CHAPTER VI.

Proclamation of Peace--Preparations for the Evacuation--Review of the Struggle--What might have been done--Russian Song on the Incidents of the War--Excursions into the Interior of the Crimea--Defences on the North Side of Sebastopol--Resources of the Country--Tour in the Interior--Crimean Flora--A real Obstacle--Useful Public Works executed by the Party--Various Adventures--Return to Camp.

At two o'clock P.M. on Wednesday, the 2nd of April, proclamation of peace was made to the Allied armies by salutes of 101 guns, fired by the field batteries of the Light and Second Divisions, from the heights over the plain of Balaklava; by the French batteries at the Quartier Générale; by the Sardinian redoubts at Fedukhine; and by the men-of-war at Kamiesch and Kazatch; but an early General Order and a very widely-spread rumour had diffused the intelligence among officers and men long before the cannon exultingly announced it by their thundering voices.

The news was known at Balaklava by eight o'clock A.M., and the _Leander_, Captain Rice, bearing the flag of Admiral Fremantle, "dressed," and the merchant shipping followed her example, by order, so that the harbour presented a gayer scene than human eye ever witnessed since it was first discovered by some most investigating, shore-hugging, and fissure-pursuing navigator. It was a fine day--at least it appeared so by contrast with its recent predecessors,--and the effect of the firing from so many points, all of which were visible from the heights of the plateau near the Woronzoff Road, was very fine. The enemy saw the smoke and heard the roar of our guns, but they maintained a stern and gloomy silence. One would have thought that they, above all, would have shown some signs of satisfaction at the peace which they sought, and which they had made such sacrifices to obtain, while no one would have wondered if the batteries of the English and Sardinians expressed no opinion on the subject. However, there was not a Russian shot fired or flag hoisted from Fort Constantine to Mackenzie, nor, although we had ceased to be enemies, did any increase in our intimacy take place.

The preparations for the evacuation of the Crimea were now pressed on with rapidity and energy. Each division collected about 4,000 shot a-day from the iron-studded ravines and grounds in front of our camp, and they were carried to Balaklava as fast as the means at our disposal--railway and land transport--permitted. Our soldiers were about to leave the scene of their sufferings and of their glory. Alas! how many of those who landed lie there till the judgment-day! Who can tell how many lives were wasted which ought to have been saved to the country, to friends, to an honoured old age? These questions may never be answered, least of all were they answered at Chelsea Hospital. Heaven lets loose all its plagues on those who delight in war, and on those who shed men's blood, even in the holiest causes. The pestilence by day and night, deadly fever, cholera, dysentery, strategical errors, incompetence and apathy of chieftains, culpable inactivity, fatal audacity--all these follow in the train of armies, and kill more than bullet or sword. But war has its rules. The bloody profession by the skilful exercise of which liberty is achieved or crushed--by which States are saved or annihilated, has certain fixed principles for its guidance; and the homoeopathic practitioner in the art, the quack, the charlatan, or the noble amateur, will soon be detected and overwhelmed in the horrors of defeat and ruin. Perhaps on no occasion was the neglect of the course of regular practice so severely punished, even although in the end the object was gained, as in the siege of Sebastopol.

[Sidenote: RETROSPECT.]

Every statement made by the Russian officers in conversation with us concurred in this--that we might have taken Sebastopol in September, 1854; that they were not only prepared to abandon the city to its fate, but that they regarded it as untenable and incapable of defence, and had some doubts of their position in the Crimea itself, till our inaction gave Menschikoff courage, and raised in him hopes of an honourable defence, which might enable him to hold us in check, or to expose us to the attack of overwhelming masses. They admitted that their great error was the assumption of a simply defensive attitude after the battle of Inkerman, and they felt that they ought to have renewed the attack upon our enfeebled army, notwithstanding the terrible loss they suffered in that memorable action. It might have been mere military fanfaronade on their part to put forward such an assertion, but the Russians one and all declared they could have retaken the Malakoff under the fire of their ships, but it had been clearly demonstrated since the fire opened on September the 5th, that it would be impossible to hold the south side under the increasing weight and proximity of the bombardment. "It was a veritable butchery, which demoralized our men so far as to make them doubt the chances of continuing the struggle. We lost 3,000 a-day. No part of the city was safe, except the actual bombproofs in the batteries. We were content to have beaten the English at the Redan, to have repulsed the French at the Bastion of Careening Bay (the Little Redan), the Gervais Battery, and the Bastion Centrale and to leave them the credit of surprising the Malakoff; but, even had we held it, we must soon have retired to the north side, and we had been preparing for that contingency for some days."

The battle of the Alma had produced such an effect that there seemed to be no chance of offering resistance to the Allies, and the fall of Sebastopol was regarded as certain. The Russians, however, meditated a great revenge, and, knowing the weakness of our army, and that it could not hold the heights and storm the town at the same time, they intended to take the very plateau on which we were encamped, to fall on our troops while we were disorganized by our success, and get them between the fire of the Russian shipping, of the northern forts, and of the field artillery outside the place. At first they could not understand the flank march to Balaklava, except as a manoeuvre to escape the fire of the north forts, and to get at the weak side of the city, and for three or four days they waited, uncertain what to do, until they learned we were preparing for a siege. It was then--that is, about five days after we appeared before the place--that they commenced the work. Men, women, and children laboured at them with zeal, and for the first time a hope was entertained of saving Sebastopol, or of maintaining the defence till the _corps d'armée_ destined for its relief could march down to raise the siege.

It was the first instance on record of such a place having been taken by the mere fire of artillery; for it was admitted by the Russians that even if the assault on the Malakoff had been repelled, they must have abandoned a position exposed at every nook and chink and cranny to such a fire that the very heavens seemed to rain shot and shell upon them. We lost an army in establishing that fire, and we did not (notwithstanding the honeyed words of Lord Palmerston, every soldier of the Crimea feels what I say is the truth)--we did not add to our reputation--nay, we did not sustain it--in the attacks of the 18th of June and the 8th of September. And will it be said that _because_ the particulars of those conflicts have been made known to the world, and _because_ the daring, the devotion, the gallantry, the heroism of our officers and men have been displayed before its eyes, that the English nation has lost its military _prestige_? Would it have been possible to have concealed and slurred over our failures? Would it have been better to have let the story be told in Russian despatches, in French _Moniteurs_, in English _Gazettes_! No; the very dead on Cathcart's Hill would be wronged as they lay mute in their bloody shrouds, and calumny and falsehood would insult that warrior race, which is not less Roman because it has known a Trebia and a Thrasymene. We all felt well assured that it was no fault of our officers that we did not take the Redan. We could point to the trenches piled deep with our gallant allies before the Careening Bay and the Central Bastion, and turn to the Malakoff, won without the loss of 200 men, and then invoke the goddess Fortune! Alas! She does not always favour the daring; she leaves them sometimes lifeless at the blood-stained embrasure, before the shattered traverse, in the deadly ditch and she demands, as hostages for the bestowal of her favours, skill and prudence, as well as audacity and courage.

There was a song on the incidents of the war very popular in the Russian camp, in which Prince Menschikoff was exposed to some ridicule, and the Allies to severe sarcasm. Menschikoff was described as looking out of the window of a house in Bakshiserai, and inquiring for news from Sebastopol; courier after courier arrives and says, "Oh! Sebastopol is safe."--"And what are the Allies doing? "--"Oh! they are breaking down the houses of Balaklava and eating grapes." The same news for a day or two. At last a courier tell him the Allies are cutting twigs in the valleys, and that they are digging great furrows three-quarters of a mile from the place. "I declare they are going to besiege it," says he; "and, if so, I must defend it." And so he sends for his engineers. They at first think the Allies, misled by ancient traditions about the mines, must be digging for gold; but at last they make a reconnaissance, and, finding that the Allies are really making approaches, they say, "Why, we shall have time to throw up works, too;" and so they draw up their plans, and Todleben says, "Give me five days, and I'll mount three guns for their two;" and Menschikoff dances and sings, "Ha, ha! _I've_ saved Sebastopol!" The Russians were astonished at their own success; above all, they were surprised at the supineness and want of vigilance among the Allies. They told stories of stealing upon our sentries and carrying them off, and of rushing at night into our trenches, and finding the men asleep in their blankets; they recounted with great glee the capture of a sergeant and five men in daylight, all sound in slumber (poor wretches, ill-fed, ill-clad, and worked beyond the endurance of human nature!) in one of the ravines towards Inkerman.

[Sidenote: AFTER THE WAR.]

Among many stories of the kind which I heard, one is remarkable. When the attack on Inkerman was projected, it was arranged that one strong column, having crossed the bridge of the Tchernaya, near the head of the harbour, should march along the road which winds up _above_ the Quarries ravine, and which leads right upon the ground then occupied by Evans's Division; but this was conceived to be the most daring part of the enterprise, "as no doubt, strong pickets would be posted on that road, and guns commanding the bridge, or raking the road, would be placed behind the scarps, and these guns would have to be taken, and the pickets and their supports driven in. Judge of our astonishment when we found no scarps at all, and not a single gun on this point! Our General cried, as he gained the level of the plateau without a shot being fired, 'We have them--Sebastopol is saved!' The bridge over the Tchernaya was not repaired for the passage of men and guns till past five o'clock in the morning of the 5th, and the men did not begin till after dark on the preceding evening."

But, after all, we were probably saved from severer trials by our own want of enterprise. When the conflict before Sebastopol assumed such gigantic proportions it became _the_ war itself. The armies of Russia were absorbed into it, and perished in detail. Had we taken Sebastopol at the outset, we must have been prepared, with our small armies, to meet those _corps d'armée_ which lost tens of thousands in their hasty march to relieve the place, but who, in the event of its capture, would have closed slowly round us, and the same incapacity which prevented our reaping the fruits of our _coup-de-main_ in attempting the Crimean expedition, might have led to more serious evils in a protracted campaign in the open field against a numerous and well handled, if not a daring, enemy. Success was indeed obtained, but its cost had been great. What shall be said if much of that cost can be shown to have been a gratuitous outlay of time and money? To me, next to the graveyards, verdant oases in the dark plateau, the most melancholy and significant object was our old parallel opened against the Malakoff, which the French took from us as the basis of their attack in the spring of 1855.

One man who came into Balaklava after the peace was observed to be very anxiously peering about the walls of a new store. On being asked what he was about, he confessed he was searching for the site of his house, in the cellar of which he had deposited a good deal of plate and valuables. I fear he had but a Flemish account of them. The Russian military band (150 strong) at Mackenzie was a great object of attraction. It played at four o'clock every afternoon. At the hymn of "God preserve the Czar," or whatever the exact translation of the title may be, all the Russians took off their caps. I could have wished that our officers who were present, and who understood the occasion, had done the same, for immediately afterwards, when the band played "God save the Queen," the Russians uncovered their heads, and paid to our national anthem the same mark of respect as they had paid to their own. A Russian officer--a very young man--covered with orders, was pointed out to some of the officers as one who had _never left_ the Flagstaff Bastion for eleven months. He had been shot through the body, and had been wounded in the head, in the arm, and in the thigh, on different occasions; he had insisted on remaining in the bastion, nor would he permit himself to be removed to hospital. Many of the soldiers wore the cross of St. George and other orders. What a phenomenon would a British private be with the riband of the C.B. on his breast! The Russians were very anxious to get some of our medals, and there were some stories afloat concerning the cleverness with which men sold florins at high prices for Sebastopol medals.

Some officers soon penetrated to Bakshiserai, and returned with alarming accounts of the price of eatables, drinkables, and accommodation--porter twenty francs a bottle, champagne thirty-five francs a bottle, dinner and bed a small fortune. There were some very hospitable fellows among the Russian officers, and they gave and took invitations to lunch, dinner, and supper very freely. One of our Generals[35] up at Mackenzie, was asked to stay to tea by a Russian officer, whose hut he was visiting, but Madame, who presided at the tea-table, darted such a look at her peccant spouse when he gave the invitation, and glared so fiercely at the heretical Englishmen, that our General and Staff turned tail and bolted, leaving the Ruski to the enjoyment of the lecture which Madame Caudelska would no doubt inflict upon him. Perhaps the poor lady was short of spoons, or trembled for her stock of sugar.

As there was nothing doing in camp I proceeded on a week's excursion to Simpheropol, the Tchatir Dagh, Bakshiserai, Orianda, Yalta, and by Aloupka. The Russians sent passes to head-quarters, with one of which I was furnished. It was as follows: "Carte de passe pour les avant postes" (in print), "General de Service Tchervinsky;" then in Russian MS., "Allowed to pass--General Major."

Before I left I went over the north forts, and carefully examined the defences of the place. Fort Constantine bore very few marks of the bombardment and cannonade of the 17th of October, 1854. The crown of the arch of one embrasure was injured, and supported by wood, and the stone-work was pitted here and there with shot; but the "pits" had been neatly filled in and plastered over. Fort Catherine, or Nachimoff (formerly Suwaroff), was uninjured, but St. Michael's, which was badly built, suffered from the French mortar fire after we got into the town. The citadel was covered on all sides by earthworks, and the hill-sides furrowed up by lines of batteries bearing on every landing-place and every approach. In line from Fort Constantine to the Quarantine and Alexander Forts were sunk, before the 17th of October, three eighty-fours, then one hundred-and-twenty, then two eighty-fours, and then one fifty-four. Inside this line was a strong boom, which would have brought up any vessels that had succeeded in bursting through the sunken ships. This outer line and the boom itself were so much damaged, however, by the gale of the 14th of November as to be of little use. The second boom, consisting of chain cables floated by timber, extended from Fort Nicholas on the south to the west of St. Michael's Fort on the north. Inside this boom were sunk, commencing from the north side, a sixty-gun ship, an eighty-four, a one-hundred-and-twenty, an eighty-four, and a sixty-gun frigate. Then came the bridge of boats from Fort Nicholas to St. Michael's. Inside that, in two lines, lay the rest of the Russian fleet. The first was formed of three eighty-fours, a one-hundred-and-twenty, and one hundred-and-ten-gun line-of-battle ship; the second consisted of a seven-gun steamer, a six-gun ditto, a thirteen-gun ditto, and an eighty-four, close to the ruins of Fort Paul. Nearer to Inkerman, in the creeks and bays on the north side, were sunken steamers, five brigs of war and corvettes, and a schooner yacht sunk or aground.

The boats of the men-of-war were safe in one of the creeks which our guns could not reach.

[Sidenote: HIGH PRICES IN THE CRIMEA.]

The Russians shouted at us lustily as we were engaged in examining the timbers. Although the teredo had not attacked the wood, it was covered with barnacles and slime, and from what we saw of the ships, it did not seem likely they would ever be raised as men-of-war again. The famous "_Twelve Apostles_" the "_Three Godheads_" the "_Tchesme_" the "_Wratislaw_" and the "_Empress Maria_" were unseaworthy before they were sunk, and the only ship for which the Russians expressed any sorrow was the "_Grand Duke Constantine_," one-hundred-and-twenty, the finest ship in their navy. She seemed quite content with her berth on the bottom, and it will be some time before a timber of her floats again.

The impression left upon the mind of every person who made the little tour round the coast was that the resources of Russia in men were reduced to a low ebb in the course of this war, and that she would have been utterly unable to maintain an army in the Crimea, or to continue in possession of it, had we made an aggressive movement with all our forces from Theodosia or Eupatoria, or even left her in an attitude of watchfulness along the extended line from the north side of Sebastopol to Simpheropol. That she possessed considerable means of transport, and had arabas, telegas, and horses sufficient, in ordinary times and on good roads, for the service of her army, was evident enough; but I was assured, on authority beyond question, that for two whole days in the winter the troops at Mackenzie were left without food, in consequence of the state of the roads. The prices of provisions, allowing very amply for the extortions of needy Tartars, of famished innkeepers, and for an extremely liberal spirit on the part of English tourists, were enormous, and it was almost impossible in many places to procure barley or corn for horses at any sum whatever. The country was deserted, the fields uncultivated, agriculture unheeded. A few flocks of sheep and herds of cattle were to be seen here and there in the course of a week's ride, but these were the property of the Government or of contractors, and were not for sale; along the south coast fresh meat was unknown, and salt fish and salt pork were the food of those in good circumstances. A mouthful of hay for a horse cost half a rouble or fifty copecs--eggs were 5_d._ a-piece--fowls utterly beyond the means of Croesus.

But amid all these evidences of desolation, the Cossack was seen here, there, everywhere--singly--in twos and threes--in pickets--in patrols--in grand guards--in polks--trotting, walking, or galloping, mounted high on his quaint saddle over his shaggy, long-tailed pony, flourishing with one hand his cruel whip, while with the other he guided the docile animal, above which he towered like a giant, his dirty grey coat fluttering in the breeze and his lance-point shining brightly in the sun. He was sown broadcast all over the Crimea. But you did not see regular soldiers in any numbers till you entered the typhus-haunted streets of Simpheropol, or waded through the mud of Bakshiserai; and even here the miserable, jaded, utterly spiritless, ill-clad, ill-fed, and broken-down militiamen were in the proportion of two to one to the soldiers of the line.

In order to judge of the state of the country, I shall transcribe from my diary during the tour such portions of it as appear likely to afford information respecting the effects of the war, or give an insight into the condition of the Crimea. Some other portions, referring to matters of less importance, may, however, prove amusing, if not instructive, more from the novelty of the circumstances to which they relate than from any merit of narration or powers of description.

[Sidenote: VALLEY OF BAIDAR.]

"_April 12th._--Started at ten o'clock from camp. The party consisted of four officers, two civilians--one of them myself, the other a travelling gentleman--an interpreter, two soldier servants, and one civilian servant. We took with us a strong two-wheeled light cart, drawn by two mules and a pack-pony, and carried in the cart a canteen, a few bottles of spirits and sherry, cases of preserved beef, two tents, fowling-pieces, a fishing-rod, picks and spades, blankets and horse-cloths. The cart was started early, with orders to halt at Baidar till we arrived, and the party were trotting along the Woronzoff Road towards Kamara by eleven o'clock. The day was most favourable--a clear sky, genial sun, and light southerly wind. I met the 4th Hussars (French) on their march in from their cantonments about Baidar, where they have been long exposed to most trying work on outpost duty, and in the ordinary occupation of light cavalry in war time. They were fine soldierly fellows, and were 'quite ready as they sat to ride either to the Great Wall of China or St. Petersburg.' Each man carried a portion of the cooking utensils of his mess, forage for his horse, blankets, and necessaries for the march, and seemed heavily charged, but on examination he would be found to weigh a couple of stone less than an English Hussar--otherwise, indeed, his small horse, however high-tempered, could not carry him. The Sardinians were also on the move, and sending in baggage to Balaklava. The large village of sheds and sutlers' shops on the road at the Fedukhine heights, which was called 'Woronzoff,' was in considerable excitement at the prospect of losing its customers, notwithstanding that the Russians flocked in to supply their place. The French camp here is built like that of their neighbours the Sardinians, very much on the Tartar or Russian plan, and the huts are semi-subterranean. They present in appearance a strong contrast to the regular rows of high wooden huts belonging to the Highland Division opposite, at Kamara, but the money saved to France and Sardinia by the ingenuity and exertions of their soldiers in hutting themselves must have been very considerable in amount. To counteract the _mesquin_ look of these huts, our Allies--more especially the French--planted the ground with young firs and evergreens, brought a considerable distance from the hill-sides of Baidar, so that, after all, their camp is more pleasant to look at than that of the English. They have also made gardens, which promise to bear fruit, flowers, and vegetables for Tartars and Muscovites, and they have turned a large portion of ground by the banks of the Tchernaya, and close to the Traktir Bridge, into a succession of gardens, each appropriated to different companies of the regiments encamped in the neighbourhood. _Sic vos non vobis._

"As we entered the gorge which leads into the valley of Varnutka we met some Tartar families, men and children, on the road, looking out possibly for some place to squat on. These poor creatures are menaced with a forced return to their nomadic habits of centuries ago. Civilization has corrupted them. The youngsters run alongside your horse, crying out, if you are English, 'I say, Johnny, piaster! give me piaster, Johnny!' if you are French, 'Doe dong (intended for _dites donc_), donnez moi piaster'--when young, a bright-eyed, handsome race, with fine teeth and clear complexions; and when old, venerable-looking, owing to their marked features and long beards, but in manhood sly, avaricious, shy, and suspicious. The Russians give bad accounts of them, and say they are not to be trusted, that they are revengeful and ill-disposed--the slave-owner's account of his nigger. Most of the fruit-trees in the pretty valley of Miskomia and Varnutka have been cut down for fuel. Crossing the ridge which separates this valley from that of Baidar, we pass the gutted and half-ruined chateau _dit_ 'Peroffsky.' For a long time this charming little villa supplied French and English cavalry outposts with delicious, wine from its cellars, and was spared from ruin; but bit by bit things were taken away, and at last a general spoliation of all the place contained was made--the furniture was smashed to atoms, the doors broken, the windows carried away. One officer attached to the light cavalry regiment quartered there took away a handsome china service, and most of these dangerous visitors brought off some memento of their visits. The Tartars were rather rejoiced at the ruin of the place, for Count Peroffsky was no favourite with them, but they always express the greatest regard and affection for Prince Woronzoff. Baidar itself--a middling Tartar hamlet at the best of times--looks worse than ever now; garance dyed breeches were hanging out of the window-holes on all sides, and outside one very shaky, tumble-down wattle-house, there was a board declaring that there was good eating and drinking in the 'Café Pelissier.' The village has one advantage, of which no Tartar village is ever destitute--a stream of clear water flows through it, and there are two or three fine springs close at hand. The people are miserable; the men are employed by the French as woodcutters and as drivers of arabas, but the money they receive is not sufficient to procure them full supplies of food or proper clothing.

"From Baidar the road ascends by the mountain ridges to the Foross or Phoros Pass, and affords many delightful views of the great valley of Baidar, which is, as it were, a vast wooded basin, surrounded by mountain and hill ranges covered with trees, and sweeping right round it. Blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales, large gaudy jays, wood-pigeons, doves, rock-pigeons, hawks, falcons, and great numbers of magpies, frequent the valley, and those which have good voices make it right musical towards sunset. Nightingales are very numerous, and so are varieties of flycatchers, titmice, and buntings. In winter, the hills are full of woodcock, the springs are haunted by snipe, wild duck, widgeon, and teal; and the woods give shelter not only to roe-deer, but, if certain reports promulgated this winter are to be believed, to wolves and bears. The road to Phoros is not good, and in winter must have been of little use. The summit of the pass at Phoros is surmounted by a stone arch which crosses the road at a place guarded by walls of rock, hundreds of feet in height. There is a French guard here, and, of course, we had to exhibit our passes. That was but a little matter, but on entering the archway we found it was fortified after the first rules of art: there were traverses and parapets of great height and thickness, and at the other side of the arch were similar obstacles. The mules were taken out of the cart; then it was unloaded, and the things carried one by one to the other side of these entrenchments; then the wheels were taken off, and by the united strength of our whole party, aided by some good-natured French soldiers, the cart itself was lifted up bodily and carried across all the gabions, earthworks, and traverses, and landed with a cheer on the narrow road at the other side of the pass.

[Sidenote: PUBLIC WORKS--PHOROS PASS.]

"The scene which bursts upon the eye on emerging from the arch is one of the finest I have ever witnessed--indeed, I am not sure that it is not the most beautiful and grand that can be seen anywhere. You find yourself standing in a very narrow road, on the left hand of which a sheer slab of rock rises to the height of 600 or 700 feet above--its surface rent with fissures, here and there dotted by stunted firs, which cling like weeds to its surface, diversified with all the tints for which volcanic rocks are remarkable. At the base of this cliff, which stretches further than the sight can trace it, there is a ragged fringe of mighty boulders, of fragments of mountains tossed down in the wildest confusion amid the straggling brushwood. On your right, nearly 1,000 feet below, is the sea, washing the narrow selvage of land which, covered with thick groves and dotted with rocks, tumbles down beneath your feet in waves of verdure, so rapidly that the dark blue waters, which are really nearly a mile distant, seem to be only a few hundred yards from the road. This narrow shelving strip of land, which lies beneath the cliff and descends to the sea, formed of the débris of the mountain-chain above it, extends along the coast from Phoros to Demur Kapu, or the Iron Gate, widening as it runs eastward, and losing its distinctive character completely ere it reaches Aloushta, in consequence of the great wall of cliff on the left hand receding rapidly inland and northwards from the point opposite Yalta. The length of this strip is thirty miles. It is nearly a mile broad at Phoros, and thence it gradually expands, till at Aloupka it attains a breadth of three miles from the sea to the base of the cliff, and at Yalta is five miles. The road winds for many miles along the foot of these stupendous crags, but there is a lower road, reached by zig-zags, which leads to the villas situated in the lovely valleys by the coast. This strip of shelving land is of the most varied formation. It is tossed about into hill and dale, and is seamed with shady ravines and deep woody dells, which are watercourses in winter. As it is quite sheltered by the cliff from northerly winds, and is exposed to the full power of the sun, the climate here is beautifully mild until the heats of summer begin, and the land produces in great perfection an astonishing variety of vegetable productions.

"The Crimea has a Flora of its own, but the lady is dressed so quaintly, uses such strange language, and is called so many hard, long names, that in my ignorance I am afraid to approach her, or to do anything more than to praise her general effect and appearance at a distance. But here indeed is a horrid reality to talk about. Some half-mile from Phoros, the road runs through a solid rock by means of a tunnel about thirty yards long. I happened to be riding in advance, and saw that this tunnel was blocked up by a wall seven feet in height and eight feet in thickness. All passage for the cart seemed hopeless. We never could lift it up so high. There was no getting round the rock, and so I smote my breast and returned to the party. But there were two or three among us not easily to be deterred from their purpose. An examination was made; a council of war was held; and it was decided that over the wall we must go, and that the obstacle intended to prevent the march of Cossack cavalry and the carriage of mountain guns, was not to impede six British tourists. Under the direction of our acting engineer, to work we went. The party got on the wall, and proceeded to dislodge the stones on both sides with regularity and precision, rolling them down so as to form a kind of solid arch out of the centre of the wall. Shins were cut, toes were smashed, spurs were bent, but the work went on, and at the end of three-quarters of an hour the way was declared to be practicable. The mules were taken out of the cart, and walked by a footpath round the rock; the heavy articles were unloaded, and then, with main strength, the cart was spoked up to the top of the mound of rocks and stones, after a desperate struggle, and then, with immense difficulty, was backed down to the road on the other side. Maybe the old tunnel did not re-echo three tremendous cheers when the work was over, and the mules emerged with their triumphant chariot! But our troubles were not half over. The French were uneasy at Phoros--they had scarped the road, and what they had spared, two winters of neglect had very nearly demolished. Before we moved six miles we executed, in addition to these labours, the following great public works, in order to get our cart over: No. 1. Built a wall to bank up the roadside at a precipice; No. 2. Filled up a crevice with brushwood and loose stone; No. 3. Made the road practicable with fascines; No. 4. Cut away hill-side, so as to widen the road by the side of a precipice where it had given way; No. 5. Unloaded cart and spoked it over a bad bit, and loaded it again.

"It is about twenty-two miles from the camp to Phoros pass, and our halting-place for the night is the ruined chateau of Isarkaia, which is about six miles from Phoros. We reached this secluded spot about seven o'clock in the evening. The walls and roof alone are left. The windows are smashed in, woodwork and all, and the only thing untouched in the place is a mangle in the kitchen. We stable our horses in the parlours and library, for all I know to the contrary, unpack the cart, and carry in saddles and bedding to the room designed for dining and sleeping. There are no boarded rooms, but the clay floor is soft, a fountain and a stream of water run hard by. The horses are groomed and supplied with hay and corn, and we prepare for dinner. A horrid announcement is made--'The Major has forgot to bring either kettle, gridiron, or saucepan! The tea and the sugar have got mixed! But that is no consequence.' What is to be done? Ingenious engineer suggests that my tinned iron dish shall be used as a frying-pan; carried _nem. con._ As to saucepan, some ingenious person drives two holes in a potted beef tin case, thrusts a piece of wood through them as handle, and proceeds to make soup therein over a blazing fire lighted up in one of the ruined fireplaces of the drawing-room. Just as soup is ready, handle burns through, and soup upsets into the fire, a disaster quite irretrievable, and so we proceed to devour tough ration-beef done in steaks on the tin dish. Sherry is forthcoming, bread, and preserved vegetables. Water is boiled in a small teapot, and produces enough for a temperate glass of grog; the blankets are spread on the floor, and preparations are made for sleep. First, however, the watch is appointed. Each man takes an hour in the alphabetical order of his name, from eleven to five o'clock, to watch the horses, to keep in the fire, and to guard against theft. The mangle is broken up for firewood. In doing so, the best made London axe, bought from an eminent saddler, flies in two at the first chop!--useful article for travelling! Odd legs of chairs and tables, bits of drawers, and dressers, and cupboards, are piled up for the same purpose, and our first watch is left on his post. We muster three double-barrelled guns and four revolvers between us, a total of thirty shots; the night passes quietly.

[Sidenote: TOILS BY THE WAY.]

"Below the walls of the house in which we encamped, buried amid orchards and vineyards, is a ruined villa with marble fountains and handsome rooms. It is pillaged and wrecked like the rest, but it tempts our party to plunge down through the brushwood and thick scrubby woods, interlaced with 'Christ's thorn' and long creepers, to the ledge on which it stands above the sea. The silence, broken only by the cry of the eagles which soar about the cliffs, the surge of the wave on the rocks, and the voices of the birds in the groves, is rather a source of pain than of pleasure. '_Malheur à la dévastation_' is inscribed on the walls. But who were the devastators? The Russians allege it was the Allies--the Tartars declare it was the Russians themselves. There are many who believe that these very Tartars had no small share in the plundering and wrecking of their taskmasters' and conquerors' summer palaces. We know from experience that on the march to Sebastopol, every village, every little villa and farmhouse, was sacked and destroyed by the enemy, and Bourliouk, Eskel, Mamashai, Belbek, &c., were in ruins before our outposts reached them. The evidence so far is against the Russians. As the walls and roofs of these houses are untouched, they look as picturesque and pretty from a distance as ever they did, and it is only on nearer approach that traces of the hand of the spoiler become visible.

"We had a very excellent breakfast, notwithstanding the extraordinary rich flavour of onions in the tea, which was accounted for by the circumstance that the water had been boiled in the soup-kettle. Some officers of the Guards who had followed us, and bivouacked near the post-house which we had passed on the road, came in as we were at 'our humble meal,' and relished their share of it exceedingly. Their cart pushed on in advance of ours, and as they profited by our labours of yesterday, so did we in a smaller degree (our cart was larger than theirs) reap the advantage of their preceding us part of the way to-day. We started about eleven o'clock, and our hard work soon commenced. Between the enemy, the French, and the winter, the road scarcely existed; it had been swept down into the ravine. However, our motto was '_vestigia nulla retrorsum_,' and the colonel, the major, the captain, the D.A.C.G., the civilians, and the soldiers, worked as if for their lives and succeeded, in the course of the day, in executing the following useful public works: No. 1. Road blocked up by rocks from mountain--cut down trees, made levers, and cleared the way--major's leg nearly broken, every one dirtied with wheel grease, finger-nails broken, hands cut, &c. No. 2. Road repaired by Guards (who left us a bit of paper on a stick to commemorate the fact) was found too narrow, the hill-side was dug-out, stones laid, and road extended. No. 3. Landslip--edge of the road gone. We built up a wall of stones to support the edge, and passed over triumphantly. No. 4. Were riding along at a smart pace down the road, which winds like a piece of tape (not red, but white) along the mountain side, when frantic cries from the next turn recalled us to our cart--found it had gone down over a gulley, shooting out beds and bundles some hundreds of feet below, and was lying right over in the mud of the aforesaid gulley atop of the wheel mule. No one hurt. Took off wheels, cut fastenings, and unharnessed mule, which escaped without a hurt, but was covered with mud; raised cart, carried up beds, &c., out of ravine; unpacked cart and carried baggage across bad parts of landslip; set cart on wheels, loaded it, and went on our way rejoicing.

"Just after this accident we met General Eyre and his staff, attended by a Russian officer and several Cossacks, on his way to Phoros. The gallant General had been round to Bakshiserai, Simpheropol, and Aloushta, and was just reversing our route, which our party had the honour of being the first to drag a cart over. The General had been assisted up to this point by a village full of Tartars, who were caught by the Russians, to get his cart over the bad places. No. 5. Came upon the Guards and their servants, who were busy mending the road where it was cut by a mountain water-course: aided them and ourselves; got over our cart first and preceded them on the road. No. 6. Cut fascines and filled in a gap in the road. Let it be understood, all this time, that there is the sea below us on the right, the quaint wall of cliffs, 600ft. or 700ft. high, on our left, and at times, as it were, toppling over on our heads, and a rugged slope of wood and vineyard dotted with villas between us and the beach. No. 7. Having come up to a party of Guardsmen who were bivouacking with some artillerymen on their way back to Baidar, we were told that the road was utterly impassable; it had been carried away by a landslip. Resolved to go on; soon afterwards repaired road, and proceeded cautiously through mud from the ice rills which had bored through and broken up the path in many places.

[Sidenote: SIMEIS TO ALOUPKA.]

"It was becoming late, and yet we had not got more than eight or nine miles from Asarkaia; and Aloupka, for which we were bound, was still as many miles ahead of us. The cliff at this part of the coast, which is somewhere between Kikineis and Limena, recedes further from the sea, and there is a considerable tract of hills from its base to the road. These hills are covered with brushwood, and our vedette in front reported to us that two round knobs, which, no doubt, served as heads to as many Cossacks, were visible in advance, amid the young foliage. As we approached, the knobs disappeared, but presently two lance-points peered above the rocks at the turn of the road, and in another moment or two we were in the presence of three mounted Cossacks of the Don, who by signs demanded our passes in a very civil and agreeable manner. As none of them could read, this formality seemed useless, but they gave us to understand by signs that one of our party must go to the officer of the post, and the Major and his interpreter were accordingly handed over to the care of an individual with one eye, and were out of sight very speedily. Our cart was ordered back, and it was explained that we had to drag it over the slope of the hills on our left, as the road before us had actually gone over the cliffs. Our friends were intelligent, good-looking young fellows, and while waiting for the Major we spent some time rather agreeably with them in a mutual examination of arms and interchange of tobacco. They wore heavy curved swords, without guards to the handles, in large sheaths of wood covered with leather. Their heads were covered with sheepskin caps, the top being formed of red cloth, and slightly conical in shape. Their coats were like those of the infantry of the line--long garments of grey cloth, fastened by a strap at the back, and their trousers were tucked into their boots _more Muscovitorum_. Each man had a long carbine slung over his shoulder, and I was rather surprised to observe that they had percussion locks. This armament was completed by a long and very light lance. The edges of their swords were as sharp as razors--their lance-points were equally keen. Their hair was closely cut, and they had the whiskerless cheek, the beardless chin, and the mustachioed lip of the "regulation." Their horses were barely fourteen hands high, and were high in the bone and low in the flesh, but their speed and endurance are undeniable. The Cossack rides high above his horse--he sits in the hollow of a saddle which looks like two pillars of black leather, at such a height that his heels are against the horse's flank, and when the animal trots, his rider's head is thrown forward over the shoulder, so that a right line let fall from his head would be in advance of his toes by some inches. The manes of the Cossack horses are very long, and their tails often sweep the ground. We soon found they were very quick walkers, and got over the ground with rapidity and ease.

"As the Major did not return, we concluded, after a long stay, that he was on the road before us, and we resolved to urge the cart over the hill. The Cossacks helped us in this (which was no easy matter) as soon as their comrade came back with an intimation, as we understood, which would be interpreted in English that 'it was all right.' The cart was once more unloaded, and its contents were dragged by us across the steep hill; then the cart was spoked up over the spongy ground, was loaded again, and the drivers were conducted to the road by the Cossacks, while we were shown a shorter cut, and descended under escort of our amiable, but strongly scented friends, down through shady ravines to the Tartar village of Simeis. Simeis, like all Tartar villages, is built by the side of a brook, which brawls pleasantly through a succession of little cascades as it leaps down from the mountains to the sea. The ravine in which the village is situate is shaded from the sun by enormous walnut and chestnut trees, and by the humbler branches of pear, apple, and peach trees. The houses are built on the slope in layers, with broad flat roofs, which are rendered watertight by a thick covering of sand and bitumen, and on looking down on it, or on any of the Tartar villages, not a house is visible; all that can be seen is a succession of little brown square patches with one hole in each, descending the slope in regular terraces, the backs being formed by the hill-side itself. In Simeis we were halted till the curiosity of a strong Cossack picket and some regulars was satisfied. About sixty men passed us in review, and then we were let to climb the hill up to the road, at which we found another Cossack waiting to relieve our silent friend who had so far accompanied us.

"It was getting dark; there was no sign of the Major; but, for a wonder, one of the Cossacks spoke German, and he told us an English officer was on in front. In a few moments our guide began to ride down a steep zigzag road towards the sea. The cart had come up all right, and we found we were on our way down to Aloupka, which is close to the sea-shore. The zigzag was as steep and sharp in its turns as any Swiss mountain path, and the horses, already tired by the nature of the day's journey, showed signs of distress very visibly. The descent lasted for an hour; it seemed a night; the young moon just lighted up the Cossack's white horse, and the feathery tips of tall poplars and branches of grey olive-trees and all else was in darkness. We heard the roar of the sea close at hand at last, and a low white building peered above the trees. We cantered into the open space before it by a nice avenue with a regular paling on each side. The Cossack dismounted, fastened up his horse, and went into the house, leaving us in profound ignorance and great hunger outside. The sounds of very noisy and drunken singing, which roused the night owls through the windows, led us to believe the house was a Cossack barrack, but after some time the door opened, and out came a brisk little man, who spoke good French, and a decent body, his wife, who astonished us with excellent English, and we found that we were at 'the hotel' at Aloupka. The cause of the noise was soon found. It was the work of a drunken Russian Colonel, chief of the police at Yalta, who had introduced himself to some English officers at that place, and had, in spite of them, accompanied them so far on their way to Phoros. '_Violà_,' said a little voice in our ears, as the door of the dining-room was opened,--'_Violà la noblesse Russe--il est noble parcequ'il est Colonel_.' The room in which we found ourselves was a comfortable apartment, with sofas and easy-chairs, engravings of Count Potocki, of the Czar (of course), of Prince Woronzoff, of very warm subjects from French burins, on the walls, and a table well covered with bottles and glasses. At the end of the table was seated a Russian officer, screaming at the top of his voice some inscrutable snatches of song, for which he prepared himself by copious doses of brandy, sherry, and Crim wine. He was offensively drunk, but the terror which he inspired in the landlord and landlady was not the less on that account, and was evidently only equalled by their hatred of him. We are told that the Russians read the London papers so diligently that they know everything that passes as well as we do ourselves. I do not wish to get our good host and his wife, or even the inebriated Muscovite, into a scrape, or I would relate a few particulars respecting their demeanour which might prove amusing. The Colonel of the Aloupka district, when he heard of the condition of his brother 'authority,' gave orders that he should be turned out, but these were not carried into effect till late in the evening. He spoke a little French, and I think he understood English, though he professed not to know a word.

"Our dinner consisted of salt meat and an _omelette au lard_, washed down with plenty of Crim wine. We had also a tin of preserved beef. It was very fat, and we all put away the excess of adipose matter on a plate, where it formed a pretty large pile. The Colonel, who had been eating the meat, suddenly seized upon this plate, and stuffed huge mouthfuls of the fat and grease down his throat on the point of a knife with infinite gusto. A Cossack brought us in our passes. In spite of his standing at attention, the man's look betrayed a feeling of greater disgust at the Colonel's condition than I should have given him credit for. Our horses, which were put in a distant stable, could only be fed by the intervention of some others of our Dons, who also undertook to guard them all right--'the Greeks were such robbers.' Our beds were clean and comfortable, and we slept well till morning, although the Colonel kicked up at intervals a dreadful row outside.

[Sidenote: THE ALMA REVISITED.]

"Distance lends enchantment to the view of Prince Woronzoff's palace from the sea. Hence it seems a splendid combination of Tartar and Norman architecture, donjons and keeps, and battlemented walls, strangely intermingling with minarets and the dome of a mosque. It is quite close to our hotel, and is approached by a beautiful walk, like the back lodge avenue in an English estate. The path is marked by a wooden paling, inside which are olives and fruit-trees and evergreens, and immense chestnut and walnut trees and silvery poplars. We pass a quiet chateau with a verandah and terraced front. It was the Prince's residence before he built his palace, and it is now used as a summer retreat by his son. The furniture is simple and handsome, and there is a beautiful view from the windows. A Russian servant (the only one we saw about the place) readily showed us over the premises.

"From Aloupka we continued our course by the coast as far as the village of Alushta, whence we turned off towards the north, crossing the Tchater Dagh and descending to Simpheropol. From that town we made our way to Bakshiserai, and so home to camp."