=Source.=—_The Times_, November 24.
BEFORE SEBASTOPOL, _November 5_.
It had rained almost incessantly the night before, and the early
morning gave no promise of any cessation of the heavy showers which
had fallen for the previous four-and-twenty hours. Towards dawn a
heavy fog settled down on the heights and valleys of Inkermann. The
pickets and men on outlying posts were thoroughly saturated, and their
arms were wet, despite their precautions; and it is scarcely to be
wondered at if some of them were not as alert as sentries should be
in face of an enemy. The fog and vapours of drifting rain were so
thick, as morning broke, that one could scarcely see two yards before
him. At four o’clock the bells of the churches in Sebastopol were
heard ringing drearily through the cold night air, but the occurrence
has been so usual that it provoked no particular attention. During
the night, however, a sharp-eared sergeant on an outlying picket of
the Light Division heard the sound of wheels in the valley below, as
though they were approaching the position up the hill. He reported the
circumstance, but it was supposed that the sound came from arabas or
ammunition carts going into Sebastopol by the Inkermann road. No one
suspected for a moment that enormous masses of Russians were creeping
up the rugged sides of the height over the valley of Inkermann, on the
undefended flank of the Second Division. There all was security and
repose. Little did the slumbering troops in camp imagine that a subtle
and indefatigable enemy were bringing into position an overwhelming
artillery ready to play upon the tents at the first glimpse of
daylight....
And now commenced the bloodiest struggle ever witnessed since war
cursed the earth. It has been doubted by military historians if any
enemy has ever stood a charge with the bayonet, but here the bayonet
was often the only weapon employed in conflicts of the most obstinate
and deadly character. The battle of Inkermann admits of no description.
It was a series of dreadful deeds of daring, of sanguinary hand-to-hand
fights, of despairing rallies, of desperate assaults, in glens and
valleys, in brushwood glades and remote dells hidden from human eyes,
and from which the conquerors, Russian or British, issued only to
engage fresh foes.
“MUDDLING THROUGH” BEFORE SEBASTOPOL (1854-55).