fire was concentrated upon the British. The officers, showing
themselves in front, were soon shot down in numbers, and success,
which had been in their hands at first, was now impossible.
For an hour and a half the slaughter continued, and then, as the
Russian masses poured forward to attack them, the remnant who remained
of the storming parties leaped from the parapet and made their way as
best they could through the storm of bullet and shot, back to the
trenches.
The fight had lasted an hour and three quarters, and in that time we
had lost more men than at Inkerman. Our loss was 24 officers and 119
men killed; 134 officers, and 1897 men wounded. Had the regiments
engaged been composed of the same materials as those who won the
heights of the Alma, the result might have been different, although
even in that case it is questionable whether the small force told off
for the assault would have finally maintained itself against the
masses which the Russians brought up against them. But composed as
they were of young troops, many being lads sent off to the front a few
weeks after being recruited, the success of such an attack, so
managed, was well-nigh impossible from the first.
It was a gloomy evening in the British camps. We were defeated, while
the French were victorious. The fact, too, that the attack had failed
in some degree owing to the misconduct of the men added to the effect
of the failure. It was said that the attack was to be renewed next
morning, and that the Guards and Highland Brigade were to take part in
it. Very gloomy was the talk over the tremendous loss which had taken
place among the officers. From the manner in which these had exposed
themselves to induce their men to follow them, their casualties had
been nearly four times as large as they should have been in proportion
to their numbers.
Jack Archer was in deep grief, for his brother had been severely
wounded, and the doctors gave no strong hopes of his life. He had been
shot in the hip, as he strove to get the men of his company together,
and had been carried to the rear just before the Russian advance drove
the last remnants of the assailants from the salient.
Jack had, with the permission of his commanding officer, gone to sit
by his brother's bedside, and to give his services generally as a
nurse to the wounded.
At eleven o'clock the hut was shaken by a tremendous explosion,
followed a few minutes afterwards by another. Several of the wounded
officers begged Jack to go to Cathcart's Hill, to see what was doing.
Jack willingly complied, and found numbers of officers and men
hastening in the same direction. A lurid light hung over Sebastopol,
and it was evident that something altogether unusual was taking place.
When he reached the spot from which he could obtain a view of
Sebastopol, a wonderful sight met his eye. In a score of places the
town was on fire. Explosion after explosion followed, and by their
light, crowds of soldiers could be seen crossing the bridge. Hour
after hour the grandeur of the scene increased, as fort after fort was
blown up by the Russians. At four o'clock the whole camp was shaken by
a tremendous explosion behind the Redan, and a little later the
magazines of the Flagstaff and Garden batteries were blown up, and the
whole of the Russian fleet, with the exception of the steamers, had
disappeared under the water, scuttled by their late owners. At
half-past five two of the great southern forts, the Quarantine and
Alexander, were blown up, and soon flames began to ascend from Fort
Nicholas.
The Russian steamers were all night busy towing boats laden with
stores, from the south to the north side, and when their work was
done, dense columns of smoke were seen rising from the decks. At seven
o'clock in the morning the whole of the Russian troops were safely
across the bridge, which was then dismembered and the boats which
composed it taken over to the north side. By this time Sebastopol was,
from end to end, a mass of flames, and by nightfall nothing save a
heap of smoking ruins, surrounded by shattered batteries, remained of
the city which had, for so many months, kept at bay the armies of
England and France.
All through the night Jack Archer had travelled backwards and forwards
between the crest of the hill and the hospital; for so great was the
interest of the wounded in what was taking place that he could not
resist their entreaties, especially as he could do nothing for his
brother, who was lying in a quiet, half-dreamy state.
The delight of the English army at the fall of the south side of
Sebastopol was greatly tempered by the knowledge that it was due to
the capture of the Malakoff by the French. Their own share in the
attack having terminated by a defeat, and the feeling which had been
excited by the fact that the Guards and Highlanders, who had taken no
part whatever in the trench-work during the winter, and who were in a
high state of efficiency, should have been kept in reserve, while the
boy battalions bore the whole brunt of the attack, found angry
expression among the men.
All that day the allied armies remained quiescent. It was useless to
attempt to occupy the burning town, and the troops might have been
injured by the explosions which took place from time to time of stores
of powder.
The Zouaves, however, and our own sailors made their way down in
considerable numbers, and returned laden with loot from houses which
had so far escaped the conflagration.
Happily the success of the French, and our own failure, did not create
any feeling of unpleasantness between the troops of the two nations.
As the remnants of the French regiments, engaged in the Malakoff,
marched in the morning to their camps, the second division was drawn
up on parade. As the leading regiment of Zouaves came along, the
English regiment nearest to them burst into a hearty cheer, which was
taken up by the other regiments as the French came along, and as they
passed, the English presented arms to their brave allies and the
officers on both sides saluted with their swords.
The next day the officers thronged down to see the ground where the
fighting had taken place. Around the Malakoff the ground was heaped
with dead. Not less had been the slaughter outside the work known as
the Little Redan, where the French attack had been repulsed with
prodigious loss.
The houses of the portion of the town nearest the batteries were found
full of dead men who had crawled in when wounded in front. As a
considerable number of the Russian steamers of war were still floating
under the guns of their batteries on the north side, preparations were
made at once to mount two heavy guns by the water-side; but the
Russians, seeing that the last remains of their fleet would speedily
be destroyed, took matters in their own hands, and on the night of the
11th the six steamers that remained were burnt by the Russians.
After the din which had raged so fiercely for the previous four days,
and the dropping fire which had gone on for a year, the silence which
reigned was strange and almost oppressive. There was nothing to be
done. No turn in the trenches or batteries to be served, nothing to do
but to rest and to prepare for the next winter, which was now almost
upon them.
A week after the fall of Sebastopol the anniversary of the battle of
Alma was celebrated. What great events had taken place since that
time!
None of those who had rested that night on the vine-clad hill they had
won, dreamed of what was before them, or that they were soon to take
part in the greatest siege which the world has ever known. Small
indeed was the proportion of those who had fought at the Alma now
present with the army at Sebastopol. The fight of Inkerman, the mighty
wear and tear in the trenches, the deadly repulses at the Redan, and
above all, the hardships of that terrible winter, had swept away the
noble armies which had landed in the Crimea, and scarcely one in ten
of those who heard the first gun in the Alma was present at the fall
of Sebastopol.
The naval camp was now broken up, the sailors returned on board ship,
and the army prepared to go into winter quarters, that is to say, to
dig deep holes under their tents, to erect sheltering walls, and in
some instances to dig complete subterranean rooms.
A week after the assault Harry Archer was carried down to Balaklava
and put on board ship. The surgeons had in vain endeavored to extract
the bullet, and were unable to give any cheering reply to Jack's
anxious inquiries.
His brother might live; but they owned that his chances were slight.
It was a question of general health and constitution. If mortification
did not set in the wound might heal, and he might recover and carry
the bullet about with him all his life. Of course he had youth and
health on his side, and Jack must hope for the best. The report was
not reassuring, but they could say no more.
Weeks passed on, and the two armies lay watching each other from the
heights they occupied. At last it was determined to utilize the
magnificent fleet which had hitherto done so little. Accordingly an
expedition was prepared, whose object was to destroy the forts at
Kinburn and occupy that place, and so further reduce the sources from
which the Russians drew their food.
The sight was an imposing one, as the allied squadrons in two long
lines steamed north past the harbor of Sebastopol. The British
contingent consisted of six line-of-battle ships, seventeen steam
frigates and sloops, ten gun-boats, six mortar vessels, and nine
transports.
On board the men-of-war were 8340 infantry, and 1350 marines. The
transports carried the Royal Artillery, the medical commissariat and
transport corps, stores of all kinds, and the reserve of ammunition.
The French fleet was nearly equal in number to our own.
Steaming slowly, the great squadrons kept their course towards Odessa,
and cast anchor three miles off the town. Odessa is one of the most
stately cities of the sea; broad esplanades lined with trees, with a
background of stately mansions; terrace after terrace of fine houses
rising behind, with numbers of public buildings, barracks, palaces and
churches; stretching away on the flanks, woods dotted with villas and
country houses.
Odessa possessed forts and batteries capable of defending it against
the attack of any small naval force; but these could have made no
defence whatever against so tremendous an armament as that collected
before it. With telescopes those on board were able to make out large
numbers of people walking about or driving on the promenade. Long
lines of dust along the roads showed that many of the inhabitants were
hastily leaving or were sending away valuables, while on the other
hand the glimmer of bayonets among the dust, told of the coming of
troops who were hurrying in all directions to prevent our landing.
Odessa was, however, clearly at our mercy, and considerable
controversy took place at the time as to whether the allies should not
have captured it. Being defended by batteries, it ranked as a
fortified town, and we should have been clearly justified in
destroying these, and in putting the town under a heavy contribution,
which the wealthy city could readily have paid. However, it was for
some reason decided not to do so, and after lying at anchor for five
days, the greater portion of which was passed in a thick fog, the
great fleet steamed away towards Kinburn. The entrance to the gulf
into which the Dneiper and Bug discharge themselves, is guarded by
Fort Kinburn on the one side and by Fort Nikolaev on the other, the
passage between them being about a mile across.
On the 17th fire was opened on Fort Kinburn, and although the Russians
fought bravely, they were unable to withstand the tremendous fire
poured upon them. Twenty-nine out of their seventy-one guns and
mortars were disabled, and the two supporting batteries also suffered
heavily. The barracks were set on fire, and the whole place was soon
in flames. Gradually the Russian fire ceased, and for some time only
one gun was able to answer the tremendous fire poured in upon them.
At last, finding the impossibility of further resistance, the officer
in command hoisted the white flag. The fort on the opposite shore was
blown up by the Russians, and the fleet entered the channel. The
troops were landed, and Kinburn occupied, and held until the end of
the war, and the fleet, after a reconnaissance made by a few gun-boats
up the Dneiper, returned to Sebastopol.
The winter was very dull. Exchanges of shots continued daily between
the north and south side, but with this exception hostilities were
virtually suspended; the chief incident being a tremendous explosion
of a magazine in the centre of the camp, shaking the country for miles
away, and causing a loss to the French of six officers killed and
thirteen wounded, and sixty-five men killed and 170 wounded, while
seventeen English were killed, and sixty-nine wounded. No less than
250,000 pounds of gunpowder exploded, together with mounds of shells,
carcasses and small ammunition. Hundreds of rockets rushed through the
air, shells burst in all directions over the camp, and boxes of small
ammunition exploded in every direction. The ships in the harbors of
Balaklava and Kamiesch rocked under the explosion. Mules and horses
seven or eight miles away broke loose and galloped across the country
wild with fright, while a shower of fragments fell over a circle six
miles in diameter.
On the last day of February the news came that an armistice had been
concluded. The negotiations continued for some time before peace was
finally signed. But the war was at an end, and a few days after the
armistice was signed the "Falcon" was ordered to England, to the great
delight of all on board, who were heartily sick of the long period of
inaction.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CONCLUSION
The "Falcon" experienced pleasant weather until passing the Straits of
Gibraltar. Then a heavy gale set in, and for many days she struggled
