BATTLE OF THE ALMA.
On the night of the 19th, we were told that on the morrow we were
to fight a severe engagement. We were aware that the Russians were
strongly entrenched upon the Alma, and that we would have to carry
that position or perish in the attempt. Many things arose in my mind
as I thought on the morrow--that morrow which was to decide which
should win the day. As I sat down to rest my weary limbs on this
night before the battle, thought was busy within me--thoughts of
friends and thoughts of home--of my childhood’s early days, when
the frowns of the world did not darken my brow. This was indeed a
time for reflection! But I was resolved; the die was cast; and the
spirit of my forefathers aroused me from my reverie. All was silent
as the grave. I slept soundly, and awoke early on the morning of the
ever-memorable 20th of September. More than a thousand bugles sounded
the rouse. We all stood to our arms; the sun in its splendour shining
upon us, but shining, alas! upon some who were never more to behold
it. Many a gallant fellow took that morning his farewell of that sun
which he would never see setting.
We marched along for upwards of two hours without halting, and were
by this time getting very close to the Alma, being distant from
it only about four miles. We halted for a short time, killed some
cattle, and gave an allowance to each man. Then the bugles sounded,
“Stand to your arms,” and in an instant all were ready to advance. We
could now see the enemy’s position in front of us, and the Russians
in their dark solid squares ready to receive us. We put ourselves
into order of battle, the French occupying a position on our right,
and then advanced, with our bands playing, our colours flying, and
our bayonets shining in the morning sun. A more beautiful sight I
never beheld. When we got within range of the Russian guns, we got
orders to “Halt; ball cartridge; load!” Now we were to be at it
in right earnest. It was now close upon noon. The Russians having
commenced a heavy fire, set a village right in front of us in a
blaze. Still, we were nothing daunted, but took things very coolly.
At last, the word “Advance” was given. It was then that the Russian
batteries opened a murderous fire upon us with their heavy guns,
grape and cannister flying around us in all directions. Still we kept
on, never flinching--“Onward to victory!” being our watchword. Our
countrymen falling on our right and left roused us to daring; and
We scrambled through the clustering grapes,
Then came the battle’s brunt;
Our officers they cheered us on,
Our colours were in front;--
While fighting well, full many fell,
Alas! to rise no more,
On the battle-field of Alma,
Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.
Desperate was the struggle to obtain possession of the heights. At
last, we heard our chief cry out, “Charge, Highlanders, charge!” and
the war-note of the Camerons was heard high o’er the din of battle--
“Brave Cameron in his shock of steel
Dies like the offspring of Lochiel.”
The gallant Light Division, with their brave leader, General Sir
George Brown, fought desperately: it was a hand-to-hand conflict for
some time. The brave Guards, with their gallant leader, a Prince of
the Royal blood, proved themselves worthy of the sons of Caledonia.
The French they took the right that day,
And flanked the Russian line;
While full upon their front they saw
The British bayonet shine.
We gave three cheers that dulled their ears
Amidst the cannon’s roar;
And we drove them off the Alma
In September fifty-four.
Thus was fought and won the ever-memorable battle of the Alma--a
decided victory. The gallant Frenchmen shared along with us that
day’s renown. In less than three hours we made the enemy fly. The
Russians felt that they had men of a different stamp to contend with
than the poor Turks. They continued their retreat until they reached
the walls of their great stronghold, Sebastopol, and were themselves
the bearers of their own defeat.
We felt much fatigued after our day’s work, and we felt hungry and
thirsty. We found the Russians’ cooking utensils, and some firewood
which they had left, very useful to us. We lighted great fires, and
very soon satisfied our appetites, and quenched our thirst at the
little river, which, a short time before, was coloured by the blood
of the slain. Darkness came on; the weary were left alone to sleep,
and the wounded to die. There we lay, side by side with the dead and
dying!
The following day we had to remain and bury our dead; and I can
assure my readers that I felt more upon this occasion than on the day
of battle. The mind was calm and reflective now, when I looked upon
the faces of those whom I knew so well when living--some of them the
companions of my early days, and who only yesterday were alive and in
the vigour of health; but ah! now I looked upon nothing but a piece
of clay. Hundreds of my countrymen lay there weltering in their
gore. I was on the working party, and counted one hundred bodies put
into one grave; officers and privates there lay together; no coffin
to enclose them, nor shroud to wind them into; they were buried in
their regimentals. We had also to bury the Russians. After consigning
all to their graves, we were ready to march at a moment’s notice. We
bivouacked that night on the battle-field, and the next day, at an
early hour, we marched on towards Sebastopol.