Chapter XXVI: Part 26

The breaches were to have been stormed at daylight on the 24th, at which time the tide was out, and the troops were formed in readiness; but the houses at the back of the breach being on fire, it was supposed they would prevent the advance of the troops when they had gained the summit, and in consequence the order was countermanded.

The next night a trench was opened in advance of the parallel, to contain a firing party on the hornwork, during the assault.

The assault was ordered to take place at daylight on the 25th; the storming party, about 2,000 men, were to assemble in the trenches, and the explosion of the mine was to be the signal to advance.

The distance of the uncovered approach, from the trenches to the breach, was about three hundred yards, in face of an extensive front of works, over very difficult ground, consisting of rocks covered with sea-weed, and intermediate pools of water; the fire of the place was yet entire, and the breach was flanked by two towers, which, though considerably injured, were still occupied.

At five A.M. the mine was sprung, and destroyed a considerable length of the counterscarp and glacis, and created so much astonishment in the enemy posted on the works near to it, that they abandoned them for the moment, and the advance of the storming party reached the breach before any great fire was brought to bear on them: on their attempting to ascend the breach, the enemy opened so heavy a fire, and threw down such a number of shells, &c., from the towers on the flanks, and from the summit of the breaches, that the men began to waver, and in a short time the assaulting party had returned into the trenches, with the loss of nearly one hundred killed and four hundred wounded.

The advanced guard, with Lieutenant Jones, who led them, were made prisoners on the breach; of the other engineers, Captain Lewis was severely wounded, and Lieutenant Machell was killed. Lieutenant-Colonel Sir R. Fletcher was wounded at the same time in the trenches.

This assault does not appear to have failed from want of exertion, but from the fire of the place being left entire, and from the great distance at which the covered approaches were from the breach; the troops were stated in the _Gazette_ to have done their duty, but that it was beyond the power of gallantry to overcome the difficulties opposed to them.

On this failure being reported to Lord Wellington, he came over from Lesaca, and decided upon renewing the same mode of attack, but on a much more extended scale, as soon as sufficient guns and ammunition should arrive from England; the augmentation to the attack was to extend the breach on the left to the salient angle of the demi-bastion of the main front, and from batteries to be established on the left of the attack, to continue it round the whole of its face, and to the end of the high curtain above it.

On the 27th of July, at seven A.M., the enemy made a sortie, to feel the guard of the trenches; they surprised it, and entering the parallel at the left, swept it to the right, carrying into the place two hundred prisoners. In consequence of this loss, the guard was concentrated in a small portion of the left of the parallel, and the right of the trenches was only occasionally patrolled.

On the 28th of July, Marshal Soult attacked Lord Wellington, in the hope of relieving Pampeluna, and the result of the action not being known to Sir Thomas Graham, he, on the 29th, embarked all the artillery and stores at Los Passages, and sent the transports to sea; the siege was therefore converted into a blockade, the guard continuing to hold the trenches.

August 3rd, the enemy surprised a patrol in the parallel, and made it prisoners.

On the 6th the guns and stores were re-landed at Los Passages, and on the 18th the additional artillery and ammunition arrived from England.

On the 24th the entire of the trenches was again occupied, and the siege recommenced.

On the left, two additional batteries for thirteen guns, to breach the face of the left demi-bastion and the curtain above it, at seven hundred yards’ distance, were commenced, and on the right, cover was begun for seven additional howitzers, four sixty-eight-pounder carronades, twenty-one twenty-four-pounders, and sixteen mortars, being forty-eight pieces of ordnance, in addition to the thirty-two put in battery for the previous operation.

At midnight the enemy made a sortie, entered the advanced part of the trenches, and carried confusion into the parallel; in attempting, however, to sweep along its right, they were checked by a part of the guard of the trenches, and obliged to retire, carrying off with them about twelve prisoners.

At eight A.M. of the 26th of August, the batteries opened. On the isthmus, the thirteen guns were directed to breach the left demi-bastion of the main front, and the end of the curtain in continuation of the old breach, and the face of the left demi-bastion of the hornwork, which were all seen in a line, one above the other.

The fire of the batteries on the right was directed to breach the two towers, one on each flank of the old breach, and to continue that breach to the salient angle of the demi-bastion, and to breach the end of the curtain above it.

Two shafts were sunk to form galleries, to prevent the enemy mining under the advanced part of the trenches. In the night between the 26th and the 27th, the two last-erected batteries being at a long distance to breach, and not seeing the foot of the escarpes, cover was made for four of the guns in a preferable situation.

A party of two hundred men was landed this night on the high rocky island of Sta Clara, and made prisoners of the enemy’s guard on it, consisting of an officer and twenty-four men.

In the night between the 27th and 28th of August, the enemy made a sortie; but, profiting by past experience, such precautions had been taken of posting sentinels, &c., and the men were so prepared to stand to their arms, that they were immediately repulsed, without effecting the slightest mischief.

On the 29th of August a battery opened on the face of the demi-bastion of the main front; the eighteen-pounders and the howitzers were turned on the enemy’s batteries, and several mortars and the carronades at the right attack were directed to the same object, and in the course of the day the enemy’s fire was nearly subdued. It was afterwards ascertained that they lost many men, particularly by the spherical case-shot, which they endeavoured to imitate, by firing common shells filled with small balls, and bursting them over the heads of the troops, but without any effect.

The breaches appearing good and practicable on the 30th, it was deemed time to prepare the necessary debouches for the troops: at the advanced sap on the right, to break through the sea-wall, which was of masonry, four feet thick and ten feet above the level of high water, three shafts were commenced, the first close at the back of the wall, the second twenty-five feet from the wall, and the third forty feet from the second: they were sunk eight feet below the surface of the ground, and a small return made to contain the powder; they were then each loaded with five hundred and forty pounds of powder.

At two A.M. the next morning, the three mines were sprung, and blew the wall completely down. The diameters of the entonnoirs were about thirty feet; they were immediately connected, and by ten A.M. formed a good passage out for troops, and accomplished the original object of securing all the works in their rear from the effects of any galleries the enemy might have run out to form mines in that direction. At the time of low water, about eleven A.M., the columns for the assault moved out of the trenches by the openings in front of the battery, and in a few minutes after the advance of the forlorn hope, the enemy exploded two mines, which blew down part of the sea-line wall; but as the troops were not in very close order, nor very near the wall, their loss was not great.

From the Mirador and Battery del Principe, on the castle, a fire of grape and shells was opened on the column, and continued during the time they were disputing the breach. The main curtain, even to the end breached, was strongly occupied by grenadiers, and the left branch of the hornwork was well manned, and from thence a heavy fire was maintained on the breach, a great part of which was exposed to it; but the tower of Amozquita, on the left of the breach, fortunately for the besieged, was not manned.

Up the end of the curtain, the breach was accessible quite to the _terreplein_; but the enemy’s situation there was commanding, and the ascent was much exposed to the fire of the hornwork.

At the back of the whole of the rest of the breach was a perpendicular fall, from fifteen to twenty-five feet in depth, under which were the ruins of the houses which joined on to the back of the breach; and here and there was left an end wall of the houses, by which alone it was possible to descend. A line of retrenchment carried along the nearest standing parallel walls, was strongly occupied by the enemy, and which entirely swept the confined summit of the breach.

The storming parties advanced to the breach, and there remained on the side of it without being able to crown the top, from the heavy fire from the intrenched ruins within. Many desperate efforts were made to gain it, without effect, particularly up to the curtain; but the enemy maintained that post firmly. Fresh troops were sent on successively, as fast as they could be filed out of the trenches, with laudable perseverance; and the Portuguese, in two detachments, forded the river Urumea, near its mouth, in a very handsome style, under a heavy fire of grape and musketry.

The breach was now covered with troops remaining in the same unfavourable situation, and unable to gain the summit. Upwards of two hours of continued exertion had elapsed, when, by a happy chance, a quantity of combustibles exploded within the breach, and the French began to waver; the assailants made fresh efforts; the ravelin and left branch of the hornwork were abandoned by the enemy; the retrenchment within the breach was soon after deserted by them; and the men by degrees got over the ruins and gained the curtain.

The troops, being now assembled in great numbers on the breach, pushed into the town; the garrison, dispirited at its great loss, and intimidated at the perseverance shown in sending fresh men, was quickly driven from all its entrenchments, except the convent of St. Teresa, into the castle.

From the superior height of the curtain, the artillery in the batteries on the right of the Urumea were able to keep up a fire on that part during the assault, without injury to the troops at the foot of the breach, and being extremely well served, it occasioned a severe loss to the enemy, and probably caused the explosion which led to the final success of the assault.

The assailants had upwards of five hundred killed and fifteen hundred wounded; of the garrison, besides the actual killed and wounded during the assault, seven hundred were made prisoners in the town. Of the engineers, Lieutenant-colonel Sir R. Fletcher, Captains Rhodes and Collyer, were killed; and Lieutenant-colonel Burgoyne, and Lieutenants Barry and Marshall, were wounded.

As soon as the town was carried, a communication was made from the left of the parallel to the salient angle of the ditch of the ravelin, through the counterscarp, which was blown in, and so into the town by the great gate; and preparations were made to reduce the castle.

The plan for the attack was to erect batteries on the works of the town, and breach some of the main points of the castle defences, as the battery de la Reyna, the Mirador, and the keep, as well as the thin loop-holed walls connecting them.

On the 2nd of September, a new battery for seventeen guns was commenced, occupying the whole terreplein of the hornwork, and another for three guns on the left of the cask redoubt.

A discussion for surrender was entered into with General Rey, but he broke it off.

By the 4th of September, the town, which caught fire soon after the assault, from the quantity of ammunition and combustibles of all sorts scattered about, was nearly consumed, and the fire became a great impediment to carrying the approaches forward.

Up to the 7th, the enemy had fired but very little since the assault; and by this evening, the roofs of the unburnt houses and steeples had been prepared for musketry, to open at the time of the assault on the castle.

On the 8th, at ten A.M., all the batteries opened on the castle; viz.,--from the left of the attack:--No. 7, with three twenty-four pounders, against the Mirador; No. 8, with three eighteen-pounders, against the lower defences; No. 9, with seventeen twenty-four pounders, against the Mirador and battery de la Reyna; island, with two twenty-four pounders and one eight-inch howitzer, to sweep the back of the castle. From the right of the attack, thirty-three pieces of ordnance against the castle generally. The fire was extremely powerful and well-directed, ploughing up every part of the confined space of the castle. The enemy kept concealed chiefly in little narrow trenches, which they had made along the front of the heights, but they evidently lost many men. About twelve, a white flag was hoisted, and the garrison surrendered prisoners of war. Their numbers had been reduced to 80 officers and 1,756 men, of whom, 23 officers and 512 men were in the hospital.

The loss of the besiegers during the attack was,--53 officers and 898 men killed; 150 officers and 2,340 men wounded; 7 officers and 332 men missing.

There were used at this siege 2,726 gabions, 1,476 eighteen-feet fascines, and 20,000 sand-bags.

The expenditure of ammunition during the siege was,--

Round shot { 24-pounders 43,367 } 52,670
{ 18-pounders 9,303 }

Grape shot 24-pounders 2,094 2,094

{ 24-pounders 1,930 }
Spherical shells { 18-pounders 150 } 4,278
{ 8-inch 2,198 }

Common shells { 10-inch 3,755 } 11,521
{ 8-inch 7,766 }
------
Total shot and shells 70,563

Powder, whole barrels, 90 lbs. each 5,579[21]

SIEGE OF ANTWERP.

A.D. 1830.

This siege, although it took place at a distance of fifteen years from its cause, was the result of one of the many political errors of the treaty of Vienna. Nothing could be more unwise and short-sighted than to expect a peaceful union between Belgium and Holland, and particularly of so strict a nature as that union in some of its features was composed. Although near neighbours, the Belgians and the Dutch are widely different: different in language, institutions, blood, and traditions. The union likewise, instead of being cemented by conciliation, was rendered galling by oppressive enactments; the monarch reigning over both countries was the king of Holland, and the proceedings of the courts of law were commanded to be carried on in the language of that country, so that Belgium appeared more like a conquered province than a willing partner in a union brought about for the benefit of both. If the union of England with Scotland had been carried on upon the principle of the one we are speaking of, the animosities and heart-burnings would never have subsided; we have had two invasions or rebellions, as it is, in which that country has taken part against us, although we form part of the same island. The Belgians have more of the character of the French or the Germans than of the Dutch; they are as industrious, ingenious, and mercantile as the Dutch; but they are more chivalric in their traditions; which feeling is kept alive by their splendid mediæval monuments, by their noble history, and by the Catholic religion; and, however science, and the progress of general knowledge, may soften down the asperities which separate neighbouring peoples, no nation, capable of good, willingly parts from its traditions. In short, the Belgians were not a people to sink willingly into a secondary state, particularly under the Dutch, with whom they felt themselves perfectly able to dispute the question, and were ripe for insurrection, if so it can be called, when the French revolution of 1830 set the minds of all Europeans labouring under real or fancied wrong in a state of ferment. The Belgians rose _en masse_; one place after another fell into the hands of the provisional government; Prince Frederick was shamefully and unaccountably repulsed from Brussels; and little remained to the house of Nassau, except the splendidly fortified city of Antwerp.

Disheartened and disgusted by the failure of his brother, the prince of Orange--who acted for his father, King William--hastened to Antwerp. He threw himself with honest energy into the cause, in the hope of maintaining the sway of his house over Belgium, and, at the same time, of serving the Belgians and responding to their views. He affected to act for himself, and offered to become their independent ruler; but it was evident that he was governed by orders from the Hague, and that the command of the army was still in the hands of his brother Frederick and General Chassé. An ill-timed royal proclamation and summons of the Dutch to arms, which designated the southern provinces _rebels_, completed the want of confidence in the prince, and rendered all his efforts nugatory--even his proclamation to place himself at the head of the movement. The provisional government contemptuously rejected all acknowledgment of authority in the Dutch--they, the people, were, they said, at the head of their own movement, and they wanted no other. Treated with scorn by the Belgians, crossed in his views of conciliation by his father, and his authority disputed by General Chassé, the prince, with a bleeding heart, was compelled to abandon all hope, and bade adieu to the Belgian provinces in a short but affecting address. Chassé placed Antwerp in a state of siege on the 24th of October.

On the 22nd of October, the patriots, forming an irregular body of about five thousand men, with sixteen guns, had commenced a simultaneous movement upon the line occupied by the royal troops, who were about seven thousand strong, with forty pieces of artillery. On the 25th the insurgent army arrived under the walls of Antwerp, and some hard fighting took place in the suburbs. The strength of the place would, however, have set them at defiance; but, on the following day, the populace, by a sudden movement within the city, overpowered and disarmed some of the Dutch posts. On the 27th this internal contest was renewed: the populace succeeded in carrying one of the gates; it was immediately thrown open, and the insurgent army poured into the city, accompanied by a commissioner of the provisional government, who had been sent from Brussels to instal the new authorities. General Chassé, instead of risking his diminished garrison in street-warfare, retired into the citadel, the guns of which gave him the command of the town. The insurgents were not ignorant of this, and a convention was agreed to, by which both parties bound themselves to remain quiet. Scarcely, however, had the convention been signed, when the insurgents, in open violation of it, attacked the important post of the arsenal, forcing one of its gates by cannon-shot. This act of treachery left General Chassé no alternative; he was bound to do his duty, and defend his men. The citadel and the frigates in the harbour opened a cannonade upon the town. “An awful and simultaneous roar of artillery now fell on the ears of the affrighted inhabitants. In an instant the citadel, forts, and fleet hurled forth their converging thunder. An iron deluge rained upon the city-walls, and clattered among the buildings. Showers of shells, bombs, and carcases were heard, cracking, bursting, and bellowing around the venerable towers of St. Michael; the uproar of their explosion being multiplied by the echoes of the cathedral. Walls, roofs, and floors fell, crushed beneath the resistless weight of projectiles, which sought their victims in the very cellars, confounding mangled bodies and ruined edifices in one mutilated and confused heap. Ere long, dark columns of smoke and jets of flame were seen to rise. The arsenal and entrepôt were fired. The obscurity of the night soon gave way to a red and glaring lustre, that converted the dark vault of heaven into a fiery canopy, whose lurid reflection announced the fearful catastrophe to the distance of many leagues.

“The terror and stupefaction of the inhabitants baffles description. Some concealed themselves in their vaults and cellars; others rushed wildly through the streets, shrieking and bewildered. Such as had horses or vehicles, no matter of what kind, gathered together their valuables, and hastily fled into the country. Others, intent only on saving life, darted through the gates on foot, and sought refuge in the neighbouring fields. Old men, fair women, and young children,--rich and poor, the hale and the sick, were seen flying in frantic disorder. The flames having gained the prison, there was no time to remove its inmates. The doors were therefore thrown open, and nearly two hundred convicts were let loose; _but none had the heart to plunder_. Terror, confusion, and despair reigned paramount. Weeping women and children clung for succour to men who could afford them no relief or consolation. Some died of fright, others lost their senses. Groans, screams, and prayers were heard between the pauses of the thunder, intermingled with maledictions on the destroyer, and curses on the revolution. In a few hours, however, all that had power to move, or were not transfixed with terror, had fled into the country. The roads were covered with fugitives of all ages and sexes, who, with tearful eyes, turned to gaze on their devoted homes. The darkness of the night, awfully relieved by the red glare of the flames, the hissing and roaring of the destructive element, the thunder of the cannon, the rattling of shot and falling of timbers, the frantic screams of women and children, and the groans of the wounded and dying,--all united to fix an impression of horror on the mind, not to be effaced by time or space.”[22]

The siege of Antwerp being such an event as was happily rare, during the last forty years, it has excited much attention, and we have given the above extract to meet the expectations of our readers; but we cannot help suspecting that the historian has sacrificed something to a little _fine writing_ (in itself not good). We have reason to think the damage did not amount to near so much as such a portentous account would imply. The bombarding produced its horrors, no doubt; but we must not forget that this scene fell far short of others of the same kind; man’s brutal passions did not disfigure it--the soldier’s murderous sword, guided by revenge, lust, or cupidity, was not there.

The inhabitants and insurgents, terrified at the unexpected severity of General Chassé, sent a deputation at dawn to treat with him, and it was agreed that affairs should remain exactly as they were, until the general question should be definitively settled. Chassé has been generally and deservedly blamed for having inflicted such a punishment upon a large, wealthy, commercial city like Antwerp, for the frantic extravagances of an excited populace: the bombardment, perhaps, did not in one case injure the parties who had provoked his anger.

The kingdom of the United Netherlands had been created by Britain, Austria, Russia, Prussia, and France, and when it was found that the parties could not cohere, they felt called upon to look after the work of their own hands. Belgium had nobly obtained its own independence; to have coerced a reunion would most likely have brought on a serious war, several of the powers having, too plainly, views of a self-interested nature. Belgium was, therefore, by general consent, erected into an independent kingdom, under Prince Leopold of Saxe-Cobourg; the Dutch immediately withdrew their troops from that country, and the inhabitants of Antwerp were relieved from the presence of a foreign garrison in their citadel.

SEBASTOPOL.

A.D. 1854–1855.

We now come to the siege which, if not the most important it has been our task to describe, must be the most interesting to our readers. No siege has ever been conducted under similar circumstances. Such have been the facilities of communication, and so effective and intelligent the means employed for collecting information, that the siege of Sebastopol may be said to have been carried on in the presence of the whole civilized world. It has been a living and an exciting panorama. When our ancestors, the Crusaders, were before Antioch or Jerusalem, their relations at home had no opportunity for mourning losses or celebrating triumphs, till time, by throwing all into distance, had weakened the pain or the joy of the intelligence received; whereas, in this case, there is no half-forgotten friend, no changed or decayed interests: all is moving, associated with us, and affecting us, as if the events were passing within the boundaries of our own seas.

May we not, then, ask, without entertaining less commiseration for the sufferings, or admiration for the deeds of the parties engaged, whether this circumstance does not heighten, or even, in a degree, exaggerate the effect of the events? The siege of Sebastopol is extraordinary and important in all ways; but the readers of this volume will find instances of deeper and more protracted suffering, and greater sacrifice of human life, than have been experienced there. Soliman II. lost 40,000 men in four days before Vienna! The want of water before Jerusalem produced infinitely more misery than the excess of it in the Crimea; and the allies have never experienced anything like real scarcity of food. No siege has ever been placed before the world in such vivid, such affecting colours. As a poem, the “Iliad” is doubtless pre-eminent above all such histories; but divest it, or the “Jerusalem Delivered,” of their poetry and their superhuman agencies, and they will hear no comparison with Mr. Russell’s extraordinary (I was about to use a much stronger word) correspondence with the _Times_: physically and mentally, no man could have been better calculated for the task he undertook. Collected in a volume, his letters will pass down to posterity in company with “Drinkwater’s Gibraltar,” the only work we remember that is worthy of the association.

With his graphic pictures fresh in the minds of every one, it is discouraging to attempt an account of this noble struggle, but as the “Great Sieges of History” would be incomplete without it, we must do as we did with that of Gibraltar, sketch slightly the early scenes, dwell principally upon the great catastrophe, drawing largely and gratefully upon a better historian than ourselves; and asserting occasionally our privilege of commenting upon what passes.

The first thing in this great expedition that strikes a reflective mind, is the facility of transport. Thought naturally travels back to the days when an army from Western Europe, on its way to Constantinople, was diminished by hundreds of thousands in the mere transit. Compare the march of Peter the Hermit, Walter the Penniless, and their countless hosts, with the passage of the gallant allies to nearly the same scene of action--want, fatigue, harassing enemies, and death,--with privations and inconveniences only felt from habitual ease and indulgence. But, perhaps, this very circumstance enhances the cheerfulness and courage with which the armies have encountered and passed through dangers and difficulties to which their previous life had not at all broken them in. Never, we believe, did an army better preserve its spirits; a gleam of sunshine, a scintillation of success, could always restore the Englishman’s hearty laugh, the Irishman’s humorous joke, the Scotchman’s sly, sniggering jeer, whilst not even weather or enemies could silence the music or the gaiety of the French.

Next to the consideration of the troops and the voyage, our attention is drawn to the _matériel_ with which they were to work. Although the expedition was long debated, and at last delayed till too late a period of the year, we are forced to the painful conviction that the _authorities_ at home threw this great stake without due forethought or knowledge. Their acquaintance with what they had to contend with was very imperfect, and their inattention to the probable wants of the troops and the defectiveness of many of the arms and implements were disgraceful; but this was soon remedied by our noble _fourth estate_: without “our correspondent,” Sebastopol would have proved even worse than a Walcheren.

On the 14th of September, the English and French hosts had become “an army of occupation” in the Crimea; the English troops amounting to 27,000, of which number not more than 1,000 were horse. And here, within four-and-twenty hours, the defects of the commissariat and the deficiencies of the medical staff were painfully felt. The disembarkation was effected with comparative ease, only attended with the usual confusion of such affairs, seasoned with the fun and spirits of the sailors, accustomed to paddle in the surf. On the 18th the armies proceeded towards the great point of their destination, and then, for the first time for five hundred years, the peoples of the two most enlightened, and in all ways most conspicuous nations of the world, marched side by side against a common enemy. The result was worthy of the union--the battle of the Alma was won, with a loss of 3,000 men, notwithstanding the vast superiority in numbers of the Russian cavalry. But we must confine ourselves to the siege; and we are not sorry to shun the description of a battle, as we quite agree with Mr. Russell, that “the writer is not yet born who can describe with vividness and force, so as to bring the details before the reader, the events of even the slightest skirmish.” Amidst alerts and skirmishes, whilst being awfully thinned daily by cholera, the allies marched upon and took possession of Balaklava. From this place they had a good sight of Sebastopol; and here, like Richard I., who got within a short distance of Jerusalem, but was unable to enter it, Marshal St. Arnaud, who commanded the French army, was obliged, by sickness, to leave for France, his goal in view.

The armies then prepared for besieging Sebastopol in due form. An opinion, almost amounting to a general one, prevails, that the allies ought to have taken advantage of the panic created among the Russians by their defeat upon the Alma, and have immediately proceeded against Sebastopol. We will not presume to say they certainly ought to have done so, but the calamities of the winter proved greater than any losses they would have sustained by such a spirited attack; and when we glance back at the _captains_ of whom it has been “our hint to speak,” we do not see one who would not have made the bold attempt. The allied generals seemed to forget that whilst they were making preparations, they were affording opportunities for the enemy to effect much greater, because the latter were at home.

On the night of the 10th of October the British troops broke ground before Sebastopol, fifteen days after they had by a brilliant and daring march on Balaklava obtained a magnificent position on the heights which envelope Sebastopol on the south side, from the sea to the Tchernaya. And here again the advantage of being _at home_ was evident; the Russians immediately commenced a severe and destructive fire, whilst the allies were not in a state to respond by a single gun before the 17th. On that day, however, they began with spirit. The besiegers soon found that the city was a very different place from what they had expected, and that they had to deal with brave, active, and persevering enemies, always on the watch to take advantage, and evidently commanded by skilful and enterprising officers. All ideas of a _coup de main_ were over: they had before them a siege which would test every quality they possessed, either as men or soldiers.

The usual routine of extensive sieges went on, sometimes one side having the advantage, sometimes the other; the scene being occasionally varied by splendid attacks of the shipping. But, although the works of the allies gradually advanced, no decisive advantage was gained: the Russians knew the vast superiority of earthworks over every species of fortification, and were indefatigable with the mattock and spade. Towards the end of the month a great diminution in the numbers of the troops began to be felt; there was a steady drain, in one way or another, of from forty to fifty men a day. And in this awful state they had great cause of complaint of want of most necessaries, and particularly of the badness of the fusees, so important for their projectiles.

Unless ours were a volume instead of a chapter, it would be impossible to follow the daily occurring interest of this struggle. In no siege have the opponents been better matched: failures, from accident, want of skill, or disparity of numbers, were frequent on both sides; but no instance of treachery, or deficiency of courage and endurance, disgraced either besieged or besiegers: the triumph will be the greater from being achieved over a brave, energetic, and indefatigable enemy. But, whilst viewing with heartfelt admiration and gratitude the almost superhuman exertions and exploits of the allied troops, a sad conviction creeps into the mind that these efforts were not always judiciously directed; that there was a deadening paucity of that military genius in the leaders, to which such gallant hearts would so nobly have responded if it had existed. A disciplined soldier is little more than a machine; in all battles his exertions are necessarily confined to his own immediate small sphere of action, and therefore all the courage, all the devotion that man is capable of, must lose their due effect if the general’s head do not well guide the soldier’s arm. Another chilling reflection likewise arises on reviewing the contest: the Russians have been, _at least_, quite as well commanded as the allies; and a despotic ruler has provided better for the comforts of his tools than a representative government has for those of the brave soldiers who were fighting for its principle.

By no instance, in the course of this siege, is the want of that indescribable something called genius more evident than in that glorious but lamentable day of the action of Balaklava. The firmness of the brave Scots, who stood “shoulder to shoulder,” unshaken by such a charge as infantry have seldom sustained--the charge of the heavy brigade, worthy of the guards who once received the command to “up and at ’em”--were eclipsed by the desperate onslaught of the light cavalry, which has secured immortality to the brave devotedness of British soldiers. But why were these invaluable lives sacrificed? Why, when every one of such men was worth a host, were these heroes “hounded” on to death, as a spectacle before two armies? The fault was not in the brave men, it was not in their officers; but, as fault there was, it must have been somewhere. We can fancy a Murat, the first _sabreur_ in Europe, in the place of Lord Cardigan; we can believe that with the eye and judgment of a general, relying on his reputation, he might have refused to perform such a palpable and wanton sacrifice; but Lord Cardigan had not the reputation of a Murat to fall back upon; he is a rich nobleman, commanding a regiment for his amusement, and not a soldier of fortune who has gained his rank by his meritorious deeds. With the same spirit with which he would have accepted a personal challenge he led on his men to the charge; but that is not the spirit to which the fate of nations should be intrusted in the battle-field: great captains have not unfrequently obtained honour by remonstrance against rash orders, and sometimes by disobeying them altogether. But, whether the fault of the charge lies with Captain Nolan, Lord Lucan, or Lord Cardigan, we never can conceive how the order for it could have emanated from a general who was so placed as to have the position to be attacked, with its defences and defenders, all before his eyes as in a panorama! Whispers had permeated the armies that our light cavalry had not maintained the character it upon all occasions assumed; such feelings are common in large hosts, but no general should consent for the sake of jealous rumours to sacrifice one of the most efficient arms under his command.

Lamentable as was this affair, the day of Balaklava was, on the whole, advantageous to the besiegers; the purpose of the enemy to remove us from a most eligible position was defeated, and they had such “a taste of our quality” as taught them to respect, if not to fear us. The worst result was the awful diminution of a force in which we were before but too weak: of our brave cavalry, 387 were killed, wounded, or missing; and of horses, 520.

Very strangely, the Russians claimed as a great victory their taking of the guns of the redoubts from the poor terrified Turks; and, in their pride of heart, made, the next day, an attack, with 5,000 men, upon our right flank; but they were repulsed by the division under Sir De Lacy Evans, with the loss of 500 men.

The work in the trenches now became very trying to the men. From the first, the British army was deficient in numbers for such an undertaking. Severe labour, change of climate, unusual exposure exhausted them. The French, from their numbers, made more progress in the works, and our men were overtasked by an endeavour to keep pace with them. The guns, too, became shaky, from continual use. In this arm the Russians excelled us: their guns could bear much more frequent firing, from the excellence of the iron of which they are composed.

This is the first war in which the rifle has been employed to any extent, but its merits became so fully appreciated, that we have no doubt it will be generally adopted, and the soldier, instead of firing at random, will be trained so as to throw no ball away.

One feature of the Russian character has been very prominent in this great struggle--a brutal want of humanity. They partake of the attribute of their eastern origin, in the little value they attach to the lives of their own troops, provided they gain their end; and they have no particle of mercy for a fallen foe. In the _mêlée_, arising from the rash Balaklava charge, they hurled the bolts of their artillery, indiscriminately on friends and enemies; and, after all contests, it was their invariable habit to bayonet the wounded French and English.

By the 30th of October, the position of the allies was rendered very much worse by the closing in upon them of the Russians in their rear. They might be said to be as much besieged in their lines as their enemies were in Sebastopol. But the sea is the Englishman’s constant source of comfort and relief; the port of Balaklava was theirs, and the sea on that side was free to them. The Russians removed every combustible part from their houses and buildings, so that, with the exception of flesh and blood, the allies had nothing to fire against but stone walls and mounds of earth. The most keen and active deer-stalker or chamois-hunter could not be more cunningly and anxiously on the watch for a shot than were the whole bodies of riflemen in both armies during the long siege. Great skill was likewise acquired in gunnery; a shot, a shell, or a rocket seemed sometimes to drop, like magic, _à point nommé_.

But now, as winter approached, the troops became sensible of the miseries of their situation, and of the culpable neglect of those who ought to have provided for their comforts. Things, which in England would have been cast to the dunghill, became valuable, and were sold at absurd prices: a tattered rug, 50s.; a pot of meat, 15s.; a sponge, 25s.; a half worn-out currycomb and brush, 20s.!

With bad weather, sickness, of course, increased, affecting equally French, English, and Turks; and, until the matter was forced upon the _authorities_ at home by the Press, was not duly attended to. But what is still more strange, men there, upon the spot, were deaf to this imperative duty, and the eloquent _Times_ correspondent says: “The authorities generally treat the medical officers with cool disrespect and indifference.” There is no portion of this siege that will descend to posterity on the page of history with more honour to us as a people than that displaying the ready and earnest sympathy felt by most classes at home for our suffering compatriots: the public voice thundered in the ears of officials, and forced them to their duty; individual charity, individual exertion, were instantly put forth; and woman! constant to her character of “a ministering angel,” forsook the home of comfort, and the bed of down, for the contaminated atmosphere of a military hospital, and attendance by the wounded soldier’s couch. We care not what may be the high-sounding title of the general who shall achieve the conquest of the Crimea, it will pale beside that of Miss Nightingale, the leader of the Sisters of Mercy.

At this period of the siege, spies, of a bold and artful kind, occasionally made their appearance in the allied camps. If the commanders had read our siege of Antioch, they might have followed the example of Bohemond: he roasted the bodies of some dead prisoners, and made it understood that the Crusaders served all spies in that manner; he cleared his camp of that dangerous kind of vermin, against whom, we must say, the allies were not sufficiently watchful. How eloquently does a passage of Mr. Russell’s account of the 4th of November bear out our frequently-expressed conviction of the incapacity of the leaders! He says: “Whenever I look at the enemy’s outworks, I think of the Woolwich butt. What good have we done by all this powder? Very little. A few guns judiciously placed, when we first came here, might have saved us incredible toil and labour, because they would have rendered it all but impossible for the Russians to cast up such entrenchments and works as they have done before the open and perfectly unprotected entrance to Sebastopol. Here has been our great, our irremediable error.” And when we look at the bitter consequences of that error, what can we say of the commanders by whom it was committed? In all ethics there is nothing so fallacious and injurious as the constantly-quoted “_De mortuis nil nisi bonum_;” it is deceptive as to the dead, it is disheartening to the good, and encouraging to the bad of the living. Lord Raglan was an amiable gentleman, well-versed, we dare say, in the routine of office; but by no means fit to head such an enterprise against such an enemy. But was not all the English policy, at starting, of this do-nothing character?

Of the same complexion was the disregard to Sir De Lacy Evans’ repeated representation of the insecurity of the position of the flank of the second division. But if the British general was deaf, the Russian commander was not blind, and this led to the attack which brought on the glorious battle of Inkermann--glorious to our brave troops, but certainly not creditable to the precaution of their commander. The Russian generals, on the contrary, seem to have exercised vast skill and discrimination. A great captain not only considers the battle itself in his plans, he provides for success by his preparations, and secures comparative safety in the event of defeat. Bonaparte’s tactics in that respect were his ruin: he said a general should think of nothing but conquering--so that whenever he was beaten, he never knew how to make a retreat. The Russian plans of attack were as perfect as possible, and nothing but the indomitable courage of our troops could have prevented their carrying into effect their threat of compelling us to raise the siege and driving us into the sea. Well-laid plans, brave men, in overwhelming numbers, immense artillery, superstition and brandy, with the presence of royalty, were all put in force against British strength, devotedness and courage,--and all failed. “The Battle of Inkermann,” says its historian, “admits of no description. It was a series of dreadful deeds of daring, of sanguinary hand-to-hand fights, of despairing rallies, of desperate assaults,--in glens and valleys, in brushwood glades and remote dells, hidden from all human eyes, and from which the conquerors, Russian or British, issued only to engage fresh foes, till our old supremacy in the use of the bayonet, so rudely assailed in this fight, was triumphantly asserted, and the battalions of the Czar gave way before our steady courage and the chivalrous fire of France.” The Russians fought with desperation, constantly bayonetting the wounded as they fell. They had orders, likewise, to aim at every mounted officer--thence the death of generals Cathcart and Strangways, and the number of killed and wounded officers of rank: Sir George Brown was among the latter.

The battle was won--but what again says the historian? “A heavy responsibility rests on those whose neglect enables the enemy to attack us where we were least prepared for it, and whose indifference led them to despise precautions which, taken in time, might have saved us many valuable lives, and have trebled the loss of the enemy, had they been bold enough to have assaulted us behind intrenchments. We have nothing to rejoice over, and almost everything to deplore, in the battle of Inkermann. We have defeated the enemy indeed, but have not advanced one step nearer towards the citadel of Sebastopol. We have abashed, humiliated, and utterly routed an enemy strong in numbers, in fanaticism, and in dogged resolute courage, and animated by the presence of a son of him whom they deem God’s vicegerent on earth; but we have suffered a fearful loss, and we are not in a position to part with one man.” In this grand struggle 45,000 Russians were engaged, and their artillery was relieved no less than four times. The Minié rifle performed wonders on this day.

Sir De Lacy Evans was very unwell on board ship, but revived at the din of battle. He got on shore, and rode up to the front. And there, when the fight was over, he stood lamenting for the loss sustained by his division. One of his aides-de-camp was killed, another wounded; of his two brigadiers, Pennefather had a narrow escape, and Adams was wounded:--“and there lay the spot, the weakness of which the general had so often represented! It was enough to make him sad!”

The siege of Sebastopol reminds us of the adventures of one of Dibdin’s sailors--

“By and bye came a hurricane, I didn’t much like that,
Next a battle, which made many a poor sailor lie flat;”

only the events are reversed. While the glories and the misfortunes of the 5th of November were still tossing in the minds or grieving the hearts of the allies, they were visited by a terrific hurricane, which gave them a complete foretaste of what they were to undergo during the winter. We would fain give our readers an extract of the sufferings endured by the armies; but, alas! we _condensers_ are obliged to be satisfied with serving up dry facts,--we are not allowed space for anything that is interesting. And yet, in this case, we have nothing but our own dull labour to regret, as the exciting story is familiar to every Englishman or woman. We take this opportunity of begging our readers to place our omission of the various incidents of the siege to the same account: they would fill a volume, as sorties, attacks, bombardments, shelling, and rocket-flying were constantly going on:--but we are confined to a few pages. The sufferings of the men overworked in the trenches were extreme; and, sorry are we to say, the neglect of the “authorities” still continued as reprehensible as ever. But the presents from their _home_ friends began to arrive, and the relief from the “_Times_ fund” was extensive.

At the end of September the siege was practically suspended. All the troops had to do was to defend the trenches at night, and return shot for shot whenever the enemy fired; the Russians, in the meanwhile, taking advantage of every temporary lull to increase their internal defences.

“Rain and misery everywhere--the fortifications of Sebastopol strengthened--privations of the army--scarcity of food--impassability of the roads--disasters the results of apathy and mismanagement--indescribable horrors of the town and hospitals of Balaklava--the camp a wilderness of mud--pictures of dirt and woe--the Slough of Despond--misery effaces the distinctions of rank--painful reflections--mortality among the Turks--mode of burial--attempted surprises and skirmishes--dismal prospects.” Such are the heads of two chapters of the historian we follow,--and what more can we add to them? Are they not sufficiently eloquent? Do they not tell the story completely? And among all this, winter set in with severity: they had no means of getting up the huts sent them; it was as much as every man could do to provide his food. Some of the warm clothing sent from England went down in the _Prince_, some was burnt in a ship at Constantinople, and lighters full of warm great-coats for the men were left to be saturated with wet in the port of Balaklava, because no one would receive them without orders. Such an army, and in such a situation, was to be left to die of misery from “etiquette” and “service regulations.” “No one would take responsibility upon himself, if it were to save the lives of hundreds.”

With Christmas came little Christmas cheer or Christmas merriment--neither Christmas-boxes nor New Year’s gifts. They went from England, but the army did not receive them at the appointed season or in the hour of need. Whilst friends were despatching more than warm wishes to the Crimea, the “ill-fated army was melting away--dissolved in rain. On the 2nd of January, there were 3,500 sick in the British army before Sebastopol, and it is not too much to say that their illness was, for the most part, caused by hard work in bad weather, and by exposure to wet without any adequate protection.” The Russians not only opened their new year on the 12th of January with the usual ringing of bells and other gaieties, but with a tremendous cannonade and a spirited sortie. They were, however, expected, and were vigorously repulsed and driven back close to the town; so close, indeed, that had the allies been in sufficient force upon the point, they might have entered with them.

At this inclement season the Cossacks, in sheepskin coats and fur caps, mounted on their rough, wiry ponies, with deal lances and coarse iron tips, were much better able to keep their piquet-watch than our cavalry. Though brilliant in their charges throughout the campaign, our cavalry certainly played a more subordinate part than was expected of them. Before the introduction of railway travelling, we used to think the English, as a nation, the best horsemen in the world, though we never thought our military seat comparable with a Yorkshire seat; but this is an irrelevant question--beyond the famous charges, our cavalry are certainly not prominent in this great year’s campaign.

On the 19th of January, the historian of the war makes this striking remark: “Except Lord Raglan, Lord Lucan, and Sir R. England, not one of our generals now remain of those who came out here originally: the changes among our brigadiers and colonels have been almost as great--all the rest have been removed from the army by wounds, sickness, or death--and so it is of the men.” What an eloquent and sorrowful comment is this upon the severity of the service! Would that we could say that was the only cause! Did we indulge in a description of the horrors of hospital and camp, we should leave no room for the glorious triumph.

The superior resources of the French, as regarded numbers, began now to be felt; ground was gradually relinquished to them, and the front, which it cost the British so much strength and health to maintain, was necessarily abandoned to the more numerous and less exhausted army. The French received reinforcements continually, whilst we, alas! were not dwindling, but being swept away: the grave and the hospital swallowed our brave men by thousands--between the 1st of December and the 20th of January 8,000 sick and wounded men were sent down from camp to Balaklava, and thence on shipboard!--from the battle of Inkermann to this period, 1,000 men of the brigade of guards had been “expended, absorbed, used up, and were no more seen!”