest in the world. We all three

retired.

During the battle of Inkerman the French were drawn up in three bodies

of about 2,000 men each on the ridge of the hills over Balaklava,

watching the movements of the Russian cavalry in the plain below. As I

came up the enemy were visible, drawn out into six divisions, with the

artillery and infantry ready to act, and horses saddled and bridled. It

was evident they were waiting for the signal to dash up the hills in our

rear and sabre our flying regiments. They had a long time to wait! The

French lines below us were lined by Zouaves; the gunners in the

redoubts, with matches lighted, were prepared to send their iron

messengers through the ranks of the horse the moment they came within

range. Behind the French 5,000 "Bono Johnnies" were drawn up in columns

as a reserve, and several Turkish regiments were also stationed under

the heights on the right, in a position to act in support should their

services be required. The French were on their march from the sea to our

assistance, and the black lines of their regiments streaked the grey

plain as they marched double-quick towards the scene of action. The

Chasseurs d'Afrique on their grey Arabs swept about the slopes of the

hills to watch an opportunity for a dash. Our own cavalry were drawn up

by their encampments, the Heavy Brigade on the left, the Light Brigade

in the centre of our position. The latter were out of fire for some

time, but an advance to the right exposed them to shot and shell. Mr.

Cleveland received a mortal wound, and several men and horses were

injured later in the day. The Heavy Cavalry were employed in protecting

our left and rear.

The column on the extreme Russian right, which came on our position at

the nearest point to Sebastopol, was mainly resisted by the Fourth

Division and the Marines. The Russian centre was opposed by the Second

Division and the Light Division. The Guards were opposed to the third or

left column of the Russians. The Fourth Division in a short time lost

all its generals--Cathcart, Goldie and Torrens--killed or mortally

wounded, and 700, or more than one quarter of its strength, put _hors de

combat_. The Second Division came out of action with six field officers

and twelve captains; Major Farrer, of the 47th Regiment, was senior, and

took command of the Division.

Sir De Lacy Evans was unwell on board ship when the fight began, but he

managed to ride up to the front, and I saw him on the battle-field in

the thick of the fight. Captain Allix, one of his aides-de-camp, was

killed; Captain Gubbins, another, was wounded.

The Brigade of the Guards lost fourteen officers killed; the wonder is

that any escaped the murderous fire. The Alma did not present anything

like the scene round the Sandbag Battery. Upwards of 1,200 dead and

dying Russians laid behind and around and in front of it, and many a

tall English Grenadier was there amid the frequent corpses of Chasseur

and Zouave. At one time, while the Duke was rallying his men, a body of

Russians came at him. Mr. Wilson, surgeon, 7th Hussars, attached to the

brigade, perceived the danger of his Royal Highness, and with great

gallantry assembled a few Guardsmen, led them to the charge, and

dispersed the Russians. The Duke's horse was killed. At the close of the

day he called Mr. Wilson in front and thanked him for having saved his

life.

[Sidenote: AN INTERESTING COLLOQUY.]

BOOK IV.

PREPARATIONS FOR A WINTER CAMPAIGN--THE HURRICANE--THE CONDITION OF

THE ARMY--THE TRENCHES IN WINTER--BALAKLAVA--THE COMMISSARIAT AND

MEDICAL STAFF.

CHAPTER I.

Formation of the Russian Army--Difficulties explained--Appearance

of the Men--Liège Muskets--Bayonets--Killing the Wounded--Glories

of Inkerman--Commissary Filder's merits--Hardships of the

Campaign--Officers in rags--Hurricane of the 14th of November--A

mighty and strong Wind--Tents dislodged--A Medical Officer in

difficulty--Horrors of the Scene--Sleet and Snow--Officers in

distress--Bad news from Balaklava--A Lull.

From a deserter at Head-Quarters I gleaned some particulars respecting

the formation of the Russian army. It had long been a puzzle to ignorant

people like ourselves why the Russian soldiers had numbers on their

shoulder-straps different from those on their buttons or on their caps.

In recording my observations of the appointments of the men killed at

the Alma, I remarked that certain "regiments" were present, judging by

the shoulder straps. It will appear that these numbers referred not to

regiments, but to divisions. So let our Pole, one of the few who came in

after Inkerman, speak for himself through an interpreter:--

"What does the number on the strap on your shoulder indicate?"

"It is No. 16. It shows that I belong to the 16th Division of the army."

"Who commands it?"

"I don't know--a General."

"What does the number 31 on your buttons mean?"

"It means that I belong to Regt. 31 of the 16th Division."

"What does the number 7 on your cap, with P after it, mean?"

"It indicates that I belong to the 7th rota of my polk."

"What does a rota mean?"

"It means a company of 250 men."

"How many rotas are in a polk?"

"There are sixteen rotas in each polk."

"And how many polks are in a division?"

"There are four polks in a division."

"If that is so, why have you 31 on your buttons?" (A pause, a stupid

look.)--"I don't know."

Finding our friend was getting into that helpless state of confusion

into which the first glimpses of decimal fractions are wont to plunge

the youthful arithmetician, we left him. Now let us combine our

information, and see what, according to this Polish authority, a Russian

division consists of. It stands thus:--

1 Rota = 250 men.

16 Rotas = 1 polk = 4,000 "

4 Polks = 1 division = 16,000 " One Division of infantry.

The men resembled those we met at the Alma, and were clad in the same

way. We saw no infantry with helmets, however, and our soldiers were

disappointed to find the Russians had, in most cases, come out without

their knapsacks. Their persons were very cleanly, and the whiteness of

their faces and of their feet were remarkable. Few of them had socks,

and the marauders had removed their boots whenever they were worth

taking. Our soldiers and sailors, as well as the French, looked out with

avidity for a good pair of Russian boots, and were quite adepts in

fitting themselves to a nicety by their simple mode of measurement--viz.,

placing their feet against those of the dead men. Many had medals, "the

campaign of 1848-49 in Hungary and Transylvania." They were generally

carried inside tin cases about their persons. Officers and men wore the

same long grey coats, the former being alone distinguishable by the

stripe of gold lace on the shoulder. Their uniform coats, of dark green

with white facings and red and yellow trimmings, were put on underneath

the great coat.

A considerable number of the Liège double-grooved rifles were found on

the field. Many of the muskets bore the date of 1841, and had been

altered into detonators. I remember a juvenile superstition in my

sparrow-killing days, that such guns "shot stronger" than either flint

or detonator, _pur sang_. Every part of the arm was branded most

carefully. The word "BAK" occurs on each separate part of it. The

Imperial eagle was on the brass heelplate, and on the lock "[Cyrillic:

TULA] (Tula), 1841." The bayonets were long, but not well steeled. They

bent if rudely handled or struck with force against the ground. The long

and polished gun-barrels were made of soft, but tough iron. They could

be bent to an acute angle without splitting. From the trigger-guard of

each musket a thong depended, fastened to a cap of stout leather, to put

over the nipple in wet weather. This seemed a simple and useful

expedient. The devotion of the men to their officers was remarkable. How

else was it that we seldom found either dead or wounded officers on the

ground? It was again asserted--and I fear with truth--that the wounded

Russians killed many of our men as they passed. For this reason our

soldiers smashed the stock and bent the barrels. Some carried rifles,

and heavy, thick swords with a saw-back, which they sold to the captains

and sailors of merchantmen. Medals, ribands, the small brass crucifixes,

and pictures of saints, and charms found upon the dead, were also in

great request.

[Sidenote: THE COMMISSARIAT.]

If it is considered that the soldiers who met these furious columns of

the Czar were the remnants of three British divisions, which scarcely

numbered 8,500 men; that they were hungry and wet, and half-famished;

that they belonged to a force which was generally "out of bed" four

nights out of seven; enfeebled by sickness, by severe toil; that among

them were men who had previously lain out for forty-eight hours in the

trenches at a stretch--it will be readily admitted that never was a more

brilliant contest maintained by our army.

Up to the beginning of this winter Commissary Filder deserved credit for

his exertions in supplying our army. No army, I believe, was ever so

well fed under such very exceptional circumstances. From Balaklava alone

came our daily bread; no man had up to this time been without his pound

of biscuit, his pound and a half or a pound of beef or mutton, his quota

of coffee, tea, rice, and sugar, his gill of excellent rum, for any one

day, excepting through his own neglect. We drew our hay, our corn, our

beef, our mutton, our biscuits, spirits, and necessaries of all kinds

from beyond sea. Eupatoria supplied us with cattle and sheep to a

moderate extent; but the commissariat of the army depended on sea

carriage. Nevertheless, large as were our advantages in the excellence

and regularity of the supply of food, the officers and men had to

undergo great privations.

The oldest soldiers never witnessed a campaign in which Generals were

obliged to live in tents in winter, and officers who passed their youth

in the Peninsular war, and had seen a good deal of fighting in various

parts of the world, were unanimous in declaring that they never knew of

a war in which the officers were exposed to such hardships. They landed

without anything, marched beside their men, slept by them, fought by

them, and died by them. They laid down at night in the clothes which

they wore during the day; many delicately-nurtured youths never changed

shirts or shoes for weeks together.

"Rank and fashion," under such circumstances, fell a prey to parasitical

invasion--an evil to which the other incidents of roughing it are of

little moment. The officers were in rags. Guardsmen, who were "the best

style of men" in the Parks, turned out in coats and trousers and boots

all seams and patches, mended with more vigour than neatness, and our

smartest cavalry men were models of ingenious sewing and stitching. The

men could not grumble at old coats, boots, or shoes when they saw their

officers no better off than themselves. We had "soldiering with the

gilding off," and many a young gentleman would be cured of his love of

arms if he could but have had one day's experience. Fortunate it is for

us that we have youth on which we can rely, and that there are in

England men "who delight in war," who will be ever ready to incur

privation and danger at her summons. As to young ladies suffering from

"scarlet fever,"--who are thinking of heroes and warriors, singing of

"crowning conquerors' brows with flowers," and wishing for "Arab steeds

and falchions bright"--if they could but for one instant have stood

beside me, and gazed into one of the pits where some thirty "clods of

the valley," decked with scarlet and blue, with lace and broidery, were

lying side by side, staring up at heaven with their sightless orbs, as

they were about to be consigned to the worm, they would have joined in

prayer for the advent of that day--if come it ever may--when war shall

be no more, and when the shedding of blood shall cease. After Inkerman

there was a period of collapse in the army. The siege languished. Our

strength was wasting away--men's spirits failed--the future looked dark

and uncertain.

It happened that we had a forewarning of what might be expected. On

Friday, the 10th of November, just four days ere the fatal catastrophe

which caused such disasters occurred, I was on board the _Jason_ Captain

Lane, which happened to be lying outside, and as it came on to blow, I

could not return to the shore or get to the camp that evening. The ship

was a noble steamer, well manned and ably commanded, but ere midnight I

would have given a good deal to have been on land; for the gale setting

right into the bay, raised a high wild sea, which rushed up the

precipices in masses of water and foam, astonishing by their force and

fury; and the strain on the cable was so great that the captain had to

ease it off by steaming gently a-head against the wind. The luckless

_Prince_, which had lost two anchors and cables on bringing up a day or

two before, was riding near the _Agamemnon_, and adopted the same

expedient; and, of the numerous vessels outside, and which in so short a

time afterwards were dashed into fragments against those cruel rocks,

the aspect of which was calculated to thrill the heart of the boldest

seaman with horror, there were few which did not drag their anchors and

draw towards the iron coast which lowered with death on its brow upon

us. Guns of distress boomed through the storm, and flashes of musketry

pointed out for a moment a helpless transport which seemed tossing in

the very centre of the creaming foam of those stupendous breakers, the

like of which I never beheld, except once, when I saw the Atlantic

running riot against the cliffs of Moher. But the gale soon

moderated--for that once--and wind and sea went down long before

morning. However, Sir Edmund Lyons evidently did not like his berth, for

the _Agamemnon_ went round to Kamiesch on Sunday morning, and ordered

the _Firebrand_, which was lying outside, to go up to the fleet at the

Katcha. As to the _Prince_, and the luckless transports, they were

allowed, nay, ordered, to stand outside till the hurricane rushed upon

them.

On the 14th of November came a new calamity--the hurricane.

I had been in a listless state between waking and sleeping, listening to

the pelting of the rain against the fluttering canvas of the tent, or

dodging the streams of water which flowed underneath it, saturating

blankets, and collecting on the mackintosh sheet in pools, when

gradually I became aware that the sound of the rain and the noise of its

heavy beating on the earth had been swallowed up by the roar of the

wind, and by the flapping of tents outside. Presently the sides of the

canvas, tucked in under big stones, began to rise, permitting the wind

to enter and drive sheets of rain right into one's face; the pegs

indicated painful indecision and want of firmness of purpose. The

glimpses afforded of the state of affairs outside were little calculated

to produce a spirit of resignation to the fate which threatened our

frail shelter. The ground had lost solidity. Mud--nothing but

mud--flying before the wind and drifting as though it were rain, covered

the face of the earth.

The storm-fiend was coming, terrible and strong as when he smote the

bark of the Ancient Mariner. The pole of the tent bent like a

salmon-rod; the canvas tugged at the ropes, the pegs yielded. A

startling crack! I looked at my companions, who seemed determined to

shut out all sound by piling as many clothes as they could over their

heads. A roar of wind again, the pole bent till the "crack" was heard

again. "Get up, Smith! Up with you; Eber! the tent is coming down!" The

Doctor rose from beneath his _tumulus_ of clothes. Now, if there was

anything in which the Doctor put confidence more than another, it was

his tent-pole; he believed that no power of Æolus could ever shake it.

There was normally a bend in the middle of it, but he used to argue, on

sound anatomical, mathematical, and physical principles, that the bend

was an improvement. He looked on the pole, as he looked at all things,

blandly, put his hand out, and shook it. "Why, man," said he,

reproachfully, "it's all right--_that_ pole would stand for ever," and

then he crouched and burrowed under his bed-clothes.

Scarcely had he given that last convulsive heave of the blankets which

indicates perfect comfort, when a harsh screaming sound, increasing in

vehemence as it approached, struck us with horror. As it neared us, we

heard the snapping of tent-poles and the sharp crack of timber. On it

came, "a mighty and a strong wind." It struck our tent! The pole broke

off short in the middle, as if it were glass; in an instant we were half

stifled by the folds of the wet canvas, which beat us about the head

with fury. Breathless and half blind, I struggled for the exit, and

crept out into the mud. Such a sight met the eye! The whole

head-quarters' camp was beaten flat to the earth, and the unhappy

occupants of tents were rushing in all directions in chase of their

effects, or holding on by the walls, as they strove to make their way to

the roofless barns and stables.

[Sidenote: A MIMIC VOLCANO.]

Three marquees stood the blast--General Estcourt, Sir John Burgoyne, and

Major Pakenham's. The General had built a cunning wall of stones around

his marquee, but ere noon it had fallen before the wind; the Major's

shared the same fate still earlier in the day. Next to our tent was the

marquee of Captain de Morel, aide-de-camp to Adjutant-General Estcourt,

fluttering on the ground, and, as I looked, the canvas was animated by

some internal convulsion--a mimic volcano appeared to be opening, its

folds assumed fantastic shapes, tossing wildly in the storm. The

phenomenon was accounted for by the apparition of the owner fighting his

way against the wind, which was bent on tearing his scanty covering from

his person; at last he succeeded in making a bolt of it and squattered

through the mud to the huts. Dr. Hall's tent was levelled, the principal

medical officer of the British army might be seen in an unusual state

of perturbation and nudity, seeking for his garments. Brigadier

Estcourt, with mien for once disturbed, held on, as sailors say, "like

grim Death to a backstay," by one of the shrouds of his marquee. Captain

Chetwode was tearing through the rain and dirt like a maniac after a

cap, which he fancied was his own, and which he found, after a desperate

run, to be his sergeant's. The air was filled with blankets, hats, great

coats, little coats, and even tables and chairs! Mackintoshes, quilts,

india-rubber tubs, bedclothes, sheets of tent-canvas went whirling like

leaves in the gale towards Sebastopol. The barns and commissariat sheds

were laid bare at once. The shingle roofs of the outhouses were torn

away and scattered over the camp; a portion of the roof of Lord Raglan's

house was carried off to join them.

Large arabas, or waggons, close to us were overturned; men and horses

were rolled over and over; the ambulance waggons were turned

topsy-turvy; a large table in Captain Chetwode's was whirled round and

round till the leaf flew off, and came to mother earth deprived of a leg

and seriously injured. The Marines and Rifles on the cliffs over

Balaklava lost everything; the storm hurled them across the bay, and the

men had to cling to the earth with all their might to avoid the same

fate.

Looking over towards the hill occupied by the Second Division, we saw

the ridges, the plains, and undulating tracts between the ravines, so

lately smiling in the autumn sun, with row after row of neat white

tents, bare and desolate, as black as ink. Right in front the camp of

the Chasseurs d'Afrique presented an appearance of equal desolation.

Their little _tentes d'abri_ were involved in the common ruin. One-half

of our cavalry horses broke loose. The French swarmed in all directions,

seeking for protection against the blast. Our men, more sullen and

resolute, stood in front of their levelled tents, or collected in groups

before their late camps. Woe to the Russians had they come on that day,

for, fiercer than the storm and stronger than all its rage, the British

soldier would have met and beaten their battalions. The cry was, all

throughout this dreadful day, "Let us get at the town; better far that

we should have a rush at the batteries and be done with it, than stand

here to be beaten by a storm."

[Sidenote: FLYING FROM THE STORM.]

Let the reader imagine the bleakest common in all England, the wettest

bog in all Ireland, or the dreariest muir in all Scotland, overhung by

leaden skies, and lashed by a tornado of sleet, snow, and rain--a few

broken stone walls and roofless huts dotting it here and there, roads

turned into torrents of mud and water, and then let him think of the

condition of men and horses in such a spot on a November morning,

suddenly deprived of their frail covering, and exposed to bitter cold,

with empty stomachs, without the remotest prospect of obtaining food or

shelter. Think of the men in the trenches, the covering parties, the

patrols, and outlying pickets and sentries, who had passed the night in

storm and darkness, and who returned to their camp only to find fires

out and tents gone. These were men on whose vigilance the safety of our

position depended, and many of whom had been for eight or ten hours in

the rain and cold, who dared not turn their backs for a moment, who

could not blink their eyes. These are trials which demand the exercise

of the soldier's highest qualities.

A benighted sportsman caught in a storm thinks he is much to be pitied,

as, fagged, drenched and hungry, he plods along the hillside, and

stumbles about in the dark towards some uncertain light; but he has no

enemy worse than the wind and rain to face, and in the first hut he

reaches repose and comfort await him. Our officers and soldiers, after a

day like this, had to descend to the trenches again at night, look out

for a crafty foe, to labour in the mire and ditches of the works; what

fortitude and high courage to do all this without a murmur, and to bear

such privations and hardships with unflinching resolution! But

meantime--for one's own experience gives the best idea of the suffering

of others--our tent was down; one by one we struggled out into the mud,

and left behind us all our little household gods, to fly to the lee of a

stone wall, behind which were cowering French and British of all arms

and conditions.

Major Blane was staggering from the ruins of his marquee, under a press

of greatcoat, bearing up for the shelter of Pakenham's hut. The hospital

tents were all down, the sick had to share the fate of the robust. On

turning towards the ridge on which the imposing wooden structures of the

French were erected, a few scattered planks alone met the eye. The

wounded of the 5th November, who to the number of several hundred were

in these buildings, had to bear the inclemency of the weather as well as

they could. Several succumbed to its effects. The guard tents were down,

the occupants huddled together under the side of a barn, their arms

covered with mud, lying where they had been thrown from the "pile" by

wind. The officers had fled to the commissariat stores near Lord

Raglan's, and there found partial shelter. Inside, overturned carts,

dead horses, and groups of shivering men--not a tent left standing. Mr.

Cookesley had to take refuge, and was no doubt glad to find it, amid

salt pork and rum puncheons.

With chattering teeth and shivering limbs each man looked at his

neighbour. Lord Raglan's house, with the smoke streaming from the

chimneys, and its white walls standing out freshly against the black

sky, was the "cynosure of neighbouring eyes." Lord Lucan, meditative as

Marius amid the ruins of Carthage, was sitting up to his knees in mud,

amid the wreck of his establishment. Lord Cardigan was sick on board his

yacht in the harbour of Balaklava. Sir George Brown was lying wounded on

board the _Agamemnon_, off Kamiesch Bay; Sir De Lacy Evans, sick and

shaken, was on board the _Sanspareil_, in Balaklava; General Bentinck,

wounded, was on board the _Caradoc_. The Duke of Cambridge was passing a

terrible time of it in the _Retribution_, in all the horrors of that

dreadful scene, off Balaklava. Pennefather, England, Campbell, Adams,

Buller--in fact all the generals and officers--were as badly off as the

meanest private.

The only persons near us whose tents weathered the gale were Mr.

Romaine, Deputy Judge-Advocate-General; Lieutenant-Colonel Dickson,

Artillery; and Captain Woodford. The first had pitched his tent

cunningly within the four walls of an outhouse, and secured it by guys

and subtle devices of stonework. They were hospitable spots, those

tents--oases in the desert of wretchedness; many a poor half-frozen

wanderer was indebted almost for life to the shelter they afforded.

While reading this, pray never lose sight of the fact, as you sit over

your snug coal-fires at home, that fuel was nearly all gone, and that

there were savage fights among the various domestics, even in fine

weather, for a bit of shaving or a fragment of brushwood. Never forget

that the storm raged from half-past six o'clock till late in the day,

with the fury of Azraël, vexing and buffeting every living thing, and

tearing to pieces all things inanimate. Now and then a cruel gleam of

sunshine shot out of a rift in the walls of clouds and rendered the

misery of the scene more striking. Gathered up under the old wall, we

could not but think with anxious hearts of our fleet of transports off

Balaklava and the Katcha. Alas! we had too much reason for our anxiety.

Towards ten o'clock matters were looking more hopeless and cheerless

than ever, when a welcome invitation came through the storm to go over

to the shelter of Romaine's tent. Our first duty was to aid the owner in

securing the pole with "a fish" of stout spars. Then we aided in passing

out a stay from the top of the pole to the wall in front. A cup of warm

tea was set before each of us, provided by some inscrutable chemistry,

and with excellent ration biscuit and some butter, a delicious meal, as

much needed as it was unexpected, was made by my friends and myself,

embittered only by the ever-recurring reflection, "God help us, what

will become of the poor fellows in the trenches?" And there we sat,

thinking and talking of the soldiers and of the fleet hour after hour,

while the wind and rain blew and fell with the full sense of the

calamity with which Providence was pleased to visit us.

Towards twelve o'clock the wind, which had been blowing from the

south-west, chopped round more to the west, and became colder. Sleet

fell first, and then a snow-storm, which clothed the desolate landscape

in white, till the tramp of men seamed it with trails of black mud. The

mountain ranges assumed their winter garb. French soldiers flocked about

head-quarters, and displayed their stock of sorrows to us. Their tents

were all down and blown away--no chance of recovering them; their bread

was "_tout mouillé et gâté_," their rations gone to the dogs. The

African soldiers seemed particularly miserable. Several of them were

found dead next morning outside our cavalry camp. Two men in the 7th

Fusileers, one man in the 33rd, and one man of the 2nd Battalion Rifle

Brigade, were found dead, "starved to death" by the cold. About forty

horses died, and many never recovered.

[Sidenote: A REFUGE FROM THE STORM.]

At two o'clock the wind went down a little, and the intervals between

the blasts of the gale became more frequent and longer. We took

advantage of one of these halcyon moments to trudge to the wreck of my

tent, and having borrowed another pole, with the aid of a few men we got

it up muddy and wet; but it was evident that no dependence could be

placed upon it; the floor was a puddle, and the bed and clothes

dripping. Towards evening there were many tents re-pitched along the

lines of our camps, though they were but sorry resting-places. It was

quite out of the question to sleep in them. What was to be done? There

was close at hand the barn used as a stable for the horses of the 8th

Hussars, and Eber Macraghten and I waded across the sea of nastiness

which lay between us and it, tacked against several gusts, fouled one or

two soldiers in a different course, grappled with walls and angles of

outhouses, nearly foundered in big horse-holes, bore sharply up round a

corner, and anchored at last in the stable.

What a scene it was! The officers of the escort were crouching over some

embers; along the walls were packed some thirty or forty horses and

ponies, shivering with cold, and kicking and biting with spite and bad

humour. The Hussars, in their long cloaks, stood looking on the flakes

of snow, which drifted in at the doorway or through the extensive

apertures in the shingle roof. Soldiers of different regiments crowded

about the warm corners, and Frenchmen of all arms, and a few Turks,

joined in the brotherhood of misery, lighted their pipes at the scanty

fire, and sat close for mutual comfort. The wind blew savagely through

the roof, and through chinks in the mud walls and window-holes. The

building was a mere shell, as dark as pitch, and smelt as it ought to

do--an honest, unmistakeable stable--improved by a dense pack of moist

and mouldy soldiers. And yet it seemed to us a palace! Life and joy were

inside, though melancholy Frenchmen would insist on being pathetic over

their own miseries--and, indeed, they were many and great--and after a

time the eye made out the figures of men huddled up in blankets, lying

along the wall. They were the sick, who had been in the hospital

marquee, and who now lay moaning and sighing in the cold; but our men

were kind to them, as they are always to the distressed, and not a pang

of pain did they feel which care or consideration could dissipate.

A staff officer, Colonel Wetherall, dripping with rain, came in to see

if he could get any shelter for draughts of the 33rd and 41st Regiments,

which had just been landed at Kamiesch, but he soon ascertained the

hopelessness of his mission so far as our quarters were concerned. The

men were packed into another shed, "like herrings in a barrel." Having

told us, "There is terrible news from Balaklava--seven vessels lost, and

a number on shore at the Katcha," and thus made us more gloomy than

ever, the officer went on his way, as well as he could, to look after

his draughts. In the course of an hour an orderly was sent off to

Balaklava with dispatches from head-quarters; but, after being absent

for three-quarters of an hour, the man returned, fatigued and beaten, to

say he could not get his horse to face the storm. In fact, it would have

been all but impossible for man or beast to have made headway through

the hurricane.

We sat in the dark till night set in--not a soul could stir out. Nothing

could be heard but the howling of the wind, the yelping of wild dogs

driven into the enclosures, and the shrill neighings of terrified

horses. At length a candle-end was stuck into a horn lantern, to keep

it from the wind--a bit of ration pork and some rashers of ham, done

over the wood fire, furnished an excellent dinner, which was followed by

a glass or horn of hot water and rum--then a pipe, and as it was cold

and comfortless, we got to bed--a heap of hay on the stable floor,

covered with our clothes, and thrown close to the heels of a playful

grey mare, who had strong antipathies to her neighbours, a mule and an

Arab horse, and spent the night in attempting to kick in their ribs.

Amid smells, and with incidents impossible to describe or allude to more

nearly, we went to sleep in spite of a dispute between an Irish sergeant

of Hussars and a Yorkshire corporal of Dragoons as to the comparative

merits of light and heavy cavalry, with digressions respecting the

capacity of English and Irish horseflesh, which, by the last we heard of

them, seemed likely to be decided by a trial of physical strength on the

part of the disputants.

Throughout the day there had been very little firing from the Russian

batteries--towards evening all was silent except the storm. In the

middle of the night, however, we were all awoke by one of the most

tremendous cannonades we had ever heard, and, after a time, the report

of a rolling fire of musketry was borne upon the wind. Looking eagerly

in the direction of the sound, we saw the flashes of the cannon through

the chinks in the roof, each distinct by itself, just as a flash of

lightning is seen in all its length and breadth through a crevice in a

window shutter. It was a sortie on the French lines. The cannonade

lasted for half-an-hour, and gradually waxed fainter. In the morning we

heard that the Russians had been received with an energy which quickly

made them fly to the cover of their guns.

CHAPTER II.

A change for the better--Visit to Balaklava--Devastation--Affair of

Pickets--Newspaper Correspondents in the Crimea--Difficulties they

had to encounter--False Hopes--A smart affair--Death of Lieutenant

Tryon--Flattering Testimonies--Want of Generals--Attack on

Oupatoria--Affair between the Chasseurs de Vincennes and the

Russian Riflemen--The Ovens--A Deserter's Story--Movements of the

Russians--A Reconnaissance--Suffering caused by hard work and

scarcity of supplies--Warnings--Cholera--Dreadful Scenes amongst

the Turks in Balaklava.

[Sidenote: BALAKLAVA AFTER THE STORM.]

With the morning of the 15th of November, came a bright cold sky, and

our men, though ankle deep in mud cheered up when they beheld the sun

once more. The peaks of the hills and mountain sides were covered with

snow. As rumours of great disasters reached us from Balaklava, I after

breakfasting in my stable, made my way there as well as I could. The

roads were mere quagmires. Another day's rain would have rendered them

utterly impassable, and only for swimming or navigation. Dead horses and

cattle were scattered all over the country, and here and there a sad

little procession, charged with the burden of some inanimate body, might

be seen wending its way slowly towards the hospital marquees, which had

been again pitched.

In coming by the French lines I observed that the whole of the troops

were turned out, and were moving about and wheeling in column to keep

their blood warm. They had just been mustered, and it was gratifying to

learn that the rumours respecting lost men were greatly exaggerated. Our

men were engaged in trenching and clearing away mud.

The Russians in the valley were very active, and judging from the state

of the ground and the number of loose horses, they must have been very

miserable also.

Turning down by Captain Powell's battery, where the sailors were getting

their arms in order, I worked through ammunition mules and straggling

artillery-wagons towards the town. Balaklava was below--its waters

thronged with shipping--not a ripple on their surface. It was almost

impossible to believe that but twelve hours before ships were dragging

their anchors, drifting, running aground,, and smashing each other to

pieces in that placid loch. The whitewashed houses in the distance were

as clean-looking as ever, and the old ruined fortress on the crags above

frowned upon the sea, and reared its walls and towers aloft, uninjured

by the storm.

On approaching the town, however, the signs of the tempest of the day

before grew and increased at every step. At the narrow neck of the

harbour, high and dry, three large boats were lying, driven inland

several yards; the shores were lined with trusses of compressed hay

which had floated out of the wrecks outside the harbour, and pieces of

timber, beams of wood, masts and spars, formed natural rafts, which were

stranded on the beach or floated about among the shipping. The old tree

which stood near the guard-house at the entrance to the town was torn

up, and in its fall had crushed the house into ruin. The soldiers of the

guard were doing their best to make themselves comfortable within the

walls. The fall of this tree, which had seen many winters, coupled with

the fact that the verandahs and balconies of the houses and a row of

very fine acacia trees on the beach were blown down, corroborate the

statement so generally made by the inhabitants, that they had never seen

or heard of such a hurricane in their life time, although there was a

tradition among some that once in thirty or forty years such visitations

occurred along this coast. The _City of London_, Captain Cargill, was

the only vessel which succeeded in getting out to sea and gaining a good

offing during the hurricane of the 14th, and the Captain told me, in all

his experience (and as an old Aberdeen master, he has passed some

anxious hours at sea) he never knew so violent a gale.

There was an affair of pickets during the night of the 15th between the

French and the Russians, in which a few men were wounded on both sides,

and which was finished by the retreat of the Russians to their main

body. This took place in the valley of Balaklava, and its most

disagreeable result (to those not engaged) was to waken up and keep

awake every person in the town for a couple of hours.

During this winter newspaper correspondents in the Crimea were placed in

a rather difficult position. In common with generals and chiefs, and

men-at-arms, they wrote home accounts of all we were doing to take

Sebastopol, and they joined in the prophetic cries of the leaders of the

host, that the fall of the city of the Czar--the centre and navel of his

power in those remote regions--would not be deferred for many hours

after our batteries had opened upon its defences. In all the inspiration

of this universal hope, these poor wretches, who clung to the mantles of

the military and engineering Elijahs, did not hesitate to communicate to

the world, through the columns of the English press, all they knew of

the grand operations which were to eventuate in the speedy fall of this

doomed city. They cheered the heart of England with details of the vast

armaments prepared against its towers and forts--of the position

occupied by her troops--the imbecility of the enemy's fire--of the range

of the guns so soon to be silenced--of the stations of our troops on

commanding sites; and they described with all their power the grandiose

operations which were being taken for the reduction of such a formidable

place of arms. They believed, in common with the leaders, whose

inspiration and whose faith were breathed through the ranks of our

soldiers, that the allied forces were to reduce Sebastopol long ere the

lines they penned could meet the expectant gaze of our fellow-countrymen

at home; and they stated, under that faith and in accordance with those

inspirations, that the operations of war of our armies were undertaken

with reference to certain points and with certain hopes of results, the

knowledge of which could not have proved of the smallest service to the

enemy once beaten out of their stronghold.

Contrary to these hopes and inspirations, in direct opposition to our

prophecies and to our belief, Sebastopol held out against the Allies;

and the intelligence conveyed in newspapers which we all thought we

should have read in the club-rooms of Sebastopol, was conveyed to the

generals of an army which defended its walls, and were given to the

leaders of an enemy whom we had considered would be impuissant and

defeated, while they were still powerful and unconquered. The enemy knew

that we had lost many men from sickness; that we had so many guns here

and so many guns there, that our head-quarters were in one place, our

principal powder magazines in another, that the camp of such a division

had been annoyed by their fire, and that the tents of another had

escaped injury from their shot, but it must be recollected that when

these details were written it was confidently declared that, ere the

news of the actual preliminaries of the siege could reach England, the

Allies would have entered Sebastopol, that their batteries would have

silenced the fire of their enemy, that the quarters of their generals

would have been within the _enceinte_ of the town, that our magazines

would have been transferred to its storehouses, and that our divisions

would have encamped within its walls.

[Sidenote: MISERABLE STATE OF OUR ARMY.]

How much knowledge of this sort the enemy gleaned through their spies,

or by actual observation, it is not needful to inquire; but undoubtedly,

without any largely speculative conjecture, it may be inferred that much

of the information conveyed to them, or said to have been conveyed to

them, by the English press, could have been ascertained through those

very ordinary channels of communication, the eye and ear, long ere our

letters had been forwarded to Sebastopol, and translated from English

_in usum superiorum_. However, it is quite evident that it was not

advisable to acquaint the enemy with our proceeding and movements during

a siege which promised to assume the proportions and to emulate the

length of those operations of a similar character in which hosts of men

conveyed by formidable armadas from distant shores, set down to

beleaguer some devoted fortress.

Although it might be dangerous to communicate facts likely to be of

service to the Russians, it was certainly hazardous to conceal the truth

from the English people. They must have known, sooner or later, that the

siege towards the end of November had been for many days practically

suspended, that our batteries were used up and silent, and that our army

was much exhausted by the effects of excessive labour and watching, to

which they have been so incessantly exposed. The Russians knew this soon

enough, for a silent battery--to hazard a bull--speaks for itself. The

relaxation of our fire was self-evident, but our army, though weakened

by sickness, was still equal to hold their position, and to inflict the

most signal chastisement upon any assailants who might venture to attack

it. In fact, I believe nothing would have so animated our men, deprived

as they were of cheering words and of the presence and exhortations of

their generals and destitute of all stimulating influences beyond those

of their undaunted spirits and glorious courage, as the prospect of

meeting the Russians outside their intrenchments. Rain kept pouring

down, the wind howled over the staggering tents--the trenches were

turned into dikes--in the tents the water was sometimes a foot deep--our

men had neither warm nor waterproof clothing--they were out for twelve

hours at a time in the trenches--they were plunged into the inevitable

miseries of a winter campaign. These were hard truths, which sooner or

later must have come to the ears of the people of England. It was right

they should know that the beggar who wandered the streets of London led

the life of a prince compared with the British soldiers who were

fighting for their country, and who, we were complacently assured by the

home authorities, were the best appointed army in Europe. They were fed,

indeed, but they had no shelter. The tents, so long exposed to the blaze

of a Bulgarian sun, and drenched by torrents of rain, let the wet

through "like sieves."

On the night of the 20th of November, three companies of the Rifle

Brigade (1st battalion), under Lieutenant Tryon, displayed coolness and

courage in a very smart affair. In the rocky ground in the ravine

towards the left of our left attack, about 300 Russian infantry

established themselves in some caverns and old stone huts used by

shepherds in days gone by, and annoyed the working and covering parties

of the French right attack and of our advances. These caves abounded in

all the ravines, and were formed by the decay of the softer portions of

the rock between the layers in which it is stratified. It was found

expedient to dislodge them, and at seven o'clock this party was sent to

drive the Russians out. The Rifles soon forced the enemy to retreat on

the main body, but when the Rifles had established themselves for the

night in the caves, they were assailed by a strong column. The action

ended in the complete repulse of the Russian columns, but we had to

deplore the loss of a most promising and excellent officer, Lieutenant

Tryon, who was killed by a shot in the head. Seven men killed and

eighteen or nineteen wounded.

General Canrobert issued a very flattering _ordre du jour_, in which he

especially eulogized the intrepid bravery and noble energy of the three

companies of the 1st battalion of our Rifle Brigade in the action, and

Lord Raglan mentioned it in very handsome terms.

Our army was in a strange condition now. The Light Division was

provisionally commanded by Codrington, Sir George Brown being on board

the "Agamemnon."

The Duke of Cambridge was on board the "Retribution." The Brigade of

Guards appeared to be commanded by Colonel Upton.

The Brigade of Highlanders was down at Kadikoi, under the command of Sir

Colin Campbell.

The Second Division was commanded by Brigadier-General Pennefather, in

the room of Sir De Lacy Evans, who was on his way home unwell.

The First Brigade was under the command of a Lieutenant-Colonel.

The Second Brigade was without a brigadier, General Adams' wound was

more serious than was supposed.

The Third Division was under the command of Sir Richard England, and was

fortunate in not being much engaged.

The Fourth Division, deprived of all its generals, was commanded by Sir

John Campbell.

Brigadier-General Lord Cardigan was unable to leave his yacht. The

Artillery was under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Dacres during the

absence of Lieutenant-Colonel Gambier, who was wounded, after having

succeeded to the command left vacant by the death of Strangways.

Our cattle at Eupatoria were by no means in high condition; they

perished from hunger. It may readily be guessed that joints from the

survivors were scarcely in such a condition as would justify the least

conscientious of London waiters describing them as being in "prime cut."

[Sidenote: COMPANION OF THE GRAND DUKE.]

Early in November a body of Russian cavalry appeared before Eupatoria to

attack our stock, and a French colonel, with eighty horse, pushed

forward to save his beeves and mutton from the gripe of the hungry

Cossacks. The Russian cavalry always screen field guns, and on this

occasion, as at the Bouljanak, plumped round shot and shell into the

Frenchmen. The colonel was dismounted, seven men were killed or wounded,

and, as the French were retiring, a polk of Lancers made a dash at

them. Our rocket battery was, however, near at hand, and one of these

fiery abominations rushed right through their ranks. The horses reared,

and the Lancers "bolted," leaving several dead upon the field.

On the 24th there was a brisk affair between the French and the Russians

in front of the Flagstaff Battery, and the Russians dispelled all myths

about their want of powder and ball by a most tremendous cannonade.

Assaults and counter-assaults continued amid a furious fire, which

lighted up the skies with sheets of flame from nine o'clock at night

till nearly four in the morning. The French at one time actually

penetrated behind the outer intrenchments, and established themselves

for a time within the _enceinte_, but as there was no preparation made

for a general assault, they eventually withdrew.

The struggle between French and Russians was renewed on the night of the

25th. The great bone of contention, in addition to the Ovens, was the

mud fort at the Quarantine Battery, of which the French had got

possession, though, truth to tell, it did not benefit their position

very materially.

A Polish deserter came in on the 27th with a strange story. He said that

on the 25th the Grand Duke Michael reviewed a strong force of Russians

(as he stated, of 12,000 men, but no reliance can be placed on the

assertions of men of this class with regard to the numbers of a force),

and that he addressed them in a spirited speech, in which he appealed to

them to drive the heretics out of Balaklava into the sea. At the

conclusion of his harangue the Grand Duke distributed two silver roubles

to each private.

A _reconnaissance_ of our lines was made on the 30th of November by

Grand Duke Michael and a very large staff, among whom our knowing people

said they could see Prince Menschikoff and General Liprandi. The Grand

Duke was recognisable by the profound respect paid to him--wherever he

went hats were taken off and heads uncovered--and by the presence of a

white dog which always accompanies him. While making his inspection, the

enormous telescope through which he gazed was propped upon muskets and

bayonets, and he made frequent references to a very large chart on a

portable table. The Grand Duke rode back up the hills towards Tchergoun.

As the year waned and winter began to close in upon us, the army

suffered greatly; worn out by night-work, by vigil in rain and storm, by

hard labour in the trenches, they found themselves suddenly reduced to

short allowance, and the excellent and ample rations they had been in

the habit of receiving cut off or miserably reduced. For nine days, with

very few exceptions, no issue of tea, coffee, or sugar, to the troops

took place. These, however, are luxuries--not the necessaries of

military life. The direct cause of this scarcity was the condition of

the country, which caused a difficulty in getting food from Balaklava,

and there was besides a want of supplies in the commissariat magazines.

But though there was a cause, there was no excuse for the privations to

which the men were exposed. We were all told that when the bad weather

set in, the country roads would be impassable. The fine weather was

allowed to go by, and the roads were left as the Tartar carts had made

them, though the whole face of the country was covered thickly with

small stones which seem expressly intended for road metal. As I

understood, it was suggested by the officers of the Commissariat

Department that they should be allowed to form depôts of food, corn, and

forage, as a kind of reserve at the head-quarters at the different

divisions; but their carts were, after a few days' work in forming those

depôts, taken for the siege operations, and were employed in carrying

ammunition to the trenches. Consequently, the magazines at headquarters

were small, and were speedily exhausted when the daily supplies from

Balaklava could no longer be procured. The food, corn, and hay were

stowed in sailing vessels outside the harbour, where they had to ride in

thirty or forty fathoms of water on a rocky bottom, with a terrible

coast of cliff of 1,200 feet in height stretching around the bay: it was

notorious that the place was subject to violent storms of wind.

As to the town, words could not describe its filth, its horrors, its

hospitals, its burials, its dead and dying Turks, its crowded lanes, its

noisome sheds, its beastly purlieus, or its decay. All the pictures ever

drawn of plague and pestilence, from the work of the inspired writer who

chronicled the woes of infidel Egypt, down to the narratives of

Boccacio, De Foe, or Moltke, fall short of individual "bits" of disease

and death, which any one might see in half-a-dozen places during half an

hour's walk in Balaklava. In spite of all our efforts the dying Turks

made of every lane and street a _cloaca_, and the forms of human

suffering which met the eye at every turn, and once were wont to shock

us, ceased to attract even passing attention. By raising up the piece of

matting or coarse rug which hung across the doorway of some miserable

house, from within which you heard wailings and cries of pain and

prayers to the Prophet, you saw in one spot and in one instant a mass of

accumulated woes that would serve you with nightmares for a lifetime.

The dead, laid as they died, were side by side with the living. The

commonest accessories were wanting; there was not the least attention

paid to decency or cleanliness--the stench was appalling--the foetid

air could barely struggle out to taint the atmosphere, through the

chinks in the walls and roofs. The sick appeared to be tended by the

sick, and the dying by the dying.

[Sidenote: MOVEMENTS IN RUSSIAN CAMP.]

CHAPTER III.

A False Alarm--The Russians retire--Skirmishes--Orders to turn

out--The French and English make a Reconnaissance in force--A Brush

with the Cavalry--Reinforcements--Winter--System of "Requisition,"

"Orders," and "Memos"--Our friends the

Zouaves--Grievances--Christmas and New Year--The Times

Commissioner--Arrival of Omar Pasha--First Week in January--Trying

Duty of the Fatigue Parties--Terrible State of the Trenches--Louis

Napoleon's Presents to the French Army--The Siege--Russian

Prospects.

At twelve o'clock, on the night of the 5th of December, there was a

great stir down in the valley of Balaklava. The hoarse hum of men was

heard by the pickets, and they reported the circumstance to the officers

of the French regiments on the heights. Lights were seen moving about in

the redoubts occupied by the Russians. It was supposed that the enemy

had received reinforcements, or were about to make a dash at our

position before Balaklava. The Hospital Guards and the invalid battalion

were turned out, the French shrouded in their capotes grimly waited in

their lines the first decisive movement of the enemy. The night was

cold, but not clear; after a time the noise of wheels and the tramp of

men ceased, and the alarm was over. Ere morning, however, we knew the

cause. About five o'clock A.M. an outburst of flame from the redoubts in

which the Russians had hutted themselves illuminated the sky, and at the

same time the fire broke out in Komara. When morning came, the Russians

were visible in much-diminished numbers on the higher plateaux of the

hills near Tchorgoun and Komara. The faint rays of the morning sun

played on the bayonets of another portion of the force as they wound up

the road towards Mackenzie's farm, and passed through the wood over the

right bank of the Tchernaya. They had abandoned the position they had

won on 25th October.

With the exception of the advance of the army in the rear on the 25th

October, and the grand sortie on the 5th of November, no movement of any

moment was attempted during the latter part of 1854 by the Russians to

raise the siege.

On the 20th of December, the Russians succeeded in penetrating our lines

where they were in contract with the French. In order to deceive the

sentries they commanded in French, which _ruse_ was successful; they

killed and wounded sixteen men--among the latter Major Moller, of the

50th--and carried away eleven men and two officers, Captain Frampton and

Lieutenant Clarke, as prisoners, but were driven back by the 34th

regiment before they could do any further mischief, not without

inflicting a loss.

On the 29th December, Sir Colin Campbell made a reconnaissance with a

part of his force the 79th and Rifle Brigade. Soon after seven o'clock

the French proceeded towards the hills recently occupied by the

Russians, with General Bosquet, the Rifles and Highlanders turning to

the right and covering the flank of the expedition. As the force

approached Komara, the Cossack vedettes came in sight, retiring slowly

from the village, which has been in a ruinous state since the storm of

the 14th of November. The vedettes fell back on a strong body of Lancers

and Light Cavalry, which seemed disposed to await the shock of the

French Chasseurs.

Cavalry skirmishers exchanged a few shots before they fell in with their

respective squadrons, and when the French had arrived within about 800

yards, they broke from a trot into a gallop, and dashed right at the

Russian cavalry. The latter met the shock, but made no attempt to charge

the French, who broke them in an instant, and chased them back on the

infantry, who were assembled in three small bodies on the hills, close

to the village of Tchorgoun. As the French approached Tchorgoun, they

were received with a brisk fire of shot and shell from some

field-pieces, to which their guns were unable to reply; but they pushed

within range, and the Russians again retired, and abandoned the village

of Tchorgoun to our allies, as well as the line of cantonments and huts

which they had constructed subsequent to Liprandi's advance in October.

The object was to beat up the Russian position and to ascertain the

strength of the enemy. Our allies at once burst into the village, but

the Cossacks had been there too long to leave anything to plunder, and

so the French set it on fire. The whole cantonment was in a blaze, while

volumes of white smoke curling up into the air, and spreading in sheets

along the crests of the hills, indicated the destruction of the village,

and informed the Russians that they could no longer hope for snug

quarters there. The huts were very commodious and comfortable. Each was

capable of containing twenty or thirty men, and held an oven for baking,

which also warmed the room at the end. The object of the

_reconnaissance_ having been accomplished, the expedition was halted,

and the men set to work at once to avail themselves of the abundance of

wood along the hill-sides, and to make enormous fires, which almost

obscured the retreat of the Russians. It was ascertained that they did

not number more than 5000 or 6000 men. The French remained upon the

ground till it was almost dark, and then returned to their camp. The

French lost two officers, wounded (one since dead) and about twenty men

put _hors de combat_. They took seventeen of the Russian cavalry and a

few infantry prisoners.

[Sidenote: ACTIVITY AND UBIQUITY OF THE ZOUAVES.]

We were cursed by a system of "requisitions," "orders," and "memos,"

which was enough to depress an army of scriveners, and our captains,

theoretically, had almost as much work to do with pen and paper as if

they had been special correspondents or bankers' clerks; that is, they

ought to have had as much to do, but, thanks to the realities of war,

they had no bookkeeping; their accounts being lost, and the captain who

once had forty or fifty pounds' weight of books and papers to carry, had

not so much as a penny memorandum-book. This fact alone showed the

absurdity of our arrangements. In peace, when these accounts were of

comparatively little importance, we had plenty and too much of checks

and returns, but in time of war the very first thing our army did was to

leave all its stationery on board the steamer that carried it to the

scene of action.

The cold was developing itself, and efforts to guard against it were

attended with mischief. Captain Swinton, the Royal Artillery, was

suffocated by the fumes of charcoal from a stove, several officers were

half-killed by carbonic acid gas.

We were obliged to apply to the French to place guards over the line of

march, for the instant a cart with provisions or spirits broke down it

was plundered by our active friends the Zouaves, who really seemed to

have the gift of ubiquity. Let an araba once stick, or break a wheel or

an axle, and the Zouaves sniffed it out just as vultures detect carrion;

in a moment barrels and casks were broken open, the bags of bread were

ripped up, the contents were distributed, and the commissary officer,

who had gone to seek for help and assistance, on his return found only

the tires of the wheels and a few splinters of wood left, for our

indefatigable foragers completed their work most effectually, and

carried off the cart, body and boxes, to serve as firewood.

They were splendid fellows--our friends the Zouaves--always gay,

healthy, and well fed; they carried loads for us, drank for us, ate for

us, baked for us, foraged for us, and built our huts for us, and all on

the cheapest and most economical terms. But there were some few

degenerate wretches who grumbled even among this _corps d'élite_. An

officer commanding a fatigue party, who happened to fall in with a party

of Zouaves engaged in a similar duty, brought them all off to the

canteen to give them a dram after their day's labour. While he was in

the tent a warrior with a splendid face for a grievance came in and

joined in the conversation, and our friend, seeing he was not a private,

but that he had a chatty talkative aspect, combined with an air of rank,

began to talk of the privations to which the allied armies were exposed.

This was evidently our ally's _champ de bataille_. He at once threw

himself into an attitude which would have brought down the pit and

galleries of the Porte St. Martin to a certainty, and, in a tone which

no words can describe, working himself up by degrees to the grand

climax, and attuning his body to every nice modulation of phrase and

accent, he plunged into his proper woes. Our gallant friend had been

expatiating on the various disagreeables of camp life in the Crimea in

winter time: "C'est vrai!" quoth he, "mon ami! En effet, nous éprouvons

beaucoup de misère!" The idea of any one suffering misery except himself

seemed to the Zouave too preposterous not to be disposed of at once.

"Mais, mon lieutenant," cried he, "regardez moi---- moi! pr-r-r-r-remier

basson 3me Zouaves! élève du Conservatoire de Paris! après avoir

sacrificé vingt ans de ma vie pour acquérir un talent--pour

me--r-r-ren-dr-r-re agréable a la société--me voici! (with extended

arms, and legs) me voici--forcé d'arracher du bois de la terre (with

terrible earnestness and sense of indignity), pour me faire de la

soupe!"

At the close of the year there were 3500 sick in the British camp before

Sebastopol, and it was not too much to say that their illness had, for

the most part, been caused by hard work in bad weather, and by exposure

to wet without any adequate protection. Think of a tent pitched, as it

were, at the bottom of a marsh, into which some twelve or fourteen

miserable creatures, drenched to the skin, had to creep for shelter

after twelve hours of vigil in a trench like a canal, and then reflect

what state these poor fellows must have been in at the end of a night

and day spent in such _shelter_, huddled together without any change of

clothing, and lying packed up as close as they could be stowed in

saturated blankets. But why were they in tents? Where were the huts

which had been sent out to them? The huts were on board ships in the

harbour of Balaklava. Some of these huts, of which we heard so much,

were floating about the beach; others had been landed, and now and then

I met a wretched pony, knee-deep in mud, struggling on beneath the

weight of two thin deal planks, a small portion of one of these huts,

which were most probably converted into firewood after lying for some

time in the camp, or turned into stabling for officers' horses when

enough of _disjecta membra_ had been collected. Had central depôts been

established, as Mr. Filder proposed, while the fine weather lasted,

much, if not all, of the misery and suffering of the men and of the loss

of horses would have been averted.

It may be true that the enemy were suffering still more than our own

men, but the calculation of equal losses on the part of England and on

the part of Russia in the article of soldiery, cannot be regarded as an

ingredient in the consideration of our position. Our force was deprived

of about 100 men every twenty-four hours. There were between 7000 and

8000 men sick, wounded, and convalescent in the hospitals on the

Bosphorus. The 39th Regiment before it had landed was provided with some

protection against the severity of the weather--not by government, but

by _The Times_ Commissioner at Scutari: and I heard from the best

authority that the bounty of the subscribers to the fund intrusted to

_The Times_ for distribution was not only well bestowed to the men, but

that the officers of the regiments had evinced the greatest satisfaction

at the comfort.

When the various articles sent up by _The Times_ Commissioner arrived at

the camp, there was a rush made to get them by the regimental medical

officers, and no false delicacy was evinced by them in availing

themselves of the luxuries and necessaries placed at their disposal, and

of which they had been in so much need.

We had rather a dreary Christmas. Where were the offerings of our kind

country-men and country-women, and the donations from our ducal parks?

The fat bucks which had exhausted the conservative principles of a

Gunter; the potted meats, which covered the decks and filled the holds

of adventurous yachts; the worsted devices which had employed the

fingers and emptied the crotchet-boxes of fair sympathizers at home?

[Sidenote: CRAVING OF THE ARMY FOR ARDENT SPIRITS.]

Omar Pasha arrived on the 4th of January, on board the "Inflexible," and

landed at the Ordnance-wharf. A council of war?--was held, at which the

French General-in-Chief, the French Admiral, Sir E. Lyons, and Sir John

Burgoyne, were present.

Next day, 1600 French were sent down to Balaklava to help us in carrying

up provisions and ammunition. Each man received from our commissariat a

ration of rum and biscuits.

The scenery of our camping ground and of the adjacent country assumed a

wintry aspect. The lofty abrupt peaks and sharp ridges of the mountains

which closed up the valley of Balaklava were covered with snow. On the

tops of the distant mounds black figures, which appeared of enormous

size, denoted the stations of the enemy's pickets and advanced posts.

The 63rd Regiment had only seven men fit for duty; the 46th had only

thirty on the 7th. A strong company of the 90th was reduced in a week to

fourteen file, and that regiment lost fifty men in a fortnight. The

Scots Fusileer Guards, who had 1562 men, mustered 210 on parade. Other

regiments suffered in like proportion. The men sought after ardent

spirits with great avidity, and in carrying out rum to camp broached the

kegs when the eye of the officer in charge was off them.

The duty of the fatigue parties was, indeed, very trying. A cask of rum,

biscuit, or beef was slung from a stout pole between two men, and then

they went off on a tramp of about five miles from the commissariat

stores at Balaklava to head-quarters. As I was coming in from the front

one day, I met a lad who could not long have joined in charge of a party

of the 38th Regiment. He had taken the place of a tired man, and

struggled along under his load, while the man at the other end of the

pole exhausted the little breath he had left in appeals to his comrades.

"Boys! boys! won't you come and relieve the young officer?" Horses could

not do this work, for they could not keep their legs.