The British Expedition to the Crimea

Sir William Howard Russell

BOOK I.

CHAPTER I.

THE causes of the last war with Russia, overwhelmed by verbiage, and wrapped up in coatings of protocols and dispatches, at the time are now patent to the world. The independence of Turkey was menaced by the Czar, but France and England would have cared little if Turkey had been a power whose fate could affect in no degree the commerce or the reputation of the allies. France, ever jealous of her prestige, was anxious to uphold the power of a nation and a name which, to the oriental, represents the force, intelligence, and civilization of Europe. England, with a growing commerce in the Levant, and with a prodigious empire nearer to the rising sun, could not permit the one to be absorbed and the other to be threatened by a most aggressive and ambitious state. With Russia, and France by her side, she had not hesitated to inflict a wound on the independence of Turkey which had been growing deeper every day. But when insatiable Russia, impatient of the slowness of the process, sought to rend the wounds of the dying man, England felt bound to stay her hands, and to prop the falling throne of the Sultan.

Although England had nothing to do with the quarrels of the Greek and Latin Churches, she could not be indifferent to the results of the struggle. If Russia had been permitted to exercise a protectorate over the Greek subjects of the Porte, and to hold as material guarantee the provinces of the Danube, she would be the mistress of the Bosphorus, the Dardanelles, and even the Mediterranean. France would have seen her moral weight in the East destroyed. England would have been severed from her Indian Empire, and menaced in the outposts of her naval power. All Christian States have now a right to protect the Christian subjects of the Porte; and in proportion as the latter increase in intelligence, wealth, and numbers, the hold of the Osmanli on Europe will relax. The sick man is not yet dead, but his heirs and administrators are counting their share of his worldly goods, and are preparing for the suit which must follow his demise. Whatever might have been the considerations and pretences which actuated our statesmen, the people of England entered, with honesty of purpose and singleness of heart, upon the conflict with the sole object of averting a blow aimed at an old friend. To that end they devoted their treasure, and in that cause they freely shed their blood.

Conscious of their integrity, the nation began the war with as much spirit and energy as they continued it with calm resolution and manly self-reliance. Their rulers were lifted up by the popular wave, and carried further than they listed. The vessel of the State was nearly dashed to pieces by the great surge, and our dislocated battalions, swept together and called an army, were suddenly plunged into the realities of war. But the British soldier is ready to meet mortal foes. What he cannot resist are the cruel strokes of neglect and mal-administration. In the excitement caused by the news of victory the heart's pulse of the nation was almost frozen by a bitter cry of distress from the heights of Sebastopol. Then followed accounts of horrors which revived the memories of the most disgraceful episodes in our military history. Men who remembered Walcheren sought in vain for a parallel to the wretchedness and mortality in our army. The press, faithful to its mission, threw a full light on scenes three thousand miles from our shores, and sustained the nation by its counsels. "Had it not been for the English press," said an Austrian officer of high rank, "I know not what would have become of the English army. Ministers in Parliament denied that it suffered, and therefore Parliament would not have helped it. The French papers represented it as suffering, but neither hoping nor enduring. Europe heard that Marshal St. Arnaud won the Alma, and that the English, aided by French guns, late in the day, swarmed up the heights when their allies had won the battle. We should have known only of Inkerman as a victory gained by the French coming to the aid of surprised and discomfited Englishmen, and of the assaults on Sebastopol as disgraceful and abortive, but your press, in a thousand translations, told us the truth all over Europe, and enabled us to appreciate your valour, your discipline, your élan, your courage and patience, and taught us to feel that even in misfortune the English army was noble and magnificent."

The press upheld the Ministry in its efforts to remedy the effects of an unwise and unreasoning parsimony, prepared the public mind for the subversion of an effete system, encouraged the nation in the moment of depression by recitals of the deeds of our countrymen, elevated the condition and self-respect of the soldiery, and whilst celebrating with myriad tongues the feats of the combatants in the ranks, with all the fire of Tyrtæus, but with greater power and happier results, denounced the men responsible for huge disasters—"told the truth and feared not"—carried the people to the battlefield—placed them beside their bleeding comrades—spoke of fame to the dying and of hope to those who lived—and by its magic power spanned great seas and continents, and bade England and her army in the Crimea endure, fight, and conquer together.

The army saved, resuscitated, and raised to a place which it never occupied till recently in the estimation of the country, has much for which to thank the press. Had its deeds and sufferings never been known except through the medium of frigid dispatches, it would have stood in a very different position this day, not only abroad but at home. But gratitude is not a virtue of corporations. It is rare enough to find it in individuals; and, although the press has permission to exhaust laudation and flattery, its censure is resented as impertinence. From the departure of our first battalions till the close of the war, there were occasions on which the shortcomings of great departments and the inefficiency of extemporary arrangements were exposed beyond denial or explanation; and if the optimist is satisfied they were the inevitable consequences of all human organization, the mass of mankind will seek to provide against their recurrence and to obviate their results. With all their hopes, the people at the outset were little prepared for the costs and disasters of war. They fondly believed they were a military power, because they possessed invincible battalions of brave men, officered by gallant, high-spirited gentlemen, who, for the most part, regarded with dislike the calling, and disdained the knowledge, of the mere "professional" soldier. There were no reserves to take the place of those dauntless legions which melted in the crucible of battle, and left a void which time alone could fill. When the Guards[3] left London, on 22nd February, 1854, those who saw them march off to the railway station, unaccustomed to the sight of large bodies of men, and impressed by the bearing of those stalwart soldiers, might be pardoned if they supposed the household troops could encounter a world in arms. As they were the first British regiments which left England for the East, as they bore a grand part worthy of their name in the earlier, most trying, and most glorious period of our struggles, their voyage possesses a certain interest which entitles it to be retained in this revised history; and with some few alterations, it is presented to the reader.

Their cheers—re-echoed from Alma and Inkerman—bear now a glorious significance, the "morituri te salutant" of devoted soldiers addressed to their sorrowing country.

"They will never go farther than Malta!"—Such was the general feeling and expression at the time. It was supposed that the very news of their arrival in Malta would check the hordes of Russia, and shake the iron will which broke ere it would bend. To that march, in less than one year, there was a terrible antithesis. A handful of weary men—wasted and worn and ragged—crept slowly down from the plateau of Inkerman where their comrades lay thick in frequent graves, and sought the cheerless shelter of the hills of Balaklava. They had fought and had sickened and died till that proud brigade had nearly ceased to exist.

The swarm of red-coats which after a day of marching, of excitement, of leave-taking, and cheering, buzzed over the Orinoco, Ripon, Manilla, in Southampton Docks, was hived at last in hammock or blanket, while the vessels rode quietly in the waters of the Solent. Fourteen inches is man-of-war allowance, but eighteen inches were allowed for the Guards. On the following morning, February 23rd, the steamers weighed and sailed. The Ripon was off by 7 o'clock A.M., followed by the Manilla and the Orinoco. They were soon bowling along with a fresh N.W. breeze in the channel.

Good domestic beef, sea-pudding, and excellent bread, with pea-soup every second day, formed substantial pieces of resistance to the best appetites. Half a gill of rum to two of water was served out once a day to each man. On the first day Tom Firelock was rather too liberal to his brother Jack Tar. On the next occasion, the ponderous Sergeant-Major of the Grenadiers presided over the grog-tub, and delivered the order, "Men served—two steps to the front, and swallow!" The men were not insubordinate.

The second day the long swell of Biscay began to tell on the Guards. The figure-heads of the ships plunged deep, and the heads of the soldiers hung despondingly over gunwale, portsill, stay, and mess-tin, as their bodies bobbed to and fro. At night they brightened up, and when the bugle sounded at nine o'clock, nearly all were able to crawl into their hammocks for sleep. On Saturday the speed of the vessels was increased from nine-and-a-half to ten knots per hour; and the little Manilla was left by the large paddle-wheel steamers far away. On Sunday all the men had recovered; and when, at half-past ten, the ship's company and troops were mustered for prayers, they looked as fresh as could be expected under the circumstances;—in fact, as the day advanced, they became lively, and the sense of joyfulness for release from the clutches of their enemy was so strong that in reply to a stentorian demand for "three cheers for the jolly old whale!" they cheered a grampus which blew alongside.

On Tuesday the Ripon passed Tarifa, at fifty minutes past five A.M., and anchored in the quarantine ground of Gibraltar to coal half-an-hour afterwards. In consequence of the quarantine regulations there was no communication with the shore, but the soldiers lined the walls, H.M.S. Cruiser manned yards, and as the Ripon steamed off at half-past three P.M., after taking on board coals, tents and tent-poles, they gave three hearty cheers, which were replied to with goodwill. On Thursday a target painted like a Russian soldier was run up for practice. The Orinoco reached Malta on Sunday morning at ten A.M., and the Ripon on Saturday night soon after twelve o'clock. The Coldstreams were disembarked in the course of the day, and the Grenadiers were all ashore ere Monday evening, to the delight of the Maltese, who made a harvest from the excursions of the "plenty big men" to and from the town.

The Manilla arrived at Malta on the morning of March 7th, after a run of eighteen days from Southampton. The men left their floating prisons only to relinquish comfort and to "rough it." One regiment was left without coals, another had no lights or candles, another suffered from cold under canvas, in some cases short commons tried the patience of the men, and forage was not to be had for the officers' horses. Acting on the old formula when transports took eight weeks to Malta, the Admiralty supplied steamers which make the passage in as many days with eight weeks' "medical comforts." By a rigid order, the officers were debarred from bringing more than 90lb. weight of baggage. Many of them omitted beds, canteen and mess traps, and were horror-stricken when they were politely invited to pitch their tents and "make themselves comfortable" on the ravelins, outside Valetta.

The arrival of the Himalaya before midnight on the same day, after a run of seven days and three hours from Plymouth, with upwards of 1,500 men on board, afforded good proof of our transport resources. Ordinary troop-ships would have taken at least six weeks, and of course it would have cost the Government a proportionate sum for their maintenance, while they were wasting precious moments, fighting against head winds. The only inconvenience attendant on this great celerity is, that many human creatures, with the usual appetites of the species, are rapidly collected upon one spot, and supplies can scarcely be procured to meet the demand. The increase of meat-consuming animals at Malta nearly produced the effects of a famine; there were only four hundred head of cattle left in the island and its dependencies, and with a population of 120,000—with the Brigade of Guards and 11 Regiments in garrison, and three frigates to feed, it may easily be imagined that the Commissariat were severely taxed to provide for this influx.

The Simoom, with the Scots Fusileer Guards, sixteen days from Portsmouth, reached Malta on the 18th of March. The troops were disembarked the following day, in excellent order. A pile of low buildings running along the edge of the Quarantine Harbour, with abundance of casements, sheltered terraces, piazzas, and large arched rooms, was soon completely filled. The men in spite of the local derangements caused on their arrival by "liberty" carousing in acid wine and fiery brandy, enjoyed good health, though the average of disease was rather augmented by the results of an imprudent use of the time allowed to them in London, to bid good-bye to their friends.

For the three last weeks in March, Valetta was like a fair. Money circulated briskly. Every tradesman was busy, and the pressure of demand raised the cost of supply. Saddlers, tinmen, outfitters, tailors, shoemakers, cutlers, increased their charges till they attained the West-End scale. Boatmen and the amphibious harpies who prey upon the traveller reaped a copper and silver harvest of great weight. It must, however, be said of Malta boatmen, that they are a hardworking, patient, and honest race; the latter adjective is applied comparatively, and not absolutely. They would set our Portsmouth or Southampton boatmen an example rather to be wondered at than followed. The vendors of oranges, dates, olives, apples, and street luxuries of all kinds, enjoyed a full share of public favour; and (a proof of the fine digestive apparatus of our soldiery) their lavish enjoyment of these delicacies was unattended by physical suffering. A thirsty private, after munching the ends of Minié cartridges for an hour on the hot rocks at the seaside, would send to the rear and buy four or five oranges for a penny. He ate them all, trifled with an apple or two afterwards, and, duty over, rushed across the harbour or strutted off to Valetta. A cool café, shining out on the street with its tarnished gilding and mirrors more radiant than all the taps of all our country inns put together, invited him to enter, and a quantity of alcoholic stimulus was supplied, at the small charge of one penny, quite sufficient to encourage him to spend two-pence more on the same stuff, till he was rendered insensible to all sublunary cares, and brought to a state which was certain to induce him to the attention of the guard and to a raging headache. "I can live like a duke here—I can smoke my cigar, and drink my glass of wine, and what could a duke do more?" But the cigar made by very dirty manufacturers, who might be seen sitting out in the streets compounding them of the leaves of plants and saliva was villanous; and the wine endured much after it had left Sicily. As to the brandy and spirits, they were simply abominable, but the men were soon "choked off" when they found that indulgence in them was followed by punishment worse than that of the black hole or barrack confinement. The biscuit mills were baking 30,000lb. of biscuit per day. Bills posted in every street for "parties desirous of joining the commissariat department, under the orders of Commissary-General Filder, about to proceed with the force to the East, as temporary clerks, assistant store-keepers, interpreters," to "freely apply to Assistant Commissary-General Strickland;" had this significant addition,—"those conversant with English, Italian, modern Greek, and Turkish languages, or the Lingua-Franca of the East will be preferred." Warlike mechanics, armourers, farriers, wheelwrights, waggon-equipment and harness-makers, were in request.

As might naturally be expected where so great a demand, horses were scarcely to be obtained. To Tunis the contagion of high prices spread from Malta, and the Moors asked £25 and £30 for the veriest bundles of skin and bone that were ever fastened together by muscle and pluck. Our allies began to show themselves. The Christophe Colomb, steam-sloop, towing the Mistral, a small sailing transport, laden with 27 soldiers' and 40 officers' horses arrived in Malta Harbour on the night of the 7th, and ran into the Grand Harbour at six A.M. the following morning. On board were Lieutenant-General Canrobert, and his Chef d'État; Major Lieutenant-General Martimprey, 45 officers, 800 soldiers, 150 horses. Their reception was most enthusiastic. The French Generals were lodged at the Palace, and their soldiers were fêted in every tavern. Reviews were held in their honour, and the air rang with the friendly shouts and answering cheers of "natural enemies".

In a few days after the arrival of the Guards, it became plain that the Allies were to proceed to Turkey, and that hostilities were inevitable. On the 28th March war was declared, but the preparations for it showed that the Government had looked upon war as certain some time previously.

Every exertion was made by the authorities to enable the expedition to take the field. General Ferguson and Admiral Houston Stewart received the expression of the Duke of Newcastle's satisfaction at the manner in which they co-operated in making "the extensive preparations for the reception of the expeditionary force, which could only have been successfully carried on by the absence of needless departmental etiquette,"—a virtue which has been expected to become more common after this official laudation. This expression of satisfaction was well deserved by both these gallant officers, and Sir W. Reid emulated them in his exertions to secure the comfort of the troops. The Admiral early and late worked with his usual energy. He had a modus operandi of making the conditional mood mean the imperative. Soldiers were stowed away in sailors' barracks and penned up in hammocks under its potent influence; and ships were cleared of their freight, or laden with a fresh one, with extraordinary facility.

It was at this time that in a letter to the Times I wrote as follows:—"With our men well clothed, well fed, well housed (whether in camp or town does not much matter), and well attended to, there is little to fear. They were all in the best possible spirits, and fit to go anywhere, and perhaps to do anything. But inaction might bring listlessness and despondency, and in their train follows disease. What is most to be feared in an encampment is an enemy that musket and bayonet cannot meet or repel. Of this the records of the Russo-Turkish campaign of 1828-9, in which 80,000 men perished by 'plague, pestilence, and famine,' afford a fearful lesson, and let those who have the interests of the army at heart just turn to Moltke's history of that miserable invasion, and they will grudge no expense, and spare no precaution, to avoid, as far as human skill can do it, a repetition of such horrors. Let us have plenty of doctors. Let us have an overwhelming army of medical men to combat disease. Let us have a staff—full and strong—of young and active and experienced men. Do not suffer our soldiers to be killed by antiquated imbecility. Do not hand them over to the mercies of ignorant etiquette and effete seniority, but give the sick every chance which skill, energy, and abundance of the best specifics can afford them. The heads of departments may rest assured that the country will grudge no expense on this point, nor on any other connected with the interest and efficiency of the corps d'élite which England has sent from her shores.[4] There were three first-class staff-surgeons at Constantinople—Messrs. Dumbreck Linton, and Mitchell. At Malta there were—Dr. Burrell, at the head of the department; Dr. Alexander, Dr. Tice, Mr. Smith, and a great accession was expected every day."

The commissariat department appeared to be daily more efficient, and every possible effort was made to secure proper supplies for the troops. This, however, was a matter that could be best tested in the field.

On Tuesday, the 28th of March, the Montezuma, and the Albatross with Chasseurs, Zouaves, and horses, arrived in the Great Harbour. The Zouave was then an object of curiosity. The quarters of the men were not by any means so good as our own. A considerable number had to sleep on deck, and in rain or sea-way they must have been wet. Their kit seemed very light. The officers did not carry many necessaries, and the average weight of their luggage was not more than 50lb. They were all in the highest spirits, and looked forward eagerly to their first brush in company with the English.

Sir George Brown and staff arrived on the 29th in the Valetta. The 2nd Battalion Rifle Brigade, the advance of the Light Division, which Sir George Brown was to command, embarked on board the Golden Fleece. On the 30th, Sir John Burgoyne arrived from Constantinople in the Caradoc.

The Pluton and another vessel arrived with Zouaves and the usual freight of horses the same day, and the streets were full of scarlet and blue uniforms walking arm and arm together in uncommunicative friendliness, their conversation being carried on by signs, such as pointing to their throats and stomachs, to express the primitive sensations of hunger and thirst. The French sailed the following day for Gallipoli.

When the declaration of war reached Malta, the excitement was indescribable. Crowds assembled on the shores of the harbours and lined the quays and landing-places, the crash of music drowned in the enthusiastic cheers of the soldiers cheering their comrades as the vessels glided along, the cheers from one fort being taken up by the troops in the others, and as joyously responded to from those on board.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

THE arrangements for the conveyance of the troops to their destination were of the largest and most perfect character; and when all the transports were united, they constituted an armada of 600 vessels, covered by a fleet with 3000 pieces of artillery.

Although, at first sight, this force appeared irresistible, it could not be overlooked that the enemy had a large fleet within a few hours' sail—that in using our men-of-war as transports, we lost their services in case of a naval action—that our army had suffered much from illness and death, and that the expedition had something of uncertainty, if not audacity, in its character—all that was fixed being this, that we were to descend at the Katcha, beat the Russians, and take Sebastopol.

Writing at the time, I said—"I am firmly persuaded that the patience of people at home, who are hungering and thirsting for the news of 'the Fall of Sebastopol,' will be severely tried, and that the chances are a little against the incidents of its capture being ready by Christmas for repetition at Astley's. It is late, very late, in the year for such a siege as there is before us, and I should not be surprised if we are forced to content ourselves with the occupation of a portion of the Crimea, which may become the basis of larger and more successful operations next year."

Few but our generals, admirals, and some old officers, troubled their heads much about these things, except a few notorious old grumblers. The only persons who were dejected or melancholy were those who were compelled to stay behind. Such vast establishments as had been created at Varna for the use of our army could not be broken up without many fragments remaining, and these fragments must be watched. There were, besides, the poor invalids in the hospitals, the officers and men in charge of them and of various regimental stores, of depôts, of commissariat supplies, the commissariat officers themselves—in fact, the guardians of the débris which an army leaves behind it, all melancholy, and lamenting their hard fate. The most extravagant efforts were made by some of the officers on whom the lot fell to remain, in order to evade so great a calamity.

At the last moment many an aching heart was made happy by an order from head-quarters. The women of several of the regiments who had mournfully followed their husbands to the beach, and rent the air with their wailings when they heard they were to be separated from those with whom they had shared privation and pestilence, were allowed to go on board. It was found that no provision had been made for their domicile or feeding. A camp of women!—the very idea was ludicrous and appalling; and so, as they could not be left behind, the British Andromaches were perforce shipped on board the transports and restored to their Hectors.

In the course of (Monday) September 4th, six English men-of-war and four French men-of-war left Varna Bay, and from morning to evening not an hour passed that some six or eight transports did not weigh anchor and steer away to the northward to the rendezvous at Baltschik. Sir Edmund Lyons, who had charge of the arrangements connected with the expedition, was busy all the day on board his flagship communicating with the shore and with the fleet.

The signal for starting was very anxiously expected, but evening closed in on the bulk of the English flotilla still anchored in the waters of Varna, and for the last time, perhaps, in the history of the world, the echoes of its shores were woke up by the roll of English drums, and by the music of the bands of our regiments, which will, in all probability, never re-visit these ill-omened lands. As the sun set and shot his yellow rays across the distant hills, the summit of which formed our camping grounds, and lighted up the flat expanse of rolling vapours above the lake, one could not but give a sigh to the memory of those who were lying far away from the land of their fathers—whose nameless graves are scattered in every glade and on every knoll in that unkindly Mœsian soil.

However, the morrow came, and with it life and motion. A gun from the Admiral! Signals from the Emperor, the seat of power of the Admiralty agents! The joyful news throughout the fleet that we were to weigh, and to get off to our rendezvous in Baltschik as soon as we could. Many sailing transports were already stealing out to the southwards under all light canvas, in order to get a good offing. All the steamers were busy, clothing the bay and the adjacent coast with clouds of smoke as they got up steam, through which, as it shifted, and rose and fell, and thinned away under the influence of a crisp, fresh breeze, one could see the town of Varna, all burnt up and withered by fire, its white minarets standing up stiffly through the haze, its beach hemmed by innumerable boats, its be-cannoned walls, the blanched expanse around it of hill and plain, still thickly dotted with the camps of the French.

At ten o'clock A.M., Tuesday, September 4th, we were fairly under way, with a ship in tow. The City of London, in which I had a berth, carried the head-quarters of the 2nd Division, Sir De Lacy Evans, Lieutenant-General Commanding, Colonel Percy Herbert, Deputy Assistant Quarter Master General, Colonel Wilbraham, Deputy Assistant General, Captain Lane Fox, Captain Allix, aide-de-camp, Captain Gubbins, aide-de-camp, Captain Bryan, aide-de-camp, and Major Eman, 41st Regiment. The coast from Varna to Baltschik very much resembles that of Devonshire. It was as green, more richly wooded, and crowned by verdant expanses of dwarf forest trees, which undulate from the very verge of the sea to the horizon. For some four or five miles outside Varna, the French, camps dotted these pleasant-looking hills—the abode of fever and cholera. Then came the reign of solitude—not a homestead, not a path, not a sign of life visible as for the next eight or ten miles one coasted along the silent forest! Just about Baltschik the wood disappears, and the land becomes like our coast between the Forelands, with high white cliffs and bare green hills above them. The town itself, or rather the overgrown village, seemed through the glass to be as dirty and straggling as any Bulgaro-Turkish town it had been our lot to witness, and offered no temptation to go ashore. On steaming out of the bay northwards the number of steamers and sailing transports in sight was wonderful, but when, after a run of two hours, we anchored in Baltschik roads, one was almost disappointed at the spectacle, for the line of coast is so long, and the height of the cliffs inland so considerable, that the numerous vessels anchored in lines along the shore were dwarfed, as it were, by the magnitude of the landscape. It was only as the eye learnt to pick out three-deckers and large vessels—to recognize the Britannia here, the Trafalgar there, the Himalaya further on—that the grandeur of these leviathans grew upon one, just as a simple attempt to count the vessels along the coast gave an idea of their numbers. In addition to the transports, there were several coal vessels for the supply of the steamers; some laden with Turkish coal from Heraclea, and others with coal from England.

Towards evening Lord Raglan came from Varna on board H.M.S. Caradoc, Lieutenant Reynolds, which he had selected as his headquarters afloat. The Duke of Cambridge, and a portion of his staff, took up their quarters on board Her Majesty's ship Triton, Commander Lloyd. Many of the ships had to get water from the beach, to complete coaling, &c., and the masters were twice summoned on board the Emperor, to receive instructions from Captain Christie, R.N., respecting the sailing of the expedition, and the landing of the troops, &c., conveyed to him by the Rear-Admiral.

The French were nowhere visible, and we learnt, on inquiry, that their fleet, with the few transports under their charge, had left on the previous Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and were to rendezvous at Fidonisi, or Serpents' Island, off the mouth of the Danube, near which they were to be joined by the fleets from Bourgas and Varna. Their men were nearly all on board line-of-battle ships. A squadron of steamers, with a multitude of brigs and transports in tow, was visible towards evening, steering north-east, and the tricolor could be seen ere evening flying from the peaks of the steamers; they passed by Baltschik with a stiff breeze off the land on their quarter. Towards evening the wind freshened and hauled round more to the northward; but the fleet rode easily at anchor all night.

Wednesday, the 6th of September, was passed in absolute inactivity, so far as the bulk of the officers and men of the expedition were concerned. There was a fresh wind to the eastward, which would have carried the transports out rapidly to sea. We thought at the time that some arrangement with the French, or some deficiency to be made good, not known to us, was the cause of the delay.[7] The ships of the various divisions were got into order as far as possible, and the officers and men were in great measure consoled for the detention by the exchange of good fare on board ship for ration beef and bread and camp living. The soldier may have the sunny side of the wall in peace, but assuredly he has the bleaker side in times of war. Wherever the sailor goes he has his roof over his head, his good bed, his warm meal. He moves with his house about him. If he gets wet on deck he has a snug hammock to get into below, or a change of dry clothing, and his butcher and his baker travel beside him. From a wet watch outside, the soldier is lucky if he gets into a wet tent; a saturated blanket is his covering, and the earth is his pillow. He must carry his cold victuals for three days to come, and eat them as best he may, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, with no change of clothing and no prospect of warmth or shelter.

These and such other topics could not fail to be discussed on board ship, and the discussion necessarily promoted a better understanding between the services, for Jack saw that these rigid gentlemen in red coats and straps and buckles, whom he is rather apt to look upon as Sybaritical and effeminate creatures, had to go through as much hard work and exposure as himself; and the soldier was not a little surprised, perhaps, to find that those whose business is upon the waters lived in comfort which he would gladly find in the best-appointed barrack. Sailors and soldiers worked together in the greatest harmony, although it was trying to the best of tempers to be turned out of bed for a stranger, and although people with only six feet square a-piece to live, move, and have their being in, when stowed away in thousands, might be expected to view their neighbours with a little reasonable dislike.

At half-past four o'clock on Thursday morning, the 7th of September, three guns from the Agamemnon fired in quick succession woke up the sleepers of the fleet. The signal-men made out through the haze of morning twilight the joyful order fluttering in the coloured bunting from the mizen of the Admiral, "Prepare to weigh anchor," and in a quarter of an hour the volumes of smoke rising from the steamers, mingled with white streaks of steam, showed that not much time would be lost in obeying it. Ere seven o'clock arrived the steamers had weighed anchor, and each was busy "dodging about" the mass of transports to pick up its own particular charges. This was a work of time, of trouble, and of difficulty. Towing is at all times an unpleasant operation, but it is especially difficult to arrange the details and to get the towed vessels under weigh when there is such a mass of shipping to thread as there was at present. When the vessels were found, and the hawsers passed and secured, then came the next great difficulty—to get them into their assigned places in the several lines of the different divisions. There was some time lost before the lines were formed, and the signal "to sail" was given. With a gentle breeze off shore the flotilla started in nearly the order assigned to it. The lines were about half a mile apart, and each line was four or five miles long, for the towing power of the several steamers was so unequal, that the weaker ones tailed off and the stronger got ahead, in spite of repeated orders to keep station.

It was a vast armada. No pen could describe its effect. Ere an hour had elapsed it had extended itself over half the circumference of the horizon. Possibly no expedition so complete and so terrible in its means of destruction, with such enormous power in engines of war and such capabilities of locomotion, was ever yet sent forth. The speed was restricted to four miles and a half per hour, but with a favouring wind it was difficult to restrain the vessels to that rate, and the transports set no sail. The course lay N.E. by E., and the fleet was ordered to make for a point 40 miles due west of Cape Tarkan. On looking to the map it will be seen that the point thus indicated is about 50 miles east of Fidonisi, or Serpents' Island, off the mouth of the Danube, and that it lies about 100 miles to the north-east of Sebastopol, Cape Tarkan being a promontory of the Crimea, 63 miles north of the fortress. It was understood that this point was the rendezvous given to our French and Turkish allies. The fleet, in five irregular and straggling lines, flanked by men-of-war and war steamers, advanced slowly, filling the atmosphere with innumerable columns of smoke, which gradually flattened out into streaks and joined the clouds, adding to the sombre appearance of this well-named "Black" Sea. The land was lost to view very speedily beneath the coal clouds and the steam clouds of the fleet, and as we advanced, not an object was visible in the half of the great circle which lay before us, save the dark waves and the cold sky.

Not a bird flew, not a fish leaped, not a sail dotted the horizon. Behind us was all life and power—vitality, force, and motion—a strange scene in this so-called Russian lake! From time to time signals were made to keep the stragglers in order, and to whip up the laggards, but the execution of the plan by no means equalled the accuracy with which it had been set forth upon paper, and the deviations from the mathematical regularity of the programme were very natural. The effect was not marred by these trifling departures from strict rectilinearity, for the fleet seemed all the greater and the more imposing as the eye rested on these huge black hulls weighing down upon the face of the waters, and the infinite diversity of rigging which covered the background with a giant network.

Towards three o'clock we came up with eight French and Turkish steamers, towing about 50 small brigs and schooners under the French flag, which appeared to be laden with commissariat stores, for there were very few men on board. They steered rather more to the east than we did, and we soon passed them. Soon afterwards several large French men-of-war steamers, with transports in tow, appeared in the distance on our starboard quarter (right-hand side), steering the same course with ourselves, and they seemed to get very close to the stragglers of our fleet. One could not but contrast the comfort of our soldiers in their splendid transports with the discomfort to which our brave allies must have been exposed in their small shallops of 150 and 200 tons burden.

Towards night, quick steamers were sent on in advance and on the flanks, to look out, as a matter of precaution. At daybreak they returned, and reported to the Admiral that the French and Turkish fleets were steering eastward across our bows a long way in advance. In the course of Friday morning, the 8th, the wind chopped round, and blew rather freshly right in our teeth. The result was a severe strain upon hawsers and steamers; in some instances the hawsers parted and the transports drifted away.

Our progress against a head wind and light head sea was tedious, and on taking our observation at noon we found we were in lat. 48 33 N., long. 31 10 E., which gave us an average speed of 3 7-10ths miles since we started on Thursday. At ten A.M. we steered by signal N.E. ½ N. About eleven o'clock the topgallantsails of a large fleet steering in two lines were seen above the horizon. Signals were made for the transports to close up and keep in their stations, and the Agamemnon stood on in advance to communicate with the strangers. The Britannia, towed by a man-of-war steamer and followed by the Caradoc, went in the same direction. At the same time the Napoleon, with a convoy of steamers and transports, rose well into sight on our starboard quarter. The Trafalgar, the Terrible, and the Retribution, followed the Britannia, and other men-of-war were in advance on our bows.

At half-past twelve o'clock the Turco-French fleet was clearly visible, steering nearly E.N.E. in two lines. They were all under plain sail aloft and alow—27 sail of the line, frigates and steamers. As we came up, they laid their maintopsails aback, and hove-to while we passed. They were in two lines, and the decks of those steamers we came near were covered with troops, as thickly packed as they could stand. Large boats and flats were slung over the sides and lashed amidships. Some of the Turks (who appeared to have six line-of-battle ships—one three-decker and five two-deckers, and a couple of frigates) carried troops also. We passed through the fleet slowly, and about three o'clock they were hull down on our starboard quarter. The wind went down towards evening, but the weather became raw and cold. When we came up with the French fleet, Admiral Dundas went on board the Ville de Paris, where there was a conference, at which Marshal St. Arnaud was seized with such a violent attack of his old malady that he was obliged to leave the table. It had been reported to the French General that there was a Russian camp on the Katcha, which was the spot indicated by the reconnaissance under Sir George Brown and General Canrobert as the best place for the disembarkation; and this circumstance, coupled with the fact that the gallant officers in recommending the place had not duly considered the small size of the bay, and the great size of the fleet, caused some difference of opinion in the council. Lord Raglan could not attend this conference on account of the swell, which prevented his getting up the side of the Ville de Paris, and Marshal St. Arnaud requested Admiral Hamelin and Colonel Trochu to repair on board the Caradoc and ask his opinion. It was there decided that a second commission of exploration should be sent to examine the coast from Eupatoria to Sebastopol, but not until the French Marshal had faintly recommended a descent on Theodosia (Kaffa), instead of the west coast of the Crimea. General Canrobert, Colonel Trochu, Colonel Lebœuf, Admiral Bruat, General Thierry, General Bizot, General Martimprey, and Colonel Rose[8] were deputed on this service by the French. Sir John Burgoyne, Sir George Brown, Admiral Lyons, and some other officers, represented the English.

About six o'clock on Saturday morning, the Agamemnon and Caradoc, accompanied by the Samson and the Primauguet, left the fleet and steered due east, a course which would bring them to the coast of the Crimea, a little above Sebastopol. For the rest of the fleet, the greater part of Saturday was almost lost, for we did not move eight miles in the interval between eight A.M. and noon. The advanced ships were ordered by signal to lie-to for the rear of the fleet, which was very far astern. Our observation at noon gave our position lat. 44 30 N., long. 30 11 E., which is 22 miles north-west of the point, 40 miles west of Cape Tarkan, for which we were ordered to steer, and it appeared we were keeping away considerably to the westward and northward at present. From ten A.M. till three P.M. we scarcely moved a mile. Finally, all cast anchor in the middle of the Black Sea, in 25 fathoms water. The weather fine—the precious time going fast. So passed the greater part of Saturday and all day Sunday.

Night came on, but still there was no sign of the Agamemnon or of the French and English Generals-in-Chief. The French and Turkish fleets combined were ten leagues south this morning, trying to beat up to us. The Napoleon arrived and anchored near us, and several French steamers with transports in tow hove in sight. All the Generals not in the secret of our policy were sorely puzzled.

Our exact bearings at noon, verified and amended, were, lat. 45 36 north, long. 31 23 east. This was about 25 miles north and west of the original rendezvous given to the fleet at starting.

Many of the ships were so short of coal they would have had some difficulty in steaming to Sebastopol, in case it was resolved to go there.

We made very slow progress. At half-past two o'clock the French fleet was visible on the starboard or right-hand bow, hull down, and with their topmasts only visible above the horizon. They seemed to be steering towards the south-east. The sun was hot, but the wind felt cold and piercing; at times slight showers fell. The sea was very smooth and tranquil, and of that peculiar dark colour which has induced so many nations to agree in giving it names of similar significance. The fleet stretched across the whole diameter of the circle—that is, they had a front of some eighteen miles broad, and gradually the irregular and broken lines tapered away till they were lost in little mounds and dots of smoke, denoting the position of the steamers far down below the horizon.

As many of the seamen in the merchant vessels and transports had been grumbling at the expected boat service, which rendered them liable to shot and shell if the enemy should oppose the landing of the troops, and some had gone so far, indeed, as to say they would not serve at all—particularly the seamen of the Golden Fleece, a communication was made to Admiral Dundas, before the departure of the ships from their anchorage, and his reply, to the following effect, was circulated and read among the crews of the transports, to their great satisfaction, on Sunday morning:—

The Caradoc and Primauguet returned at seven A.M., on the morning of the 11th September, with their attendant guardians, after a cruise along the coast; on the morning of the 10th they arrived off Sebastopol, which they reconnoitred from the distance of three miles, and then proceeded to Cape Chersonese, where the beach appeared favourable for a descent, but the timides avis opposed the proposition on the ground that the men would have to fight for their landing. Some camps were seen near the town, and on turning towards the north, and arriving off the mouth of the Belbek, the Commissioners saw a small camp on the heights over the river. It was decided that this beach and little bay were too close to the enemy for the landing. Then they went upwards to the Katcha, which Sir George Brown had recommended, but all the officers at once condemned the spot, as the beach was much too small. There were some troops visible on shore. The Caradoc next ran on to the Alma, which was found to be protected by large camps along the southern ridges—proceeding towards Eupatoria she lay off a beach between the sea and a salt-water lake about fourteen miles south of that town, which after some consideration, the Generals fixed upon as the scene of their landing, and having reconnoitred Eupatoria, they made for the rendezvous. In about half an hour after they joined us, signal was made to the transports to steer to Eupatoria. Soon afterwards this signal was recalled, and was replaced by another to "steer S.S.E." For the whole day we ran very quietly on this course without any incident worthy of notice. The night closed in very darkly. The lightning flashed in sheets and forked streams every two or three minutes, from heavy masses of clouds behind us, and the fleet was greatly scattered. We were driving through a squall of rain and wind, varied by hailstorms. The thermometer was still at 65°. Our course was rather hazardous at times, and so many steamers were steering across us that great care was required to steer clear of them in the dark. The moon, which would otherwise have aided us, was quite obscured by banks of clouds.

During the night the expedition altered its course slightly to the eastward, and stood in more directly towards the land. The night was fine, but the sharpness of the air told of the approach of winter. Two heavy showers of hail, which fell at intervals in the morning, covered the decks with coatings of ice a couple of inches thick, but the sun and the broom soon removed them. Early in the morning of the 12th, just after dawn, a dark line was visible on our port (or left-hand) side, which became an object of interest and discussion, for some maintained it was land, others declared it was cloud-land. The rising sun decided the question in favour of those who maintained the substantiality of the appearance. It was indeed the shore of the Crimea.

A.M.