We were kindly pressed to remain the night, but we wished to return to the children, who had been left on board the yacht. Besides, the house seemed so very small, compared with the party already assembled, that we could scarcely believe in the “possibility” of our being taken in, whatever good-will there might be. We looked around, thinking there must be some other house besides the very little one before us, but no, nothing was to be seen but some Tartar huts, a few cow-hovels, and the blackened ruins. So, with many thanks, we adhered to our original intention, and then the greater part of the party proposed to accompany us to the sea-shore.
A large, powerful horse—a fine creature, but of a fiery and impetuous nature—was with some difficulty harnessed to a lofty gig, or “heavenly chariot,” into which I was invited to mount. I did so, though, it must be confessed, with some inward trepidation. In another moment our hostess was by my side, and the fiery steed stood on his hind legs, as if he meant to “pose” for ever as a statue for a “horse rampant.”
The young ladies, without any preparation, jumped on two Tartar ponies; the rest of the party got into the other carriage. Our energetic animal condescended to come down on his forelegs, and, with a bound that almost took away my breath, off we set—“over brook, over byre”—going across country in the dark in the most astonishing fashion. To the very last moment that fiery steed acted well up to his character; snorting, plunging, and exerting himself most unnecessarily when any obstruction came in his way. However, the fair charioteer, twisting the reins twice round her hands, seemed fully equal to her task, and so away we went, with glorious indifference to holes, mounds, or other little impediments.
The young ladies rode admirably. It could have been no easy matter, and needed no little courage, to sit so steadily, galloping at such a headlong pace, on a dark night, over rough ground full of holes. However, we all arrived quite safely at the sea-shore, and found our kind friends had brought us a supply of vegetables, fruit, butter, and cream that made us rich for many days.
When we rejoined our hospitable entertainers the following morning the mystery of the sleeping accommodation was explained. The little house only possessed two rooms divided by a passage. All the men slept in one room, the ladies had the other; the governess being the best off, as she had a shelf to herself in the passage. These kind people had really intended to share their house with us, and proposed to give us one room and the passage, taking the little governess into their already crowded room, and sending the luckless men to find shelter where they could.
The “Heavenly Chariot” was again made ready, the mighty steed being more frisky than ever, as he felt the cheerful influence of the fresh morning air, and after breakfast we all, some in carriages, some on horseback, went to visit the field of the battle of the Alma.
Standing immediately beneath the Heights they appear exceedingly steep, and difficult to climb, especially one would think when exposed to a galling fire, but this very steepness proved the salvation of the Zouaves.
Once arrived at the foot of the cliffs, they were within the range of the Russian guns, and these active fellows, who climb like cats, were speedily at the top, and engaged in a hand-to-hand combat with their foe.
Our host, who had been on Prince Menschikoff’s staff, said that the Russians committed two fatal mistakes early in the day.
In his opinion the Russian guns should have opened fire when the allies were crossing the river, and when their line consequently was somewhat broken and disorganised. Unhappily, there was difference of opinion and dissension amongst the Russian generals, and therefore, marvellous to relate, no very precise orders were issued on the important morning, so the favourable moment was lost.