The battles of the world

by J. Douglas Borthwick

BLENHEIM, BATTLE OF.—Fought between the English and confederates, commanded by the Duke of Marlborough, and the French and Bavarians, under Marshal Tallard and the Elector of Bavaria, whom the Duke totally defeated, with the loss of 27,000 men, in killed, and 13,000 prisoners—Tallard being among the number of the latter; the Electorate of Bavaria became a prize of the conquerors. The nation testified its gratitude to the Duke of Marlborough by the gifts of the honour of Woodstock and hundred of Wotton, and erected for him one of the finest seats in the kingdom, known as the domain and house of Blenheim. This great battle was fought on the 2nd of August, 1704.

BOIS-LE-DUC, BATTLE OF.—Between the British and the French Republican army, in which the former were defeated, September 14th, 1794. Captured by the French, October 6th, following, and surrendered to the Prussian army under Bulow, 1814.

BOLOGNA.—Taken by the French in 1796; by the Austrians in 1799; again by the French, after Marengo, in 1800; and restored to the Pope, in 1815.

BOMBS.—Invented at Venlo in 1495; came into general use in 1634. The Shrapnel shell is a bomb filled with balls and a lighted fuse to make it explode before it reaches the enemy. A thirteen inch bomb-shell weighs 198 lbs.

BOMBARDMENT OF SEBASTOPOL.—First Attempt.—“At half-past six o’clock, on the morning of 17th October, a gun from the English batteries boomed ominously upon the ears of the Russians in Sebastopol. It was the signal for the commencement of the bombardment. It had been announced, on the previous evening, that the morrow was to initiate the combat; and already groups of expectant gazers thronged every spot which promised to afford a view of the warlike spectacle. For a moment after the signal-gun had despatched its messenger of death, a breathless expectation held the spectators in suspense; and then, from the whole line of attack, from the Quarantine on the far left to the Inkerman battery on the extreme right, a sheet of fire belched forth, and a volley of shot and shell was hurled upon the town. By this time the Russian gunners were at their post, and bravely responded to the challenge. As far as the eye could reach, a dense volume of smoke hung suspended in the air; and when it lifted, another and yet another streak of flame poured from the black earthworks, and lit up the white churches and houses of the town. The earth literally shook with the concussion of the mighty conflict. Distinct amid the roar, a sharp whizzing sound, swelling as it approached into a crashing rush, like a railway train at inexpressible speed, was heard, and a heavy blow upon the solid earthworks told where had fallen the ball of the renowned Lancaster gun. In a couple of hours it was evident that the Round Tower, the most formidable of the Russian works, was seriously damaged. But little impression, however, appeared to have been made on the mass of the enemy’s works. Their fire was splendid, and it was abundantly apparent that the victory was not to be easily achieved. About ten o’clock, a shell fell into one of the French magazines, which exploded, killing and injuring more than fifty men. This was a serious blow; and from that time the guns of our allies were evidently feebly served, and inadequate to bear their part effectually. For two hours more the terrific cannonade continued, spreading destruction in the ranks alike of the Russians and the Allies; and then, at mid-day, the fleets approached the scene of action, and prepared to take their share in the dangers and glories of the day. The French was the first to take up their position. It had been arranged between the Admirals, with the hearty concurrence of the land forces, that the French should engage the forts on the south of the harbour, while the English should attack Fort Constantine, and the batteries on the north. A semicircular line, enclosing the mouth of the harbour, would represent the position occupied by the allied fleets. The Vautour, a French frigate, had the honour of opening the fire, and very shortly afterwards the Charlemagne, Montebello, Jean Bart, and others, joined in the fray. The sight from the land side now was of the most stupendous character, and the roar deafening and incessant. Enormous volleys from hundreds of guns of the largest size rolled with never-ceasing impetuosity; and the air was loaded with a dense smoke that hid from the anxious gazers the effects of the fire. Occasionally a breeze lifted the murky canopy, and then the eye could catch the prospect beyond the frowning earthworks of shattered buildings, and not unfrequently a bright flame where the explosion of a shell had fired a roof, soon to be extinguished by the active enemy. Then, in the far distance, rose the grim outlines of the massive forts, pointing seawards their deadly array of guns; and further yet, a line of noble vessels rapidly forming into order of attack, finished the picture. But such glimpses were but momentary. Again the crimson volleys thundered forth, a light smoke poured from the sides of the French steamers, and the reply of the forts sent forth a vaporous veil, which, mingling with the smoke from the earthworks, once more enveloped in obscurity alike the attack and the defence.

It was arranged that the English sailing-vessels should be taken into position by the smaller steamers lashed to their sides. In this manner they drew up before the forts: the Queen, Britannia, Trafalgar, Vengeance, Rodney, and Bellerophon, with the Vesuvius, Furious, Retribution, Highflyer, Spitfire, Spiteful, and Cyclops alongside, arrived at their appointed positions about an hour after the French had commenced firing. The ships in advance were the magnificent steamer the Agamemnon, bearing the flag of Sir Edmund Lyons, the brave second in command; the Sanspareil, Sampson, Tribune, Terrible, Sphynx, and Lynx, and the Arrow gun-boat, accompanied by the sailing vessels, Albion, London, and Arethusa, towed by the Firebrand, Niger, and Triton.

Preceding this imposing force, a little steam-tug, the Circassia, commanded by Mr. Ball, led the way, carefully sounding as it went, and marking out the position for the larger ships. Sir Edmund Lyons had already settled the share he was determined to take in the day’s adventure, and had selected the enormous fort of Constantine as the object of his special attention. The Terrible and Sampson, dashing through the storm of fire from the casemates of Constantine, anchored opposite two very mischievous little batteries, one of which the sailors named the Wasp, from its power of annoyance in comparison with its size, and the other the Telegraph, from its proximity to the signal station. In a few moments a vigorous shelling was opened upon these two batteries, which briskly replied. The Agamemnon now opened fire, and never was a cannonade more briskly sustained, or exhibited greater precision of fire. Sir Edmund had anchored his vessel at the very edge of the shoal, which extended about 900 yards from the fort. At this distance the Russian fire was most severe. For four hours the gallant crew bore the galling shower of missiles which cut through the rigging, pierced the hull, and sent many a brave fellow to his last account. The Albion and London boldly came within range, but so deadly was the fire, that they soon withdrew, terribly crippled. The Sanspareil admirably seconded the efforts of the Agamemnon, and maintained a telling fire upon the fort. At length that too withdrew, and the dauntless Sir Edmund was left to bear the brunt of the concentrated fire of the Russian guns. His ship was riddled with shot, the sails and rigging hanging in shreds, yet, with a bull-dog pertinacity, he clung to his opponent. Despatching his lieutenant in an open boat, he summoned the Bellerophon to his aid. His message was characteristically pithy: “Tell them to come in; these forts will sink me, and I’m d——d if I leave this.” The Bellerophon quickly responded; and throwing a volley into the big fort, passed on to where the Wasp and Telegraph forts were showering their missiles on the gallant Agamemnon. The Wasp was soon silenced by the vigorous shelling of the Bellerophon; and Sir Edmund, freed from the annoyance it had caused, with unabated courage hurled his fire at his huge antagonist. The Bellerophon, however, suffered fearfully. A shell from the Russian batteries exploded in the fore part of the ship, and set fire to the lower deck. For a few moments it seemed as if unavoidable destruction was the fate of the gallant crew. The firing was suspended, and all hands rushed forward to endeavour to extinguish the flames. In this endeavour they were successful; but then a new mischance awaited them. The anchor had dragged on the bottom, and they were fast drifting towards the shoals beneath the forts, where they would have lain a helpless target for the Russian guns. In this emergency, the Spitfire, seeing the critical position of the larger vessel, dashed in, took her in tow, and safely brought her, though much damaged, out of the action.

The “saucy Arethusa,” and her little companion in arms, the Triton steamer, which, lashed to the larger vessel, had boldly entered into the thick of the fight, bore a full share of the damage done that day. As they arrived within the range of the fire, the small steamer, which was then exposed, received a volley. Then, hauling round, the broadside of the frigate was presented to the forts, and the Triton was, to some degree, sheltered by the larger hull of her consort. The sailors from the steamer hastened on board the Arethusa, to assist in manning her guns, and a glorious broadside was hurled at the Russian fort. Every shot vibrated through the Triton, so great was the recoil of the frigate’s guns. Broadside after broadside was gallantly delivered, and as promptly replied to by the cannon of the fort. Down went the rigging of the Arethusa, ropes hanging in tangled masses from her yards, and not unfrequent shots striking her hull. Some passed beyond the frigate, and soon the Triton’s gear aloft, and fallen gaffs, stays, and shrouds attested the severity of the enemy’s fire. Two shots struck the paddle-wheel, and the commander and carpenter’s mate were wounded by a shell while examining the extent of damage done. At length the Arethusa, nearly sinking, her decks covered with fallen rigging, her cockpit crowded with bleeding men, was compelled to relinquish the contest. The Triton gallantly towed her out of range, but in the act, a raking fire of shells was poured upon the deck, killing and wounding all within range of their explosion. With twenty-two holes in her funnel, she contrived to tow the frigate to Constantinople, to be docked for repairs, so extensive were her injuries.

The Labrador steamer had a narrow escape from entire destruction. Towards four o’clock a shell burst in the captain’s cabin, adjoining the powder magazine, and set fire to some ropes. A cry of “fire” was raised, the pumps set to work, and enormous quantities of water poured into the magazine. The fire was fortunately extinguished in time to save the vessel. She was, of course, compelled to withdraw from the attack, her powder being rendered useless.