But the armies of the allies were about to enter upon the career of active warfare, and to escape from a spot fraught with memories of death unredeemed by a ray of glory. It was no secret that in the middle of July a council of generals and admirals had, by a majority, overcome the timides avis of some, and had decided upon an expedition to the Crimea, in compliance with the positive orders of the English Cabinet, and with the less decided suggestions of the Emperor of the French. That project had been arrested by the sickness and calamities which had fallen on the French and English armies, but it had not been abandoned.

In the second week in August the cholera assumed such an alarming character that both Admirals (French and English) resolved to leave their anchorage at Baltschik, and stand out to sea for a cruise. On Wednesday the 16th the Caradoc, Lieutenant Derriman, which left Constantinople with the mails for the fleet and army the previous evening, came up with the English fleet. The Caradoc was boarded by a boat from the Britannia, and the officer who came on board communicated the appalling intelligence that the flag-ship had lost 70 men since she left Baltschik, and that she had buried 10 men that morning. Upwards of 100 men were on the sick list at that time. Some of the other ships had lost several men, but not in the same proportion.

After the great fire on the night of the 10th the cholera seemed to diminish in the town itself, and the reports from the various camps were much more favourable than before. The British army was scattered broadcast all over the country, from Monastir to Varna, a distance of twenty-six or twenty-seven miles. The Duke of Cambridge's division marched in from Aladyn, and encamped towards the south-western side of the bay. It appeared that notwithstanding the exquisite beauty of the country around Aladyn, it was a hot-bed of fever and dysentery. The same was true of Devno, which was called by the Turks "the Valley of Death;" and had we consulted the natives ere we pitched our camps, we assuredly should never have gone either to Aladyn or Devno, notwithstanding the charms of their position and the temptations offered by the abundant supply of water and by the adjacent woods. It was the duty of the general in command to pay attention to the representations of the medical officers and the traditions of the natives, which assigned to this locality a most unfavourable character for the preservation of health.

Whoever gazed on these rich meadows, stretching for long miles away, and bordered by heights on which the dense forests struggled all but in vain to pierce the masses of wild vine, clematis, dwarf acacia, and many-coloured brushwoods—on the verdant hill-sides, and on the dancing waters of lake and stream below, lighted up by the golden rays of a Bulgarian summer's sun—might well have imagined that no English glade or hill-top could well be healthier or better suited for the residence of man. But these meadows nurtured the fever, the ague, dysentery, and pestilence in their bosom—the lake and the stream exhaled death, and at night fat unctuous vapours rose fold after fold from the valleys, and crept up in the dark and stole into the tent of the sleeper and wrapped him in their deadly embrace. So completely exhausted was the Brigade of Guards, that these 3,000 men, the flower of England, had to make two marches from Aladyn to Varna, which was not more than (not so much many people said as) ten miles. Their packs were carried for them. How astonished must have been the good people of England, sitting anxiously in their homes, day after day, expecting every morning to gladden their eyes with the sight of the announcement, in large type, of "Fall of Sebastopol," when they heard that their Guards—their corps d'élite—the pride of their hearts—the delight of their eyes—these Anakims, whose stature, strength, and massive bulk they exhibited to kingly visitors as no inapt symbols of our nation, had been so reduced by sickness, disease, and a depressing climate, that it was judged inexpedient to allow them to carry their own packs, or to permit them to march more than five miles a day, even though these packs were carried for them! In the Brigade there were before the march to Varna upwards of 600 sick men.

FINAL DELIBERATIONS.

The Highland Brigade was in better condition, but even the three noble regiments which composed it were far from being in good health. The Light Division had lost 110 or 112 men. The Second Division had suffered somewhat less. The little cavalry force had been sadly reduced, and the Third (Sir R. England's) Division, which had been encamped to the north-west of Varna, close outside the town, had lost upwards of 100 men also, the 50th Regiment, who were much worked, being particularly cut up. The ambulance corps had been completely crippled by the death of the drivers and men belonging to it, and the medical officers were called upon to make a special report on the mortality among them.

In truth, it may be taken as an actual fact that each division of the army had been weakened by nearly one regiment, and that the arrival of the division of Sir George Cathcart did little more than raise the force to its original strength.

The same day Lieutenant A. Saltmarshe, of the 11th Hussars, died of cholera. Dead bodies rose from the bottom in the harbour, and bobbed grimly around in the water, or floated in from sea, and drifted past the sickened gazers on board the ships—all buoyant, bolt upright, and hideous in the sun.

At a Council of War, held at Marshal St. Arnaud's quarters on the 24th of August, the final decision was taken. There were present the Marshal, Lord Raglan, General Canrobert, Sir George Brown, Sir Edmund Lyons, Sir John Burgoyne, Admirals Dundas, Hamelin, and Bruat, and the deliberation lasted several hours. Sir John Burgoyne's views with regard to the point selected for our landing in the Crimea were not quite in unison with those of the Generals who have lately reconnoitred the best locality. It would not have been very politic to have published the decisions of this Council, even if they had been known, though secrets did leak out through closed doors and fastened windows. It was, indeed, said at the time, that the London journals did great mischief by publishing intelligence respecting the points to be attacked. Some people were absurd enough to say, with all possible gravity, that they would not be at all surprised if the whole expedition against Sebastopol were to be abandoned in consequence of articles in the English newspapers. Certainly, if any "dangerous information" were conveyed to the Czar in this way, it was not sent home from the head-quarters of the army, but was derived from sources beyond a correspondent's reach. Considerations connected with geographical position did not appear to exercise the slightest influence on the reason of persons who urged the extraordinary proposition that the publication in a London newspaper of a probable plan of campaign influenced the Czar in the dispositions he made to meet our attack. Even if the Czar believed that plan to be correct—and he might well entertain suspicions on that point—is it likely that he would take the trouble, as soon as he has read his morning paper, to send off a courier to the Crimea to prepare his Generals for an attack on a certain point which they must have hitherto left undefended? His spies in London rendered him much surer and better service. The debates in Parliament threw a much plainer and steadier light upon our movements. And yet so positive was the Emperor Nicholas that all our preparations were shams intended to deceive him, so unintelligible to him were the operations of a free press and free speech, that he persisted in thinking, up the very eve of the descent, that our armies were in reality destined to follow up his retreating legions on the Danube, and he obstinately rejected all Prince Menschikoff's appeals for reinforcements.

Under any circumstances the Russian engineers knew their coast well enough to be ready to defend its weak points, and to occupy the best ground of defence against the hostile descent. They knew our object, if we went to the Crimea at all, must be the reduction of Sebastopol, and of course they took care to render the primos aditus difficiles. When the Furious returned to the fleet, after a cruise along the south-western coast of the Crimea, she saw a Russian intrenched camp of about 6000 men placed above the very spot at which it seemed desirable we should effect a landing. Who told the Russians what the intentions of our chiefs were? Why, they saw an English steam frigate, with Sir George Brown, General Canrobert, and Sir E. Lyons on board, making a deliberate survey of that very spot days before, and it was only natural to suppose that the same strategical knowledge which led the English and French Generals to select this place for the landing warned the Russians that it would be wise to defend it. Certainly it was not any article in a London journal which enabled the Russians to know the point selected by our Generals, so as to induce them to throw up an intrenchment and to form a camp of 6000 men there.