CHAPTER VIII.

Russian Steamers--Tornado--Destruction of Russian Steamers--Sinope avenged--A Year's Work--Its Effect on the British Army--Destruction of Russian Docks--Opinions of Russian Officers on Prospects of Peace--Medals and Ribands--Celebration of the Alma Anniversary--Honours to French and English Commanders--Encampment of Russian Army--Russian Method of removing Dead and Wounded--Anxiety of British Army and Navy "to do something"--Activity of the Russians--Appearance of Balaklava--What the British Army were doing to kill Time.

As the Russian steamers were intact, notwithstanding the efforts of the French battery at the head of the roads near Inkerman to touch them, it was resolved, on the day after the fall of the place, to construct a battery on the ruins of Fort Paul, within 700 yards of the northern shore, under which they had taken refuge. The steamers lay in three irregular lines to the eastward of Fort Catherine, where the deep creeks in the high cliffs gave them some sort of shelter against the fire of the French. There they had been agents of much mischief and injury to the Allies, from the time of the battle of Inkerman. There was the famous _Vladimir_, with her two large funnels and elegant clipper hull; the _Elboeuf_, the steamer which made the celebrated dash into the Black Sea through all our fleet the year before, and burnt some Turkish vessels near Heraclea, just as the _Vladimir_ was seen in Odessa harbour in the month of July, 1854; there was the _Gromonossetz_, which had caused such an annoyance from the Dockyard Creek; the _Chersonese_, and _Odessa_; and there were three others with hard, and to me unknown names, as calmly floating on the water as though no eager eyes were watching from every battery to lay a gun upon them. A number of very capacious dockyard lumps and row-boats were also secured in these creeks, or hung on by the steamers.

[Sidenote: DESTRUCTION OF RUSSIAN VESSELS.]

On the morning of the 11th, about an hour after midnight, an exceedingly violent storm raged over the camp. The wind blew with such fury as to make the hut in which I was writing rock to and fro, at the same time filling it with fine dust. The fires in Sebastopol, fanned by the wind, spread fast, and the glare of the burning city illuminated the whole arch of the sky towards the north-west. At 2 o'clock A.M. the storm increased in strength, and rain fell heavily; the most dazzling flames of lightning shot over the plateau and lighted up the camp; the peals of thunder were so short and startling as to resemble, while they exceeded in noise, the report of cannon. The rain somewhat lessened the intensity of the fire at Sebastopol, but its flames and those of the lightning at times contended for the mastery. There was, indeed, a great battle raging in the skies, and its thunder mocked to scorn our heaviest cannonade. In the whole course of my life I never heard or saw anything like the deluge of rain which fell at 4 o'clock. It beat on the roof with a noise like that of a cataract: it was a veritable waterspout. The lightning at last grew fainter, and the gusts less violent. At 9.45 the tornado passed over the camp once more--hail, storm, and rain. The ground was converted into a mass of mud.

In the course of the afternoon some of the Russian guns in the ruined battery below the Redan were turned on these steamers, and in a few rounds--not more than twelve, I think--succeeded in hulling them eight times. The range was, however, rather long, and it became expedient to move a little nearer. On Tuesday evening, when Lieutenant Gough, of the _London_--who commanded in the Naval Batteries on the Left Attack--came down with his men, he was ordered to take his relief over to the Right Attack and to accompany Lieutenant Anderson, R.E., down to the town, in order to erect a battery for two 95-cwt. guns on the right of St. Paul's Battery. The site of this battery was about 700 yards from Fort Catherine, on the opposite side. The men, although deprived of the quiet night and undisturbed repose they anticipated, set to work with a will, and began throwing up the parapet and filling gabions; and as it was possible that some interruption of the work might take place from the other side, a covering party of 120 men was ordered down from the trenches. There were French sentries in charge of this portion of the place, and the little party found that their Allies were on the _qui vive_, and were keeping a sharp look-out on all sides. The men had been working some time, when it was observed that one of the enemy's steamers had left the north side, and was slowly and noiselessly dropping down to the very spot where the sailors and the covering party were at their labours. The night was dark, but they could clearly make out the steamer edging down upon them, and coming closer and closer. Every moment they expected their guns to open upon them with grape and canister. The men, therefore, lay down upon their faces, and kept as near to the ground as they could, and the steamer came over gently till she was within about 100 yards of the very spot where they had been working. They heard her anchor splash into the water, and then the rattle of her cable as it ran through the hawsehole. Now, certainly, they were "going to catch it," but, no--the Russian opened no port and showed no light, but seemed to be making himself comfortable in his new quarters.

Captain Villiers, of the 47th, who commanded the covering party, ordered his men to observe the utmost silence, and the same injunction was given to the seamen. About 2.30 in the morning, when she had been an hour or so in her novel berth, a broad light was perceived in her fore hatchway. The leading steamer on the opposite side in a second afterwards exhibited gleams of equal brightness, and then one! two! three! four! five!--as though from signal guns, the remaining steamers, with one exception, emitted jets of fire. The jets soon became columns of flame and smoke--the wind blew fresh and strong, so the fire soon spread with rapidity, and soon lighted up the whole of the heavens. The masts were speedily licked and warmed into a fiery glow, and the rigging burst out into fitful wavering lines of light, struggling with the wind for life: the yards shed lambent showers of sparks and burning splinters upon the water. The northern works could be readily traced by the light of the conflagration, and the faces of the Russian soldiers and sailors who were scattered about on the face of the cliff shone out now and then, and justified Rembrandt. The vessels were soon nothing but huge arks of blinding light, which hissed and crackled fiercely, and threw up clouds of sparks and embers; the guns, as they became hot, exploded, and shook the crazy hulls to atoms. One after another they went down into the seething waters.

At daybreak only one steamer remained. A boat pushed alongside her from the shore, and after remaining about ten minutes regained the shore. Very speedily the vessel began to be seized with a sort of internal convulsion--first she dipped her bows, then her stern, then gave a few uneasy shakes, and at length, after a short quiver, went down bodily, cleverly scuttled. Thus was Sinope avenged. Of the men who planned, the sailors who executed, and the ships which were engaged on that memorable expedition, no trace remained. Korniloff, Nachimoff, Istomine, and their crews, disappeared: their vessels rest at the bottom of the roadstead of Sebastopol. The Russians preferred being agents of their own destruction, and did not give the conqueror a chance of parading the fruits of his victory. We could not delight the good people of Plymouth or Portsmouth by the sight of Russian liners and steamers. We could only drive the enemy to the option of destroying or of doing the work for him, and he invariably preferred the former.

[Sidenote: DOUBTFUL PROSPECTS OF PEACE.]

In one year we stormed the heights of the Alma, sustained the glorious disaster of Balaklava, fought the great fight of Inkerman, swept the sea of Azoff and its seaboard, wasted Kertch and seized upon Yenikale, witnessed the battle of the Tchernaya, opened seven bombardments upon Sebastopol, held in check every general and every soldier that Russia could spare; and, after the endurance of every ill that an enemy at home and abroad could inflict upon us--after passing through the summer's heat and winter's frost--after being purged in the fire of sickness and death, repulse and disaster, and, above all, in the glow of victory, the British standard floated over Sebastopol! But our army was not the same. Physiologists tell us that we undergo perpetual charge, and that not a bit of the John Smith of 1854 goes into the composition of the same respected individual in 1864; but we had managed to work up tens of hundreds of atoms in our British army between 1854 and 1855, and there were few indeed to be found in the body corporate who landed in the Crimea a twelvemonth before. Some regiments had been thrice renewed, others had been changed twice over. The change was not for the better--the old stuff was better than the new. The old soldiers had disappeared; in some regiments there were not more than fifteen men, in others there were not so many, remaining out of those who moved in magnificent parade to their first bivouac. Those whom the war had swallowed up were not replaced by better men. The Light Division--those steady, noble soldiers of the Rifle Brigade; the gallant Fusileers; the 19th, the 23rd, the 33rd, the 77th, the 88th--the men who drew the teeth of that terrible Russian Battery on the bloody steeps of the Alma--how few of them were then left to think and wonder at the failure in the Redan! The Second Division, old companions of the Light in hard fighting and in hard work, were sadly reduced. The Third Division, though singularly freed from active participation in any of the great battles or sanguinary struggles of the war, had been heavily smitten by sickness, and had borne a large share of the exhausting and harassing duties of the trenches and of the siege, and its old soldiers had been used up, as those of the other corps. The Fourth Division earned for itself a high reputation. In the fierce contest of Inkerman it won imperishable laurels, which few of the winners were left to wear. As to the Guards--those majestic battalions which secured the fluttering wings of victory on the Alma, and with stubborn front withstood the surge of Muscovite infantry which rolled up the ravines of Inkerman--disease and battle had done their work but too surely, notwithstanding the respite from the trenches during our wintry spring-time, which was allowed perforce to their rapidly vanishing columns.

The silence in camp was almost alarming; were it not for a gun now and then between the town and the north side, and across the Tchernaya, it would have been appalling. The Naval Brigade was broken up and sent on board ship. Our batteries were disarmed; the Army Works Corps, assisted by soldiers, engaged in the formation of a new road from Balaklava, parallel with the line of railway. Everything around us indicated an intention on the part of the chiefs of putting the army into winter quarters on the site of their encampment.

The Sappers and Miners sank mines, to destroy the docks that had cost Russia so much anxiety, money, and bloodshed; and, if it were not that they were intended to be, and had been, accessory to violence, one would have regretted that such splendid memorials of human skill should be shattered to atoms. But the fleet of Sinope sailed thence, in them it was repaired on its return; and these vessels were built, not to foster peace and commerce, but to smite and destroy them.

There was an armistice on Tuesday, Sept. 11th, to effect an interchange of letters, for the benefit of the prisoners, and to make inquiries respecting missing officers on both sides. The Russian officer who conducted it, and who was supposed to have been the commander of the _Vladimir_, expressed the same opinion as the Russian Admiral did on Monday, Sept. 10th--"With this before us," pointing to the ruins of Sebastopol, "peace is farther off than ever." The Russians had very large parks of artillery on the north side of the harbour; and the piles of provisions, _matériel_, and coal which were visible, showed that they did not want the means of carrying on the war, as far as such things were concerned. Many of the guns found here were cast at Carron, from the letters on their trunnion heads and breeches.

The enemy persisted in casting up formidable earthworks on the north side, and we looked on as we did from September 27 till October 17, 1854, and saw them preparing their defences, with the sure conviction that we should be able to carry them, or sap up to them, or take them in some way or other in a year or two. Meantime, the weather came in with a word of its own, and said to our deliberating Generals, "Stop! as you have waited so long, I won't let you move now."

It was on the 19th of September, twelve months before this was written, that the Allied armies marched from Old Fort, and that the Russians drew first blood at Bouljanak. What an eventful year had elapsed! and how few survived through all our sufferings and our glories!

The medals and ribands issued to commanding officers were distributed on the 20th of September, about ten medals for each company. As to the riband, there was but one opinion,--that it was unbecoming and _mesquin_ to a degree. Men differed as to the merits of the medal; but a large majority abused it, and the clasps were likened generally to the labels on public-house wine-bottles. The proceedings at the distribution were tame and spiritless. A regiment was drawn up, with the commanding officer in front; beside him stood a sergeant, with a big bag. "John Smith" was called.

"Here."

The Colonel dipped his hand into the bag, took out a small parcel, and said, "John Smith, you were Alma, Balaklava, and Inkerman?"

"Yes." The Colonel handed him the parcel, and John Smith retired to his place in the ranks, carrying the said packet in his hand, which he opened at the "dismiss." Perhaps the John Smith alluded to never saw a shot fired except at a distance. He might have been on peaceful guard at Lord Raglan's head-quarters on the 5th of November; yet he wears the clasp for Inkerman. He might have been engaged in no more sanguinary work than that of killing oxen and sheep for the division in the commissariat slaughter-house, and yet he will show on his breast "Crimea," "Alma," "Balaklava," "Inkerman."

This great anniversary was celebrated enthusiastically throughout the army. There were many "Alma dinners" in the regiments, among both officers and men; and music and song kept the camp awake till long after midnight. Many a memory of the dead was revived, many an old wound reopened, at these festive meetings. The French also had their banquets and festivities. They had a grand ceremony early in the morning--a _Missa Solennis_ for the repose of the dead.

General Pelissier was made a Marshal of France, and received from Her Majesty the Grand Cross of the Bath. Of the latter order he seemed exceedingly proud, and he signed his name "Pelissier, G.C.B." General Simpson received the distinction of the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour.

[Sidenote: RESOURCES OF THE RUSSIANS.]

At daybreak on the morning of the 21st of September, I saw through the mist on the Mackenzie ridge a numerous line of watch-fires, and later in the early light a strong column of the Russian infantry was visible in bivouac to our right of the telegraph station and to the left of the Spur Battery, near the Mackenzie Road. Part of these marched away again in the course of the day; the rest remained in the same place, and hutted themselves with great skill and alacrity. They were encamped in a sort of chapparell, and they converted the branches into the sides and coverings of their huts. Their arms were piled when they first arrived at the bivouac, but three hours later the glistening barrels and bayonets had disappeared, having possibly been placed in some dry and secure place. Having secured their right flank by the very formidable earthworks and batteries which we permitted the enemy to erect, in addition to their former defences and their regular forts, the Russians directed the bulk of their army to protect their centre, resting on the Tchernaya and Mackenzie, and their left at Aitodor, and on the Upper Belbek to Bakschiserai. They prepared to hold this extensive line; and as the Allies could scarcely spare men enough to send to Eupatoria, and thence to march on Simpheropol, or to force the Russian position on the Belbek by a moving corps to operate against them on the north, and as there was no apparent intention of attacking them from Inkerman or the Tchernaya, the dead lock was likely enough not to be relaxed that winter.

The quantity of stores removed by the Russians from the north side to their depôt showed that they were not in want of provisions, unless they took the trouble to carry dummy sacks and fill their carts with "make-believes." It must have been difficult for them to feed their army, but somehow or other they did so. They left considerable quantities of food behind them in the city; large flocks and herds studded the plains near the citadel. The soldiers who fell into the hands of the Sardinians and French on the 16th of August carried abundance of bread and spirits, and they had meat and plenty of everything except water, when they came down to attack the Allies; so that, altogether, I was not so very sanguine as to think the Russians would be forced to abandon their position on the approach of winter. The country around them would supply abundance of wood for fuel, and they were skilled in making comfortable and warm underground huts. The enemy, therefore, would be as well housed as the Allies, supposing the latter succeeded in getting up huts before the winter set in. "Leaving them alone" would never drive a Russian army out of the field; the only thing to do that was the French and English bayonet, and plenty of fighting.

The Muscovite generals cannot be accused of any great regard for their killed and wounded, but they have certainly much respect for the prejudices and feelings of their soldiers. We were over and over again astonished at the wonderful way in which the dead and wounded disappeared after the repulse of a sortie in which there were probably 200 of the enemy put _hors de combat_. Except the dead and wounded left in our trenches, none were ever to be seen after such contests when day broke. A soldier of the 68th (M'Geevor), who was taken prisoner in a sortie, and who returned to his regiment after a long and (to others) interesting march in Russia, explained the mystery, such as it was. On the night alluded to it could not be ascertained what the Russian loss was, but it was certain that the firing had been very heavy and the work very warm while it lasted. As this man was being carried to the rear after a stout resistance, he observed that there were hundreds of soldiers without weapons between the reserves and the column of sortie, and that these men were employed exclusively in removing the dead and wounded, who would otherwise have been left in the hands of the British. The most extensive provision we make in such cases is sending one, or at most two, litters to a regiment, except when the ambulances go out for a pitched battle. Perhaps we do not calculate on leaving our ground, but the best General is always prepared for retreat as well as for victory, and if ever we should be placed in the same circumstances as the Russians have been, it would be advisable to follow their example.

On the 24th Sir Edmund Lyons and Admiral Stewart, with several post-captains, attended at head-quarters, and it was understood that they, in common with the whole fleet, were most anxious "to do something" ere the season was too far advanced for naval operations. At Eupatoria they found no less than 31,000 Turkish infantry in a fine state of discipline, and in perfect readiness for any military service. These soldiers were all reviewed and inspected on the occasion, and officers of rank, English and French, were alike gratified by the disciplined alertness and efficiency of these neglected and almost useless infantry. It is difficult to imagine that these Turks could not have aided us materially in driving the enemy from Sebastopol if strengthened by an English division and two French divisions, which could have been easily spared from the army before Sebastopol. Moreover, they might have been aided by all our cavalry, which were in very excellent condition, and were of no earthly service at Kadikoi or Baidar. Between French, English, and Sardinians, we could have sent a force of at least 5,500 sabres to the north side of the Alma, which certainly would have had nothing to fear from any Russian cavalry in the Crimea. The Land Transport Corps had more than 10,000 horses and mules. The allied fleet could have embarked and landed the whole force in sixty hours, at any point between Balaklava or Kamiesch and Eupatoria. Army and fleet were alike inactive--the only tokens of military life were displayed on the side of the enemy.

The celerity with which they threw up and finished the most formidable-looking redoubts on the land and sea sides was astonishing. The Russians are admirable diggers, and if Marshal Turenne's maxim, that as many battles were won by the spade as by the musket be true, they are good soldiers. The fire across the roads increased in frequency and severity every day, but the mortars of the French caused some injury and impediment to the Russian workmen, and occasionally damaged their magazines.

[Sidenote: RECREATIONS OF THE ARMY.]

The army, French, English, and Sardinians, as well as the few Turkish troops, prepared for the winter with energy, but no steps were taken to operate against the enemy. Balaklava presented a singular aspect. There were only some dozen of the original houses left scattered amid iron storehouses, mountainous piles of wood, heaps of coal, of corn, of forage, of shot and shell, and of stores multitudinous. The harbour was trenched upon by new quays and landing-places, and two long wooden jetties projected far into its waters at the shallow head of the harbour, and rendered good service in taking the pressure off the quays at the waterside. _The quantity of corn issued for horses, mules, and ponies in the English army was_ 280,000lb. _daily_.

Many of the officers were hutted, some constructed semi-subterranean residences, and the camp was studded all over with the dingy roofs, which at a distance looked much like an aggregate of molehills. In order to prevent _ennui_ or listlessness after the great excitement of so many months in the trenches, the Generals of Division began to drill our veterans, and to renew the long-forgotten pleasures of parades, field-days, and inspections. In all parts of the open ground about the camps, the visitor might have seen men with Crimean medals and Balaklava and Inkerman clasps, practising goose-step or going through extension movements, learning, in fact, the A B C of their military education, though they had already seen a good deal of fighting and soldiering. Still there were periods when the most inveterate of martinets rested from their labour, and the soldier, having nothing else to do, availed himself of the time and money at his disposal to indulge in the delights of the canteen. Road-making occupied some leisure hours, but the officers had very little to do, and found it difficult to kill time, riding about Sebastopol, visiting Balaklava, foraging at Kamiesch, or hunting for quail, which were occasionally found in swarms all over the steppe, and formed most grateful additions to the mess-table. There was no excitement in front; the Russians remained immovable in their position at Mackenzie's Farm. The principal streets of Sebastopol lost the charm of novelty and possession. Even Cathcart's Hill was deserted, except by the "look-out officer" for the day, or by a few wandering strangers and visitors.