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 stupendouscrags, 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; carriednem. 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.
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.
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 bootsmore 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. TheCossack 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 regularpaling 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 anomelette 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.
THE ALMA REVISITED.
"Distance lends enchantment to the view of Prince Woronzoff'spalace 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."
Visits to the Alma—Aspect of the Locality—Criticisms on the Battle—Conflicting Statements—Memorials of departed Heroes.
Visits to the Alma—Aspect of the Locality—Criticisms on the Battle—Conflicting Statements—Memorials of departed Heroes.
EREI left the Crimea I went twice to the Alma, and examined the battle-ground. I shall reproduce my account of the excursion in the language in which it was written at the time. "The road from the plateau, on which for one long year the hopes and fears and anxieties of civilized Europe were concentrated, leads down from the ridge on which the battle of Inkerman was mainly fought to the deep ravine out of which the materials for the mansions, quays, harbours, docks, and forts of Sebastopol have been hewed. It presents a wild and desolate aspect. The graves of the slain are numerous. The slabs of oolite tower perpendicularly for several hundred feet on the right hand and the left to the verge of the elevated plateau, and rise, like great white walls of masonry, aloft from a base of huge blocks and disintegrated masses of the same substance. This ravine, deepening as it descends, falls at right angles to the valley through which the Tchernaya eats its way to the head of the Roads of Sebastopol. At the lower end of the ravine the aqueduct spans it, and then is carried on a light and handsome bridge of masonry, supported on some ten or twelve arches right across, and disappears in a tunnel through the solidrock on the left-hand side. Passing underneath, through one of the arches, you find yourself by the banks of the sluggish Tchernaya, and a ride of 500 yards or so past the perpendicular cliffs, perforated with caves, which bound the margin of the valley, leads you to the causeway across the marsh towards Inkerman. An excellent wooden bridge, built by our engineers, stretches across the river, and the marsh beyond is crossed by a high causeway. At the near end are our guard-tents; and the pass is kept by the Russian and English sentries, who seem on very good terms with each other. Arrived at the end of the causeway, the cliffs of northern Inkerman are above you, and the road winds up to a ravine which leads you to their recesses. A curious chapel and monkery in the caves are visible in the face of the cliff. Embrasures are above, before, and on each side of you on entering these fastnesses. The black pupils of these dull eyes have been removed, but there is enough of the works left to show how hot and frequent they could have flashed on you in their anger. There are five batteries on various points of this ravine, and the slopes of the plateau afford many fine sites for field artillery or guns of position. The road is good. On the right, about a mile from the entrance of the ravine, are numerous deep shafts in the clay, from, which the Russians draw their supply of water. The road winds gradually upwards till it leads you to the level of the north plateau of Inkerman, just as the Quarries road took you down from the south plateau to the level of the valley of the Tchernaya, from which you are now ascending. Here is the Russian camp, at which we have so often gazed from the heights on the right of our position. It is now very much altered in appearance. The huts have been abandoned, and the men are living in a very pretty, clean, and well-kept camp of canvas, but the purlieus are very dirty, and have the usual disagreeable smell of Russian quarters. The tents are square in shape, and at the top, which tapers to a point from the side of the wall, there is a knob, gilt or painted, which gives them an air of finish. The path or streets of the camp are bordered with wild flowers and fir branches. The regiments stationed here belong to the Seventh Division, which forms the First Division of the thirdcorps d'armée, and are, as well as I could ascertain, the 13th (Smolensko) and 14th (Politsch), and number about 6,000 men. There is a brigade of field artillery—two batteries—close to this camp, and the pieces are very well kept, and in excellent condition.
THE ALMA REVISITED.
"The cantonments extend as far as the heights over the valley of the Belbek on the left-hand side, and could have contained about 18,000 men, which considerably exceeds the strength of the whole of the Seventh Division. A steep road descending from the verge of the plateau, at the point where the Russian bazaar is established, leads to the Belbek, which is crossed by two bridges. One of these is a fine, well-built new structure of wood; the other is that by which the army crossed in the flank march, and the post-house near which Sir George Cathcart took up his quarters still remains intact. The Fourth Division bivouacked here the nightbefore we entered Balaklava, when Lord Raglan slept at Traktir, on the Tchernaya, and Sir George was very uneasy, on account of his isolated position, separated, as he was, from the rest of the army, and believing that a body of Russians intervened between them. It was from this that General Windham rode with despatches to the Katcha, anticipating Commander Maxse's arrival from the Tchernaya by more than half an hour, and from this neighbourhood the army turned towards Mackenzie. Lord Raglan reconnoitred Sebastopol from a hillock close to the road on the right, a short time before we fell in with the rear-guard and baggage of the enemy. The village of the Belbek is greatly changed since then—the trees have been cut down, and the valley, once so beautiful, blooms no more. The villas have been used as hospitals, and there are many Russian graves, marked with black wooden crosses, in the neighbouring ravines. From this valley you ascend another steep hill to the top of the plateau which lies between it and the valley of the Katcha. The ground is covered with dwarf trees and thick brushwood, full of lizards and small birds, which are persecuted by numerous falcons and hawks. There are patches of naked ground and ashes scattered over the plateau, which show where parties of the enemy were encamped; but the country is not suited for large bodies of men, as water is not to be had except at the rivers. The plateau is intersected by numerous woody ravines, and the tracks followed by the allied armies are plainly visible. They have been much used by the Russians.
"A ride of three-quarters of an hour takes us to the valley of the Katcha, still beautiful and rich with verdure, for this part of it is too far from the immediate operations of war, and too much out of the track from Bakshiserai, to have suffered much. The place which we approach was once the village of Eskel; it is now in ruins. The Tartar houses are pulled down or unroofed; the population have fled; and the Russian houses are just as they were left by the Cossacks on our approach after the Alma. The church gleams brightly through the dense branches of the fruit-trees, which are covered with blossoms, but the large tracts of vineyards which welcomed us nearly three years ago, are now uncultivated. The Doctor's house is in a sad plight—one of the first we entered after the Alma—and is still the picture of neglect and ruin. Lord Raglan's comfortable residence is in the custody of an old Tartar, who shows the broken furniture, the sofas ripped open, the chairs smashed, and the beds cut up, with great pride, and leads one to infer pretty plainly that Ruskie did all the mischief. It was at this village that the Russians halted to recover breath after their headlong flight from the Alma, and from it they fled the same night in panic on the cry being raised that the Allies were coming.
"The Katcha is a deep narrow stream with rotten banks, and some people think it would have afforded a better position than the Alma; but, in fact, it is too near Sebastopol. We found a few Russian soldiers in the houses; and on the first occasion it happened to be the Greek Easter Sunday, and we were mosthospitably entertained by a poor Russian family, who insisted on our partaking of painted eggs, of salt pork steeped in vinegar, and cabbage, of brown bread, butter, vodka, or white home-made brandy, and Crim tobacco, and then on embracing us because we were Christians—a severe punishment, which, if often repeated, might lead to recantation. Crossing the Katcha by the bridge over which our army filed into Eskel, we find ourselves on the steppe—the dry barren plain studded with tumuli, which extends in wavy folds right away to Perekop. At this season of the year it is glorious with large beds of wild flowers, sweet-pea, roses, mignonette, thyme, orchids of all kinds, sweet-william, and many other varieties, whose tame and developed species are the ornaments of our gardens at home; it is musical, too, with the song of birds singing to their mates in the nest; but in September it is an arid, scorched waste, covered with coarse hay, and as it is devoid of water, it is unfit for pasturage. The ride to the Alma from the Katcha is not more than eight miles, but it seems twice the distance. The white telegraph station over the river, which stood on the Russian left, can be seen for many miles on a clear day, but on the steppe mirage is very common, and the horizon is rarely well defined. It is often lost in a fantastic margin resembling the sealine of an agitated ocean. Bustards, on thequi viveabout their young ones, soar slowly before us, and eagles, vultures, and many species of falcons are visible in pursuit of their prey, which must consist for the most part of hares, which are very large and numerous. Some of these hares have been found to weigh ten or twelve pounds, and I have heard of a monster who turned the scale at fourteen pounds. In one of the hollows in the steppe, about three miles from the Alma, there is a small hamlet, but, with this exception, not a habitation is visible over the whole of this vast expanse of land. It is famous ground for a long canter, or as much of a gallop as your horse will stand; so with the help of an occasional scurry after a hare the distance melts away, and as we go crashing through the sweet flowers, the telegraph rises higher and clearer till we pull up at the foot of the mound on which it stands. This was the scene of a fierce struggle, and it was here the French had some really hard fighting before they forced the enemy to fly.
THE ALMA REVISITED.
"The telegraph is a quadrilateral figure of white stone, and it has never been finished. It is covered with names; and one side is engraved 'La Bataille d'Alma, 8 Septembre.' The French had put the right date, the 20th; but the Russians obliterated it, and altered it to their own style. There are fifteen large sepulchral mounds around the telegraph, wherein lie French and Russians, and the ravines are still full of bones, and of fragments of clothing and accoutrements. Cannon-shot appear to have been carefully removed. There is an excellent view of the French position and attack from the edge of the plateau. The enemy must have had every movement of the Allies under their eyes from the time they left Bouljanak till they halted to form for battle; and the spectacle could not have been one to have given them much courage, or to have inflamed their ardour. The Russians declare they had only33,000 or 34,000 on the field; but, admitting that to be so, they made a bad fight, considering the position they occupied, and their cavalry exhibited that passive and unenterprising character which it maintained throughout the war. An officer of the old Pestal regiment told me that he charged our first attacking body when they were checked with the bayonet, and that if all the troops inside and on the flanks of the redoubts had rushed out simultaneously, the day would have been lost to us; but he was rather surprised when he heard that our Third and Fourth Divisions were still intact, and that the Guards, whom he supposed to have been routed, were never broken except in the centre, where the Scots Fusiliers wavered for a time in their advance under the heavy fire of the Russians and the pressure of the disjointed groups of the Light Division. The French are disposed to think that the English were too slow in beginning the attack, which it was agreed should not take place till our allies had gained the left of the Russian position. It is certain that Lord Raglan received one, if not two, pressing messages from Marshal St. Arnaud to hasten his columns: but one may ask how it was that here, as everywhere else, the honour of taking the initiative was ceded to our allies, and the opportunity given to them of saying 'The English were too late.' They only numbered 23,000, whereas we had 27,000. If it resulted from their position on our right, why did they take the left when we halted before Sebastopol?
"The assaults on the place were made on the same principle—the French first, the English afterwards; and, whether it be true or false that we were 'too late,' there can be no doubt there was from the beginning a tendency to say so. It is beyond question, in the opinion of many officers, that the Light Division were not followed closely enough by the First in their advance up the hill at the Alma. In other words, the latter were too slow or 'too late.' The French did their part admirably, and their intelligence and personal activity were wonderfully displayed in their progress up the steep ravines and sides of the high banks of the plateau, but their loss in killed and wounded was under 700 men, while ours was just 2,000. The Admiral Bouet Willaumez, in his recent so-called 'History of the French Navy,' distinctly avers that the English General would not permit the victory to be followed up by marching next day, and that the French were retarded by their allies. A different impression prevails in our army; but this is one of the points which must be cleared up for history by those who were in the confidence of Lord Raglan. The statement, at all events, shows what was the belief of thechef d'état majorof the French navy in the Black Sea. Of the necessity and of the motives for the delay, of its results, of the practicability of getting such aid from the fleet as would have relieved us entirely from the charge of sick, wounded, and prisoners, I shall not speak; but it is to be remarked that the feebleness and imbecility of our arrangements in this portion of our administration became apparent at the very first pressure by the abandonment of our ambulances just at the very time they were most needed, by the disgraceful exhibition of theKangaroocrowded with sick and wounded till she had to make the signal that she was unmanageable and unsafe in the sight of the whole fleet, by the sufferings of her miserable cargo, left to the charge of one surgeon, who could not attend to a tithe of his patients, and who could not even get at them if he could have dressed their wounds, and by the foolish and cruel expedient of leaving another surgeon, Dr. Thompson, and his servant on the field to take care of 700 wounded men. Dr. Thompson felt the hopelessness and positive cruelty of such a proceeding, and remonstrated against it, but he was told it had been 'ordered,' and that if the 'Cossacks' came down his 'professional character' would protect him.
"The battle of the Alma was one of the most brilliant in the world—the shortest and sharpest, and our army, young in action, but veteran in service, displayed the best qualities of British infantry. We have since heard of the incredulity, of the dismay, with which the news was received in St. Petersburg, and of the subsequent eagerness of the Russian army to avenge the defeat and to hurry to the Crimea, to drive the Allies into the sea. They found a barrier they could not break at Inkerman; but they are a people prone to put faith in their own invincibility, and slow to credit defeat. They believe in themselves yet. The position of the Alma is so well marked that it can never be mistaken by any future visitors. The French attacked the steep and almost perpendicular cliffs, which are broken here and there by ravines which mount upwards from the river. Their columns were divided from our regiments by the most marked and extensive of those ravines, and eastward of that boundary the whole of the ground suddenly falls, and, instead of rising abruptly from the Alma, gains the high level of the hills by a series of sweeping undulations, offering many positions for guns, with extensive glacis to the front.
PEACEFUL EXPLORATIONS.
"Descending from the plateau, some of our party crossed the bridge, and went out on the plain towards Bouljanak to the tumuli which stud the plains, and which denote the extreme range of the Russian guns. On turning round towards the south, the eye takes in the whole scene of battle, from the sea on the right to the low slopes which formed the right of the Russian position. Their left was separated from their right by a deep ravine running at right angles toward the Alma, and this ravine also is the boundary between the high and steep cliffs which, on the south bank, overhang the tortuous course of the Alma from the ford to the sea, and the gentler rising grounds on which the enemy's left lay, strengthened by the epaulements and by the mass of the Russian artillery. It will then be seen how the Russian left depended on the nature of the ground as its best defence, and what a fatal mistake Menschikoff committed when he omitted to take into consideration the effect of the fire of the ships. That fire soon drove back their left, and forced it to reform on the centre, which it put into confusion, and the French, ascending by the ravines with the utmost courage and activity, made good their footing on the right and turned the Russian left completely, with comparatively little loss.The advance of our allies was covered to a great extent by the thick foliage on the banks of the Alma, and the cliffs are so high and rotten that the enemy's guns could not be used with success against them. The course of the river is much further from the base of these cliffs than it is from the slopes on the Russian right, where the British attacked, so that it would be scarcely commanded by guns on the top of the plateau; whereas, we were under fire for several hundred yards before we reached the Alma at all.
"A mound, composed of fifteen graves, at the distance of 400 or 500 yards from the river on its north side, denotes the resting-place of those who fell before the army crossed the stream, or who died after the fight in the ambulances. The road by which we advanced to the bridge was just as it was on the 20th of September, and on the right, close to the stream, were the blackened ruins of the village of Bourliouk. It will be remembered that the enemy partially destroyed the bridge, but that it was repaired during the action by the Royal Engineers and a party of Sappers and Miners. The bridge has been substantially rebuilt, by means of a strong wooden way thrown across the stone arches, and supported by beams and uprights. The old post-house, on the right of the road before you come to the bridge, was about being reconstructed, and a guard of soldiers were lodged in its ruins. It will be, to all appearances, a handsome house of fine white freestone when it is finished. I surveyed its ruins with peculiar interest, for I know a person very intimately who took shelter in this house, part of which was on fire, to get out of a fire still hotter, till he was driven out by a shell falling through the roof, and it was at the wall outside, which was yet torn by shot, that I met the first two wounded officers I saw that day—two officers of the 30th, one hit through the chest or side; the other wounded, I think, in the leg or arm. They were helping each other from the river, bleeding and weak, and I was fortunate enough to be able to bring to their aid a Staff surgeon, belonging, I believe, to the Cavalry Division, who kindly examined their wounds under fire. Close to this I had previously seen the first man killed—a drummer, who was carrying a litter, and who was struck by a round shot which bowled slowly along the road and hit him, with a peculiar squashing sound, on the hip. He fell, and never moved; nor did his comrade, who was carrying the other end of the litter, stop to mourn over his death.
"After the intrepid rush of the Light Division up the hill, its wavering, its broken and unwilling halt, the bold advance of Pennefather's Brigade, and the billow-like march of the Guards, I pressed on immediately in the rear of the Light, and in front of the Third Division, and I was able to warn Colonel Waddy, as he approached at the head of the 50th, that he was moving right along the line of fire of the enemy's guns, and, as there was a very conclusive proof given of the correctness of the statement just as I spoke, that gallant officer moved off his men, who were in dense column, a little to the left, and got off the road to the fields. All these things and many more came back upon me as I lookedaround. I could recall that narrow road filled with dead and dying—old friends jesting at scars and wounds, and exulting in victory, and awaiting with patience the arrival of men to carry them away to the surgeons—a white-haired field-officer (of the 55th), whose name I don't know, badly wounded through the body, who could only moan bitterly, 'Oh, my poor men! oh, my poor men! they hadn't a chance;' then the river stained here and there with blood, still flowing from the dead and dying who lay on the shallows and the banks, lined nevertheless by hundreds, who drank its waters eagerly; the horrid procession of the dripping litters going to the rear of the fight; the solid mass of Adams' brigade, halted by Lord Raglan's orders as it emerged from the smoke of Bourliouk: the Staff itself and the Commander-in-Chief, gathered on the rising ground close by; that ghastly battle-field where so many lay in so small a place putrescent with heat and wounds; the grey blocks of Russians melting away like clouds, and drifted off by the fierce breath of battle; the shriek and rush of the shells from the brass howitzers in the battery, the patter of the rifle, the rattling roll of the musketry, the frantic cheers of our men as they stood victors on the heights, drowning the groans and cries which for a moment succeeded the roar of battle; the shrill flourish of the French bugles, and the joyous clamour of their drums from the other side of the ravine—all came back upon the ear again, and the eye renewed its pleasure as it gazed from the ridge upon the plain where it had before seen the Russians flying in disorder, with their rear still covered by the threatening squadrons of their cavalry. Then one recalled the spot where one had seen some friend lying dead, or some one—friend or foe—whom it were no mercy to strive to keep alive. Watkin Wynn, stretched on the ground in front of the trench, with a smile on his face—Chester, with a scornful frown, and his sword clenched in the death grasp—Monck, with the anger of battle fixed on every feature—these and many another friend in the peaceful camp of Aladyn or Devno rose up as they lived in the memory. The scowling Russians who glared so fiercely on their conquerors and seemed to hate them even as they supplied their wants, then seen for the first time, left an impression respecting the type of the Muscovite character which has scarcely been effaced now that they have ceased to be enemies. I recalled the two days passed as no army ought to pass two days—on the field of battle amid the dead—the horrid labours of those hours of despondency and grief where all should have been triumph and rejoicing, and the awakened vigour with which the army broke from its bivouac on the Alma and set out with no certain aim, no fixed project, on its chance march which fate made successful.
THE ALMA REVISITED.
"The intrenchment can be distinctly seen for a mile north of the river. It is placed half-way down the slope of the little hill-side. There were no other works, trenches, redoubts, or field-works of any description except one more epaulement and a few sods of earth turned up to afford cover to a few skirmishers; and all the accounts of such defences filled with riflemen and guns which have beenmade public were erroneous. The enemy had very few riflemen, and the ground, except on the extreme left, was of such a nature that good cover for guns could be had for the seeking. For many years to come the battle-field is likely to remain as it is now, the only difference being that the vines which flourished on the 20th of September, 1854, and which are now destroyed, may be cultivated once more. On ascending from the river towards the intrenchment, you find yourself on the left completely covered by a rise of the hill in front from the parapet, so that men could form in this hollow for the attack, without being exposed to fire; but the Russians, aware of this, sent down on their extreme right large bodies of infantry, who fired at the Left Brigade of the Light Division as they were trying to get into order after crossing the river.
"On the right, nearer to the bridge, the ground is more exposed to guns from the parapet of the trench, and on advancing a few yards the fair open glacis, gently sloping upwards to their muzzles, gives a terrible solution of the reason why for a time the Light Division was held in check, and lost in a few moments upwards of 1,000 men. At the base of this glacis, and scattered along the ridge towards the river, are mounds of earth about thirty feet long by fifteen in breadth, which are covered with large stones and slabs of slate. There are fifteen or sixteen of these mounds, and many of them contain the remains of friends and foes. Some small black wooden crosses are placed here and there among these mounds, which rise to the height of two or three feet above the level of the plain, and are all covered with rank vegetation and wild flowers. The parapet of the work is still about three feet outside, and a foot deeper in the trench inside. Near the centre is placed a handsome monument of white stone, with the following inscription:—