THE BOMBARDMENT OF BOMARSUND
[Sidenote: 1854.]
Before Bomarsund was regularly invested there were places where our
wardroom officers could land by twos and threes for exercise, when
it was not worth while for the Russian Circular Towers to expend
ammunition.
On one occasion, when the officers had taken my nephew, Harry
Stephenson, a round shot buried itself within a few yards of them. They
dispersed in haste, all but young Harry, who picked up a pointed stick
and commenced digging at his first trophy.
The _St. Jean d’Acre_ and the _Cumberland_ were, with many others,
at Ledsund, five-and-twenty miles from Bomarsund; but Seymour and I
thought, for the good of the Service, we should be eye-witnesses of the
preparations. The troops left for Bomarsund on the afternoon of the
7th. Late in the evening Henry Seymour and I started in my gig, sailing
or pulling easily.
[Sidenote: Aug. 8.]
In a thick fog, about 3 A.M., we landed on a wooden pier to cook
an early coffee. While this was going on we heard _three_ heavy
explosions. Seymour thought it must be the Admirals’ daylight guns. But
there were only two Admirals!
Although in a dense fog, with our boat’s compass we knew pretty well
where we ought to be, and found ourselves alongside the _Blenheim_, 60,
Captain Hon. Fred Pelham, who gave us all the information we required.
The ball was to open at daylight, by the French steamer _Phlegethon_
and English frigate _Amphion_, who had ascertained the exact range of
the Russian fort that was intended to destroy any force that might
attempt a landing.
After a while we found ourselves close to the very fort on which the
frigates were to open fire. Neither seeing anything nor hearing the
slightest noise we entered by one of the embrasures. It was deserted,
but before doing so the Russians had attempted to burst the guns, and
had only partially succeeded. One gun had the muzzle blown off; one
only had completely burst; a third had gone off, but half-buried itself
in the earth. There were in all five heavy eight-inch guns. These three
explosions were what Seymour and myself had heard while drinking our
coffee on the wooden pier.
It was now about the appointed time that the frigates were to open fire
on the fort we were in; they had taken the exact range the previous
evening. We lay off, the fog as dense as ever. We were none too soon.
The _Amphion_ and _Phlegethon_ fired shell, which, bursting in the
fort, had the appearance in the fog of a return fire.
After a while there was a lull. Presently we heard distant cheering.
This was from the crews coming to take possession of the fort they
had silenced. The fog continued, and it was high time we took care of
ourselves. On the south-eastern end of the anchorage, in Lumpar Bay,
was the _Odin_ steamer, 16 guns, commanded by our young old friend,
Frank Scott. Here we were well taken care of and jolly, narrating our
adventures. Wilfrid Seymour had joined us from the _Sphynx_.
It was between 2 and 3 P.M. when the officer of the watch reported the
Admiral coming. What were we to do? Frank Scott had a lumber cabin in
which he kept spare furniture when clear for action. In this we hid.
When he and Sir Charles had sat down to the usual grog, the Chief said
to Scott:--“That was a dom’d fine thing of the frigates this morning.”
Scott replied, without thinking, “Why, I hear there was no one in the
fort”! To which the old Chief replied, “Who has been telling you a
dom’d lie? Why, Chaads saw, from the masthead, at least five hundred
soldiers rush out”!
On the morning of the 10th the disembarkation of the guns commenced.
Each ship had been ordered to prepare two sledges, made according to a
pattern by Captain Ramsay of the _Hogue_.
Amongst the officers so employed was H.S.H. Prince Victor of Hohenlohe,
mate of the _Cumberland_, who was put in charge of a 12-pounder
field-piece, with which he kept one of the circular forts employed. He
was very happy, pounding away at the fort, all the while puffing at his
pet meerschaum “peep.”
It is not my intention to trouble my readers with a sailor’s opinion
of the capture of Bomarsund. Experienced officers, both French and
English, worked well together.
I was like the boy that was sent to a French school, who, on inquiry of
his parents when he got home for the holidays, said, “We had nothing
to do, and we did it.” But with my friend Henry Seymour, who had his
younger brother (now General Lord William Seymour, in command of our
troops in Canada), we had great fun; with a tent between us and our
ships’ gigs we really enjoyed ourselves. On one occasion, when camped
under a hill, the Russian shot passed over our heads into the country
beyond. The next morning Henry felt a little nervous on account of the
young brother, and proposed shifting our tent nearer the hill; the
change was only just completed, when a round shot dropped into the site
of our former position.
[Illustration: _Circular Fort, Bomarsund._]