Lord Raglan at last became weary of this inactivity, and gave orders for the whole line to advance. Up rose these serried masses, and—passing through a fearful shower of round, case-shot and shell—they dashed into the Alma and “floundered” through its waters, which were literally torn into foam by the deadly hail. At the other side of the river were a number of vineyards, occupied by Russian riflemen. Three of the staff were here shot down; but, led by Lord Raglan in person, they advanced, cheering on the men. And now came the turning point of the battle, in which Lord Raglan, by his sagacity, probably secured the victory at a smaller sacrifice than would have been otherwise the case. He dashed over the bridge, followed by his staff. From the road over it, under the Russian guns, he saw the state of the action. The British line, which he had ordered to advance, was struggling through the river and up the heights in masses, firm indeed, but mowed down by the murderous fire of the batteries; and by grape, round shot, shell, canister, case-shot, and musketry, from some of the guns in the central battery, and from an immense and compact mass of Russian infantry.
Then commenced one of the most bloody and determined struggles in the annals of war. The 2nd Division, led by Sir de Lacy Evans in the most dashing manner, crossed the stream on the right. Brigadier Pennefather (who was in the thickest of the fight, cheering on his men), again and again was checked, but never drew back in his onward progress, which was marked by a fierce roll of Minié musketry; and Brigadier Adams bravely charged up the hill, and aided him in the battle. Sir George Brown, conspicuous on a grey horse, rode in front of his Light Division, urging them with voice and gesture. Gallant fellows! they were worthy of such a gallant chief. Down went Sir George in a cloud of dust in front of the battery. He was soon up, and led them on again; but in the shock produced by the fall of their chief, the gallant regiment suffered terribly while paralysed for a moment. Meantime, the Guards on the right of the Light Division, and the brigade of Highlanders, were storming the heights on the left. Suddenly a tornado of round and grape rushed through from the terrible battery, and a roar of musketry from behind it thinned their front ranks by dozens. It was evident that the troops were just able to contend against the Russians, favored as they were by a great position. At this very time an immense mass of Russian infantry were seen moving down towards the battery. They halted. It was the crisis of the day. Sharp, angular, and solid, they looked as if they were cut out of the solid rock. Lord Raglan saw the difficulties of the situation. He asked if it would be possible to get a couple of guns to bear on these masses. The reply was “Yes;” and an artillery officer brought up two guns to fire on the Russian squares. The first shot missed, but the next, and the next, and the next, cut through the ranks so cleanly, and so keenly, that a clear lane could be seen for a moment through the square. After a few rounds the columns of the square became broken, wavered to and fro, broke, and fled over the brow of the hill, leaving behind them six or seven distinct lines of dead, lying as close as possible to each other, marking the passage of the fatal messengers. This act relieved the infantry of a deadly incubus, and they continued their magnificent and fearful progress up the hill. “Highlanders,” said Sir C. Campbell, ere they came to the charge, “don’t pull a trigger till you’re within a yard of the Russians!” They charged, and well they obeyed their chieftain’s wish; Sir Colin had his horse shot under him; but he was up immediately, and at the head of his men. But the Guards pressed on abreast, and claimed, with the 33rd, the honor of capturing a cannon. The Second and Light Division crowned the heights. The French turned the guns on the hill against the flying masses, which the cavalry in vain tried to cover. A few faint struggles from the scattered infantry, a few rounds of cannon and musketry, and the enemy fled to the South-east, leaving three Generals, three guns, 700 prisoners, and 4000 killed and wounded, behind them.
The loss on the part of the British was 2000 killed, wounded, and missing; that of the French, about 1400.
On the night after the battle the allied army bivouacked on the summit of the heights which they had so gloriously won; the French Marshal pitching his tent on the very spot occupied by that of Prince Menschikoff the morning before.
THE MARCH TO SEBASTOPOL.
On the 23d the Allied armies left the Alma and proceeded to cross the Katcha; on the 24th they crossed the Belbec, where it had been intended to effect the landing of the siege matériel with a view to an attack on the north side of Sebastopol. It was found, however, that the enemy had placed a fortified work so as to prevent the vessels and transports from approaching this river; and it was determined to advance at once by a flank march round the east of Sebastopol, to cross the valley of the Tchernaya, and seize Balaklava as the future basis of operations against the south side of the harbor at Sebastopol.
On leaving the high road from the Belbec to Sebastopol, the army had to traverse a dense wood, in which there was but one road that led in the direction necessary to take. The march was toilsome, and the troops suffered much from want of water. At length, about mid-day, Lord Raglan and his staff, preceding the light division, arrived at the outskirts of the wood, in the neighbourhood of a place known as Mackenzie’s Farm, and, no doubt to the surprise of both parties, found himself on the flank of a Russian division retreating from Sebastopol to Bakshi-serai. The Russians only thought of making good their retreat, and before any of the British cavalry and horse artillery could be brought up, they had passed by the critical spot. A few men fell on the side of the Russians, and some were taken prisoners. A vast quantity of ammunition and much valuable baggage, fell into the hands of the British.
After resting for awhile at Mackenzie’s Farm, where two wells afforded a scanty supply of water to the thirsty troops, the march was resumed down a steep and difficult defile, leading to the valley of the Tchernaya river, which they succeeded in reaching the same night.
Next morning (the 26th) the army was again on the march, and a few miles more sufficed to bring them to the end of their journey.