The British Expedition to the Crimea

by Sir William Howard Russell

DEFECTIVE PREPARATIONS FOR THE ASSAULT.

A sergeant and a handful of men actually got possession of a small work, in which there were twelve or fourteen artillerymen; but the Russians, seeing that they were alone, came down upon them and drove them out. An officer and half-a-dozen men got up close to the Flagstaff Battery, and were advancing into it when they saw that they were by themselves, and retreated. About fifteen French soldiers on their left aided them, but they were unsupported and they all had to retire. Another officer with twelve men took one of the Russian rifle-pits, and held possession of it throughout the day.

This partial success, however, did not change the fortunes of the day. The French were driven out of the Gervais' Battery because they received no reinforcements, though not till they had held it for upwards of forty minutes. Marshal Pelissier made proposals to Lord Raglan to renew the assault. Lord Raglan, though agreeing with the French General in the practicability of a renewed assault, was of opinion that it ought not to be attempted till a heavy bombardment had been continued for some hours. As there was a considerable distance between them, Lord Raglan had to ride over to Marshal Pelissier, to confer with him on the arrangements for the proposed assault. During the interval, the French, who were suffering heavily from the enemy's fire, became dispirited by their losses and by the inaction which followed the check they had sustained. The Russians were evidently in great force at the Malakoff; and General d'Autemarre was so convinced that the assault would not succeed, that he sent a pressing message to Marshal Pelissier to beg that he would not expose the men in a fruitless assault. Marshal Pelissier was obliged to yield to such an expression of opinion, and, Lord Raglan coinciding with him, the renewal of the assault did not take place. Although the attack upon the Redan had been discussed at a council of war, and the Engineer officers of both our attacks (Colonel Chapman and Colonel Gordon) had been called upon to assist the Generals with their advice, the result proved that the arrangements were defective and inadequate. Our officers were outwitted by the subtlety of the Russians, who had for some time masked their guns, or withdrawn them from the embrasures, as if they were overpowered and silenced by our fire. No more decisive proof of the inefficiency of our force could be afforded than this fact—that in no case did the troops destined to assault and carry the Redan reach the outer part of the work; that no ladders were placed in the ditch; and that a very small portion indeed of the storming party reached the abattis, which was placed many yards in front of the ditch of the Redan. It cannot be said that on this occasion our men exhibited any want of courage; but so abortive and so weak was the attack, that the Russians actually got outside the parapet of the Redan, jeered and laughed at our soldiers as they fired upon them at the abattis, and mockingly invited the "Inglisky" to come nearer. A few dilettanti have since started a theory, which has not even ingenuity to recommend it, and which, if well founded, would convey the weightiest accusation ever yet made against our commanders—and that is, that our assault against the Redan was never meant to be successful, and that it was, in fact, a mere diversion, to assist the French in getting into the Malakoff. To any one acquainted with the facts, or to those who were present, this theory must appear, not only not ingenious, but ludicrous and contemptible. Indeed, the truth is, that an assault was not merely intended to be successful, but that it was looked upon as certain to succeed. No one hinted a doubt of the carrying of the Redan, though there was a general expression of opinion, among those who knew the case, that the force detailed for the storm was perilously small, and some few, as I heard, also found fault with the position of the reserves, and thought they were placed too far in the rear to be of service in case of a check.

Our losses were severe, and they were not alleviated by the consolations of victory. No less than 22 officers and 247 men were killed, 78 officers and 1,207 men were wounded. The French lost 39 officers killed and 93 wounded; 1,600 rank and file killed or taken prisoners, and about the same number wounded—so that the loss of the Allies, on the 18th of June, amounted to nearly 5,000 officers and men. The Russians admitted a loss of 5,800; but it is remarkable in their return that the proportion of their officers killed is very much less than ours. In our army one officer was killed to every eleven men—one was wounded to every fifteen. In the French army one officer was killed to thirty men, and one was wounded to every sixteen men. In the Russian army the proportion of killed was about one officer to forty-nine men—of wounded, one officer to thirty-one men. General Jones was wounded over the trench. General Eyre was disabled by a severe cut on the head, but kept with his men till they were established in the Cemetery.

HARROWING SCENES.

The detachments from the Naval Brigade consisted of four parties of sixty men each, one for each column, but only two of them went out, the other two being kept in reserve; they were told off to carry scaling-ladders and wool-bags, and to place them for our storming parties. Captain Peel, who commanded, was wounded. His aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Wood, midshipman of H.M.S. Queen, though badly wounded, got up to the abattis, and rendered himself so conspicuous for a gallantry of which he had given several proofs on previous occasions, that Lord Hardinge presented him with a commission of the 13th Light Dragoons on his expressing a desire to exchange into the army. In No. 1 party, Lieutenants Urmston, Dalyell, and Parsons, were wounded. In No. 3, Lieutenant Cave was wounded, and Lieutenant Kidd killed. No. 2 and No. 4 party did not advance, and lost no officer. When the men retreated, overwhelmed by the storm from the enemy's battery, several officers and men were left behind wounded. Lieutenant Kidd got into the trench all safe, and was receiving the congratulations of a brother officer, when he saw a wounded soldier lying out in the open. He at once exclaimed—"We must go and save him!" and leaped over the parapet in order to do so. He had scarcely gone a yard when he was shot through the breast, and died an hour after. A private soldier of the 33rd, a native of Cork, named Richard Worrell, displayed the most touching devotion on the same occasion. When the regiment returned to the trenches it was discovered that a young officer named Heyland was missing. The enemy's guns were sweeping the front of the trenches. Worrell did not hesitate for a moment. "I'll go out," said he, "and bring him in if he's wounded, or die beside him." He kept his word. His body was found pierced with balls, close to that of his officer.

All the advantage we gained was the capture of the Cemetery, and the small Mamelon near it. The French sent over an engineer to examine the ground, and as that officer expressed an opinion that it was desirable to hold the place with a view to ulterior defensive works being erected upon it, General Eyre was assured that a strong body of men would be marched into it at night. As these troops never arrived, Colonel Adams retired from the Cemetery at night, leaving only a picket, which was also withdrawn in compliance with the instructions General Eyre received from head-quarters, which were to the effect that if the French did not occupy the work our troops were to withdraw. On the following morning, Lieutenant Donnelly of the Engineers heard that the position for which we had paid so dearly was not in our possession. He appreciated its value—he saw that the Russians had not yet advanced to reoccupy it, begged and borrowed some thirty men, with whom he crept into the Cemetery. As soon as the armistice began, the Russians flocked down to the Cemetery, which they supposed to be undefended, but to their great surprise they found our men posted there, and in the evening the party was strengthened, and the Allies constructed most valuable works and batteries there.

The natural consequence, in civilized warfare, of such a contest as that recorded above, is an armistice to bury the dead. It was our sad duty to demand it next day, for our dead lay outside our lines, and there were no Russian corpses in front of the Redan or Malakoff. We hoisted a white flag in the forenoon, but there was no such emblem of a temporary peace displayed by the Russians. Officers and soldiers eager to find the bodies of their comrades, waited patiently and sadly for the moment when friendship's last melancholy office could be performed. At last it became known that the armistice was to take place at four o'clock in the afternoon.

It was agonizing to see the wounded men lying under a broiling sun, parched with excruciating thirst, racked with fever, and agonized with pain—to behold them waving their caps faintly, or making signals towards our lines, over which they could see the white flag waving. They lay where they fell, or had scrambled into the holes formed by shells; and there they had been for thirty hours! how long and how dreadful in their weariness! A soldier who was close to the abattis saw a few men come out of an embrasure, and fearing he should be unnoticed, raised his cap on a stick and waved it till he fell back exhausted. Again he rose, and managed to tear off his shirt, which he agitated in the air till his strength failed him. His face could be seen through a glass; and my friend, who watched him, said he could never forget the expression of despair with which the poor fellow folded his shirt under his head to await the mercy of Heaven.

The red-coats lay thick over the broken ground in front of the abattis of the Redan. Blue and grey coats lay in piles in the raincourses before the Malakoff. I rode down with some companions past the old 13-inch mortar battery in advance of our Picket-house into the Middle Picket Ravine, at the end of which began the French approaches to their old parallel, which was extended up to their recent conquest, the Mamelon. A body of light cavalry moved down the Woronzoff road a little later, and began extending their files right and left in a complete line across the whole of our front, with the object of preventing any, except those who were on duty, getting down to the neutral ground. However, my companions and myself got down into the ravine before the cavalry halted just behind the Picket-house. This ravine was paved with shot and shell. The earth gleamed here and there with bullets and fragments of lead. In one place there was a French picket posted in a bend of the ravine, sleeping under their greatcoats, raised on twigs, to protect them from the sun, smoking or talking gravely. Yes, for a wonder, the men were grave and looked almost sullen; but they were thinking of the comrades whose bodies they would have to inter. By the side of this ravine—your horse must needs tread upon them, if you were not careful in guiding him—was many a mound, some marking the resting-place of individual soldiers, others piled over one of those deep pits where rank and file reposed in their common glory.