The British Expedition to the Crimea

by Sir William Howard Russell

The camp before Sebastopol, into which Russian projectiles not unfrequently obtruded, was nevertheless tranquil and laborious, as some new settlement in Australian bush or America's backwoods. The Russians continued to pound away at intervals at the ruins of the town they had been forced to abandon. They did little harm to us, and might as well have saved the ammunition, which they often condescended to expend even on a single soldier, wandering among the broken walls or across the plain. Our old friend Bilboquet, long silent, now opened his mouth, and sent shot at the works by Traktir Bridge, or at anything he saw moving in the valley below his muzzles. The English army, convinced that it was to winter in camp, set seriously to work to guard against the effects of weather from which it suffered so grievously, and to make itself as comfortable as possible. Hutting and road-making were the occupations of the hour, and rapid progress was made in both. Strong wooden huts sprang up on every side, and here and there a solid stone dwelling was in course of construction.

It was a striking contrast between the sufferings of the former winter—exposure, want of clothing, and famine—with the prospect of plenty and comfort, and it was pleasant to observe the cheerfulness and the activity that prevailed. Drainage was not neglected, and, indeed, it was a question whether it was not almost overdone. Some of the ditches, dug along each side of the roads, and around the stores, hospital huts, and other establishments, were of formidable width and depth, and of a dark night proved dangerous to wanderers through the camp, especially if they had been taking "just one more glass" in the quarters of some hospitable friend. But the rain frequently descended in torrents, the water swept down the slopes in sheets and floods, and deep drainage was essential.

Mr. Doyne, the superintendent of the Army Works Corps, proceeded vigorously with his labours. Mr. Doyne divided the road into miles, and at every mile was placed a station-hut and a lamp, with a corporal and two men to act as police. We heard nothing but the clatter of the spade and the thud of the pick, varied by frequent explosions of small mines, with which builders and road-makers got rid of the rock that impeded their work. Besides working at the roads, parties were busy at various small jobs, clearing wells, &c. But the want of proper system and organization, which was so often deplorably shown during this war, was again visible. With different arrangements, half the men, perhaps a quarter of them, could have done the work of the whole 10,000 employed on the roads, and probably have done it better, because they would have been less crowded. Thus, for instance, a regiment of the Third Division, at the farthest extremity of the camp, marched down to work at Balaklava, returning at night, daily performing a distance of nearly fifteen miles. Of course, this was just so much power taken out of the men, and the army was full of boys whose strength was not equal to a good day's work. It could not, in fact, be got out of them, even though they had not to walk long distances.

There were frequent alarms, but many were of opinion—some of them persons whose opinion had weight—that our Muscovite friends had not the remotest idea of attacking us, and that Lord Panmure's information to a contrary effect, derived from Berlin, proceeded, in fact, from St. Petersburg, or, at any rate, from friends of our enemies, who desired to prevent us taking advantage of what little fine weather remained to undertake fresh expeditions against them.

The telegraph brought information that the Russians were about to abandon the north side also. There was no visible sign of such evacuation, nor was there any probable reason to assign for it, excepting that the Russians would find it impossible to supply their army during the winter. On this point opinions differed widely. Some thought that the Russians would experience no difficulty in bringing enough supplies by the road from Perekop; others doubted that the road was sufficient, and were also of opinion that the Russian means of transport would run short. It was pretty certain that no large depôt of provisions existed, and also that none had ever existed, not even at the commencement of the siege, near at hand. In the previous winter the Russians—who doubtless never contemplated a siege of such duration, and probably never dreamt of an attack by land at all, or made sure of speedily beating off any naval force brought against their great fortress—had a constant stream of supplies pouring into the town. It was urged that they had taken advantage of the summer to lay in stores; but the drought of that season was as unfavourable to such an operation as the wet and cold and heavy roads of winter; and, unless by camels, which could do but little, transport must have been very difficult. The loss of beasts of draught and burden must have been prodigious, and the wear and tear of the ill-made carts proportionately large. The chief motive for retaining the position was, that negotiations would be conducted more favourably that winter, whilst the enemy had a footing in the Crimea, than if they had moved out, leaving us to garrison Sebastopol and Simpheropol.

On the 15th of October, the army was ordered to be under arms at half-past 5 A.M.; working parties, for railways, roads, &c., to come on duty at 9 instead of 8 A.M.: this latter relaxation was granted in order to give the men time to breakfast and refresh themselves after the turn-out.

Late on Wednesday night (October 17th) the reserve ammunition column was warned to be ready early in the morning, as there was every probability of an attack. On Thursday forenoon (October 18th) the French were formed up in the Valley of the Tchernaya, awaiting a foe who came not. About noon, fresh movements of troops were made; and it was reported that large masses of Russians were visible, but the enemy did not show.

On Saturday afternoon, October 20, our Allies treated the Russians to a fine view of the Imperial Guard in the cavalry plain of Balaklava. The day was fine, and ponies were put into requisition, and no end of scarlet jackets, interspersed with the blue frocks of the cavalry, might be seen converging from all points towards the parade-ground. The Grenadiers, Chasseurs, Zouaves, Engineers, and Artillery of the Guard, were drawn up across the plain. General M'Mahon, followed by a numerous staff, to which Sir Colin Campbell and a large number of English officers temporarily attached themselves, minutely inspected them. The Grenadiers looked martial and imposing in their long blue coats and lofty bearskins; the Chasseurs smart and active in their excellent and service-like costume; the Zouaves, as usual, picturesque and effective. The Chasseurs and Zouaves excited the admiration of our officers. They were then probably the most perfect soldiers in the world—I do not mean in respect to fighting merely, but as regards military qualities and dress, equipment, powers of marching and endurance—everything, in short, that constitutes perfection in a soldier.

CHANGES AND FAREWELLS.

The Russians meantime continued firing at the town, week after week, with little reply. They fired principally at Sebastopol Proper, but now and then they dropped a shot or shell into the Karabelnaia, and sometimes took the flagstaff on the Malakoff for their mark. Occasionally, some artillery officer, as if suddenly exasperated, jumped up in a fury, and ordered half a dozen mortars to be fired at once. It is difficult to understand why the Allies spared the place, unless it were that we expected them to walk away, and leave us their forts in good condition, which was expecting rather too much. Outside the town the French set hard at work levelling siege works, filling up trenches, &c., though why they took that trouble it was hard to say, unless they contemplated the probability that they, in their turn, might be besieged by the Russians.