Chapter III: Landing in the Crimea

At last, on the 4th of August, we got orders to sail for the Crimea. A few days previously we were received by the Commander-in-chief, Lord Raglan, and he appeared to be very much pleased with our soldier-like bearing. The bay at Varna was at this time a busy scene--transport ships and men-of-war waiting to carry us to that place which was so soon to be the scene of so much bloodshed. It was a busy day at Varna on the 4th of August, men and provisions having been ordered on board on the shortest notice. After getting everything ready, we stood out to sea, to behold (and oh what a sight!) all arrayed on the mighty deep, in the order of battle, our noble fleet on either side of the transports, with that handful of brave and devoted Britons--Britons determined to uphold the honour of their country. Our motto was, “Our Queen and our Fatherland!”

During our voyage cholera again broke out, and made great havoc amongst us, especially in the ranks of our noble tars. It was indeed a sickening sight to behold so many dead bodies floating around us. We found the weather in the Black Sea very boisterous. A severe storm coming on separated us for some time, but we came in sight of each other again, and early on the morning of the 14th September could see at a distance that country which we were so soon to occupy. The Russian army could see us well; and what surprised me much was that they did not oppose our landing; had they done so, they would have greatly harassed us, but they had so much confidence in their entrenched position on the Alma, that they were sure of being successful in driving us into the sea. We shall see, however, as we proceed, whether their hopes were realised.

We cast anchor close in-shore, the surf running very high at the time. Orders were then given to disembark, and by ten o’clock A.M. we could see the French already at work. We took three days’ rations with us from the vessel, but the tents were left on board, and we landed in fighting order--

We sprang to land upon the sand,
And slept on Russia’s shore,
On the fourteenth of September,
Eighteen hundred and sixty-four.

It was nearly five in the evening before we got everything on shore. A few horses were drowned during the disembarkation, but these were the only casualties.

We now found ourselves in the enemy’s country, and after advancing a few miles into the interior, we piled arms and halted, our first night in the Crimea--a night never to be forgotten. The rain fell in torrents while we lay on the cold ground, our knapsacks for a pillow, and no covering above us but the canopy of heaven. In this manner we lay, officer and private, peer and peasant, together. We were very glad when daylight appeared, but found that during the night a number of our little band had been cut off by cholera: that messenger of death seemed to follow our track, and take with an unsparing hand the best and bravest of our men.

We remained in this place for two or three days, getting from the fleet such articles as we could carry and be of use to us in the field. We also managed to get a few tents, which we found very useful during the night. At times we could see a few Cossacks hovering on our flank, watching our movements. We killed a few bullocks, which were cut up and served out to each mess, and then, with our camp-kettles on our backs, our water-bottles by our sides, and our ninety rounds of ammunition, we started, prepared to meet the Russian on his own soil; and not the least daunted--

We marched along until we came
Upon the Alma’s banks;
We halted just beneath the lines,
To breathe and close our ranks.
“Advance” we heard, and at the word
Across the brook we bore,
On the twentieth of September,
Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.