Small results gained by the Allies—Sudden determination to attack Sevastopol—Russian position in the Trans-Caucasian provinces—Conditions under which the Crimea was invaded—The allied Armada sails from Varna to Eupatoria—Landing effected at “Old Fort”—The move to Sevastopol; the order of march—The enemy on the Alma river, opposes the advance of the Allies—Description of the field of battle; strength and position of the enemy—Commencement of the battle of the Alma—Advance of the Light and the Second Divisions—Deployment of the First Division—Advance of the Guards and Highland Brigades—Defeat of the Russians—No pursuit—Losses—Bravery and steadiness of the British troops—The Allies lose valuable time after the battle—Arriving at last before their objective, Sevastopol, they refuse to attack it—General description of Sevastopol.

Hitherto the Anglo-French Allies had done nothing in the great struggle, which had been raging between Russia and Turkey since the autumn of 1853, though they had been officially at war with the former for more than five months, and were preparing for the strife before hostilities had been declared. There was much cause for disappointment at this inglorious result; and it was humiliating to the gallant armies of the two foremost nations of Europe, to be sent to the East, merely to eat out their hearts in inactivity, when feats of valour against the enemy were performed almost within earshot of their camps. Nor was the excuse put forward for this apathy—the want of transport—of any value; for every member of the Government knew that transport is indispensable to an army’s motion, and that without it no campaign is possible. That it could have been obtained is not to be denied; and the conclusion is irresistible, that the intention of taking the field in earnest, did not enter into the calculations of our Cabinet. But now, when the enemy, driven out of the Principalities, effected his escape under the friendly cover of an Austrian force, when the Tsar, moreover, in no mood to sue for peace, still breathed defiance, our Government were placed in a difficulty. They had undertaken to make Russia submit; but their diplomacy was unsuccessful, and their demonstrations were disregarded; added to these failures, valuable time had slipped away, and the season was wasted. Something, then, had to be done at once to retrieve the past, for the country was losing its patience, and would brook no further vacillation. Hence a change in policy became inevitable.

The Government had been cautious, not to say timid; but they now entirely altered their demeanour. They suddenly became bold to the verge of rashness, and resolved at any price to take Sevastopol by a coup de main. It is true they were in complete ignorance of the strength, defences, armament, and capacity of that fortress; they knew little of its position, and nothing of the peninsula in which it is situated; and, while the transport of the army was more than defective, the commissariat and medical services were not in a much better condition. But these things seem to have pressed them lightly. Their opinion was strong, that Sevastopol was sure to fall, directly the Allied forces appeared before its ramparts; and its destruction, they doubted not, would bring about a peace, and cause the Tsar to relinquish his arrogant pretensions. As soon, therefore, as the raising of the siege of Silistria put an end to the war on Ottoman territory, they hastened to frame a despatch to Lord Raglan, dated June 29th, directing that an expedition against Sevastopol should be prepared. The despatch was so worded, that it left the British Commander little option but to comply. He therefore accepted the arduous undertaking which was pressed upon him, though he did so very much against his better judgment, and he announced his intention to the Government in a letter, dated July 19th.^[217] It was early in September, as we have seen, before the armada was ready to sail from Varna.

There can be no doubt, that it was anomalous and very inconvenient to send out a military expedition to check Russian aggression with no rational plan of action. In the beginning of the year, the terror which the supposed omnipotence of the Emperor Nicholas inspired, made us believe that all our efforts would be required to save Turkey from certain and swift destruction. We even imagined that Constantinople was in imminent danger; and the French rushed to Gallipoli, to take up a flanking position against the hostile columns, which were almost immediately expected to assault that city. This was our only plan, and we trusted to events to develop another for us, should it be required. When, therefore, we found that the result of the war on the Danube had overturned all our preconceived ideas, we were unprepared for such an event; and we drifted towards the first plausible scheme put forward, irrespective of ways and means. Hence, the descent on Sevastopol was in the nature of an afterthought: a crude design, hastily proposed and rashly adopted, without reflection or calculation, and concerted without reference to the Commanders at the seat of war, who, nevertheless, were forced to accept it, and were held responsible for its execution.

After the collapse of the campaign in the Principalities, the urgent question naturally arose—where was Russia to be attacked, and how was she to be coerced by the Western Powers? There were vitally delicate joints in the armour of that Empire, not inaccessible to our resources, in Poland and in Finland. But the resuscitation of the oppressed northern nationalities formed no part of our policy; they were held to be beyond the scope of our aspirations. So we confined ourselves to a few inconclusive descents on the coast of the Baltic, and the enemy had no serious cause of disquietude in this important portion of his dominions. Our intervention, therefore, in these quarters need not further be discussed.^[218] The army being in the Levant, principal operations were to be conducted there.^[219] The Crimea, no doubt, occupies an important position in the Black Sea, and its conquest would necessarily cramp the future plans of Russian aggrandisement. But who was to hold it, if it were taken? Sevastopol, also, situated in the peninsula, is a land-locked harbour, and a base of naval operations, defended from the sea, and, in 1854, it was partially protected, on the land fronts, by some indifferent works. If there were a good prospect of rapidly capturing it, the design to do so had much to recommend it. Such an event would injure the prestige of Russia, on which she greatly relies for acquiring power; it would temporarily put an end to a secure harbour suitable to maintain her fleet in the Black Sea, and it would be one step towards the conquest of the Crimean Peninsula. But was the chance—the slender chance—of prompt success worth the risk? Why enchain our whole forces before the walls of a single and isolated fortress, if the coup de main were to miscarry, and a lengthened siege became necessary? Was not the Euxine in our sole possession, and, as long as this remained so, was not Sevastopol outside the sphere of military operations, and entirely innocuous?

Austria had been allowed to close the western theatre of operations against the belligerent Powers. But it never seemed to have occurred to them to cast a thought on that other theatre of war, which still lay open to their attack in Asia. During 1854, the Turks were in disorder there; acrimonious quarrels broke out among the leaders of their forces, and, though the Russians made no great progress, the fortunes of the war were deciding against our allies, to the detriment of the cause we had undertaken to defend. In this quarter, moreover, we had every prospect of success; we should have exposed ourselves to the least risk, and, if victory crowned our efforts there, we should have secured the most brilliant results. This field of operations, not distant from the Crimea, offered ample scope for our energies, and, as we approached it in 1855, though we did not avail ourselves of its advantages, a brief allusion to it must here be made.

The Caspian Sea is connected with the Euxine by a chain of lofty mountains (the Caucasus), which runs from Baku, on the former, to near Poti, on the latter, and then, taking a north-westerly direction, skirts the shore as far as Anapa, close to the straits of Yeni-kale. The Caucasus forms the natural southern limit of Russia, but, in the course of years, by the incomparable ability and, perhaps, by the unscrupulous character of the policy pursued at St. Petersburg, the frontiers of the Empire have been pushed south of these mountains, pressing upon Persia on the Araxes, and on the Ottoman Empire in Armenia. Now, communications with these Trans-Caucasian provinces (Mingrelia, Georgia, etc.) were insecure in 1854; for, inhabiting the northern slopes of the great range were vigorous, unsubdued races of hardy mountaineers, called by the general name Circassians, who for years had preserved their liberties and independence, in spite of the efforts of the Tsar to enthrall them. This eastern Switzerland had some claim upon our sympathy, if not because of the cause of freedom for which the people struggled, at least on account of the peculiar position they occupied on the Russian line of communications. Nor should it be forgotten that the subjugation of these mountaineers affected, in no slight degree, the tranquillity and the future security of India; for, until they were overcome, the systematic advance of Russia into Central Asia was not easily accomplished. Operations to support the Circassians and the kindred tribes in the Caucasus, had the advantage, then, of directly protecting, in the far East, those interests, to secure which, we had embarked in the war; and, if they had been successful, as they could not fail to be successful, even by the employment of a moderate force, the enemy must have lost Trans-Caucasia. The Russian Empire, considered to be safe from attack, was very vulnerable in this quarter, at a time when the mountain region was still unsubdued; and a blow struck there, making the Allies masters of the situation, would necessarily have enabled them to settle the Eastern Question as they thought best for the welfare of Europe. But the influence which was exercised over the Tsar’s aggressions in Turkey, by the brave races, who for so long held the passes against tremendous odds in defence of their homes, was scarcely recognized and hardly noticed in the West in 1854.^[220]

We have already seen that, owing to the benevolence displayed by Austria to the Russians, the latter were enabled to retire from the Danube into Bessarabia unmolested by the pursuing Turks. This act on the part of a Power regarded as a friend by Great Britain, cost us dear shortly after this time. Its immediate consequences were, however, not unnoticed, and it was plain both to the allied Governments and to the Commanders, that the enemy would push his forces into the Crimea, without delay, if he got an inkling that an attempt on Sevastopol were imminent. Unfortunately the enemy got more than a hint as to our intentions. In order to prepare for the success of a coup de main on a position, it is evident that one essential condition to be observed is secrecy; nor is it immaterial to mislead the enemy by false attacks, alarms, and reports. But exactly the reverse took place. No demonstrations were made, and we blazoned our design to the whole world; the English press spoke of it freely and openly, since the end of June; and Marshal St. Arnaud had the imprudence to issue a vainglorious proclamation to his army, on the 25th of August, which ended with the following inflated words: “Bientôt nous saluerons ensemble les trois drapeaux réunis flottant sur les remparts de Sévastopol de notre cri national, Vive l'Empereur!”

A plan, previously concerted with the Officers who were to carry it out, upon so difficult a subject as the operation in hand, could not have been matured and adopted, unless the means of isolating the Crimea from the rest of Russia, had also been considered. There are two principal lines by which the peninsula is fed from the main land. The isthmus of Perekop and the Sea of Azof. The former, unconnected with the great river system of the Empire, was of service mainly to bring portions of the army of Bessarabia to the neighbourhood of Sevastopol. The latter, however, receiving the waters of the Don, served to take down reinforcements and supplies from the interior to the new seat of war. The despatch of the 29th of June already alluded to, contains a passage on this matter: “As all communications by sea are now in the hands of the Allied Powers, it becomes of importance to endeavour to cut off all communication by land, between the Crimea and the other parts of the Russian dominions.” It would have been fortunate if, in accordance with these instructions, we could have seized the narrow isthmus of Perekop, but we did not do so, and it remained open to the enemy. On the other hand, a small body of troops could have gained a footing near Kertch, and have maintained itself there; for, the Allied naval resources were more than ample to support it, to occupy and dominate the Sea of Azof, and to cut the Crimea off completely from the supplies sent down the river Don, from the large depôts and magazines established in its vicinity. Such an expedition, moreover, would have served to blind the enemy as to the intentions of the invaders with regard to Sevastopol, and have made him uncertain whether the ultimate aim was not to operate in the neighbourhood of the Caucasus. Having much to lose in this quarter, he was all the more sensitive to pressure there, and greater deception could thus have been practised on his fears.

That these expeditions did not take place at that time, is probably to be ascribed to the belief of the Commanders that the whole force was little enough, in order successfully to carry Sevastopol by storm. The orders they received from home did not contemplate a lengthy operation. Not for an instant did any one suppose, that it could last through the winter. It was late in the year; barely six weeks, or at least two months, of good weather could be expected to continue. It was known that the winter in the Black Sea region was intensely severe and cold; there was no provision made for the army against the terrible hardships which the snow, frost, and hurricanes of the Crimea must entail. The plan proposed to the allied Commanders was a short operation, and by them it was so accepted; it was a descent upon a coast, a march, and an assault. Fixing their eyes intently upon this plan, the importance of attacks on the enemy’s communications, dwindled in their estimation, and lost much of its value. Expeditions of this nature, were fitted rather to a regular siege, which might be expected to last for many months, and were scarcely essential to carry out the object which was then in hand, viz. to bring up every available battalion to the point, where a ready-prepared and decisive victory was to be gained.

These preliminary observations are necessary to a Regimental history, as an introduction to the events which are now to be recorded. For if they were not stated, it would be impossible for the reader to understand the reasons for the hardships, which our troops had soon to suffer, or to appreciate the glorious part they played in a calamitous war, where their fortitude and courage not only saved, but enhanced, the military greatness of Great Britain, and stood out in bright relief to so much that was unfortunate and damaging to our reputation as a nation of the first magnitude in Europe. It may in truth be stated, that to the British soldiers, and to the Officers who led them, the country owes it that a national catastrophe did not occur. Their discipline and dogged resolution never wavered for an instant, and they carried England unscathed through the ordeal. A history dealing with the actions of a Regiment engaged on that memorable occasion, would be sadly incomplete, if it failed to show this truth, or to describe the false positions in which the vital interests of this country became unhappily involved, and from which it was extricated solely by the manly bearing, and unflinching self-sacrifice of the army.

The armada, which left the shores of Bulgaria on the 7th of September, did not immediately sail to its destination; part of the Allied fleet had started before that date, but the whole met together on the 8th, and next day the British portion anchored in deep water some miles east of the Isle of Serpents. Lord Raglan now left to reconnoitre the coast, and to select a landing-place. His French colleague was ill, and could not accompany him. Proceeding from Balaklava to Eupatoria, he finally selected a stretch of sandy beach, covered by lagoons, at a spot marked on the maps as “Old Fort,” situated some twelve miles south of the latter town, and about twenty-five from Sevastopol.^[221] Meanwhile, the Allied flotilla again got into communication, the slower sailing ships coming up to the rendez-vous. On the 12th, the magnificent and orderly array of the united fleets, occupying nearly nine miles of sea room, approached the Crimea, and converged on Old Fort; and then our men got a first welcome glimpse of the strange and unknown country they were about to invade. Next day, Eupatoria was summoned, and surrendered without a shot being fired; and on the 14th, exactly the forty-second anniversary of the triumphant entry of Napoleon I. into Moscow, the Allies began to land, the Turks on the right, then the French, and the British on the left.

The sea voyage braced up the health of the men; they were fast losing the lassitude and despondency that so lately oppressed them, and were regaining their usual strength, elasticity, and good spirits. “Notwithstanding there is no casting loose the foul fiend—cholera,” and many casualties were reported; but the Coldstream seem to have been spared by the scourge during the passage, though eight sick were unable to disembark, and were sent to the Simoon. A foretaste of cold weather was also unexpectedly experienced, for on the 12th, there was a hail-storm “abundantly accompanied by snow.”^[222]

Before leaving their ships, the troops had the temporary character of the expedition brought strongly before their imagination. The bât-horses, collected with difficulty at Scutari, were left behind in Bulgaria; there was no transport for regimental baggage, except an animal to carry the medicine-panniers. Officers loaded their haversacks and their persons with three days' salt pork, biscuit, and such indispensable articles, that a short campaign required. Dressed in tight-fitting swallow-tailed coatees, resplendent with gold lace, now sadly tarnished, their clothing was scarcely adapted to the harsh trials of actual warfare; added to which, they were weighted and encumbered, and had the appearance of “animated lumps of undigested packages, all cloak, bundle, and hairy cap.” Nor did the men fare any better. It appears that the only heavy part of the knapsack was its wooden frame, and this had been discarded some weeks before; when this was done, it served as a light and fairly good valise in which to carry the necessary kit safely and secure from rain. At the last moment, however, it was feared that the men were still too weak to carry even their lightened packs. But, instead of reducing the articles to be taken therein to a minimum, this minimum, in the shape of a pair of boots, a pair of socks, a shirt, and a forage cap, was ordered to be wrapped in the blanket and great coat; while the knapsack itself, designed to hold them, was left behind on board ship, together with all other articles of private property brought from Varna. Thus an unsightly and most inconvenient bundle was formed, ill-adapted to its purpose, and a doubtful place for the safe keeping of the few articles that were considered indispensable to the soldier’s welfare.^[223] Three days' rations, some cooking utensils, wooden water-kegs, and sixty rounds of ammunition completed the personal equipment brought into the enemy’s country.

From the 14th to the 18th, the disembarkation of the Allies continued, observed by Cossack horsemen until driven away, and interrupted only by the rolling waves, which, tumbling on the beach, made it sometimes unsafe to land the horses and guns. The Light and First Divisions were on shore on the 14th; the Guards Brigade, remaining in formation till the afternoon, marched inland for about three miles, after the Light Division had started, where they bivouacked for the night. The morning was fine, but the evening turned very cold, the wind rose, and the rain came down in torrents, drenching all ranks and conditions, from the Divisional Commander, H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, to the youngest drummer. It was an inhospitable welcome that awaited our first night on the Crimean coast, but the men were in good heart, and made light of their misfortunes. On the 16th, a few tents were landed, but, for want of transport, they had to be returned on board the following day,—except one, which was retained for the sick, and was to be carried between the medicine-panniers on the hospital bât-horse. The story of the halt near Old Fort, would not have been complete had there been no “scare” to record. Was it ever wanting among troops, who for the first time await the approach of an enemy? Here it took place about midnight on the 16th, when an alarm was raised of the approach of Cossacks, and the troops turned out hurriedly; nor was it unlikely that the Russians would endeavour to attack the Allies, before they were ready to advance from the coast. Upon this occasion, however, a false report only had gained credence; there was no enemy in the vicinity, and the occurrence, though startling for the moment, doubtless, eventually served to steady the nerves of men who had never yet heard a shot fired in anger. In one way, things went smoothly enough, at all events in the camp of the Brigade, who, placed near a friendly Tartar village, bought small sheep at two shillings each, and fowls for fourpence or fivepence; but the dreaded cholera still hovered about, and one man of the Battalion died, after a few hours' sickness, on the 17th.

At last, early on the 19th, all arrangements being completed, the troops, horses, and guns landed, a small number (250) of country carts collected, and some cattle, sheep, and other supplies procured from the neighbourhood, the Allies began their march to Sevastopol, supported by the fleets that steamed slowly along the coast in the same direction. They numbered rather less than 60,000 men and 128 guns, and as the French and Turks had no cavalry with them, the united army had only one brigade (Lord Cardigan) to rely on. Marshal St. Arnaud marched near the sea; Bosquet’s division was in front, followed by Prince Napoleon on the left, by Canrobert on the right, and by Forey in rear; and, lastly, the Turks and the baggage and reserve ammunition, were in the open space which was surrounded by these four divisions. The British army moved on the left of the French, and were thus placed on the exposed flank; the Second and Light Divisions leading, the former nearest our allies, followed respectively by the Third and First Divisions, the Fourth marching after the First. The guns were on the right of their divisions, the infantry in double column of companies from the centre of battalions, and the cavalry divided, two regiments on the left flank, two covering the advance, and one in rear. This formation was adopted, because, the left of the Allies being undefended, it was not improbable that the enemy might venture to make an onslaught upon that flank from Simferopol. The weather was sultry, and the advance lay across a vast rolling plain, destitute of trees and shrubs, and swept bare of inhabitants and supplies by the Russian cavalry. After two hours, the heat affected some of the men, and, the ever-recurring plague of cholera still dogging their footsteps, victims to its ravages began to fall out.

But in the afternoon the attention of the troops was diverted from these scenes of suffering; shots were heard in the front. The enemy was expected to take up a position near one of the rivers that flow at right angles across the Eupatoria post-road, on both sides of which the Allies were advancing; and here, at length, on the Bulganak, the divisions in rear thought that they were going to try conclusions with the enemy. In a very short time, however, the firing proved to be but a skirmish; for, after the expenditure of a few rounds, the Russians—6000 infantry, 2000 cavalry, and two batteries—moved back, before they had made us deploy much of our force, and left us in possession of the stream without further resistance. There we bivouacked for the night, in the full assurance that a great action would be fought on the following day.

According to an estimate of the enemy’s forces in the Crimea, made by the Foreign Office at home, it was computed that there were some 45,000 men near and in Sevastopol, excluding troops which might be drawn from the Caucasus and Bessarabia. Of this estimate Lord Raglan had been informed, but it seems he placed no great reliance upon it. He knew, however, that the Russians were relatively strong in cavalry, and that their army was commanded by Prince Menshikoff.

It was between nine and ten before the Allies moved from their bivouacs on the morning of the 20th, the British army bringing their left shoulders up, to get into closer communication with the French. On reaching the top of a grassy ridge which looks over the valley of the Alma, the position taken up by the enemy on the heights above that stream, first came into sight, and immediate preparations were made to dislodge him. The field of battle is a sloping plain from the north to the river, which is fordable in summer, from whence springs abruptly on the south bank, to a height of 300 to 400 feet, a commanding range of hills overlooking the plain, and running from the sea, for a distance of five miles, to a bluff called Kurgané Hill.^[225] The river makes a trifling bend, forming a slightly re-entering angle towards these heights, on the western side of the Kurgané; and here the post-road crosses the stream, close to the village of Burliuk, by a wooden bridge, which had not been destroyed. This point marked the junction of the English right and the French left. On the French section of the field, the heights press close and cliff-like to the river, but they recede and become more accessible for a mile to the west of the angle mentioned. Roads available for guns ascend the hills at the mouth of the Alma, at the village of Almatamak, at a farm a mile further up, and again close to Burliuk, where, on the Russian side, the ground is more practicable; this last road leads to a height known as the Telegraph Hill. On the English section, the heights are further from the river, and the ascent is everywhere easy for all arms; but on that very account it was the more difficult to storm, for here the ground could be swept with fire, and the defenders had every facility for making counter-attacks. The tops of the hills form a wide plateau, stretching southwards towards the Katcha river, indented only near the angle, by a depression between the Kurgané and Telegraph Hills, through which the post-road rises, as it proceeds to Sevastopol.^[226]

The Russian army, numerically weaker than the Allies, being 33,000 infantry, 3400 cavalry, and 120 guns, occupied the plateau. The main portion, 21,000 infantry, 3000 cavalry, and 84 guns, was placed on Kurgané and on the post-road, opposite the English section; the remainder, 12000 infantry, 400 cavalry, and 36 guns, near the post-road and on Telegraph Hill, were opposed to the French. The cavalry took post on the enemy’s right and rear, supported by horse artillery; but no troops were further to the west, where the ground was under fire from the war-ships. Menshikoff, however, forgot, though he had time at his disposal, to block the roads which ascend the cliff and the rough precipitous hillsides opposite the French position. Nor did he construct fieldworks on his front and right flank, contenting himself with only two gun-epaulments on Kurgané, one of which, about 300 yards from the river, was armed with 14 heavy guns of position.

There was a pause when the Allies approached the position they were about to assail, during which the troops refreshed themselves with cold pork and biscuits, after their march on a warm and glorious morning. In the interval, all eyes were turned to the heights that frowned in front, and saw in the distance the hostile sharpshooters extended along the river, in the vineyards and gardens, through which the advance was about to be made. Nor were we unconscious that the whole of our force was easily to be discerned, and our intentions to be divined by our antagonist; for we halted boldly on the sloping plain, in full view of the enemy, who, perched on the higher ground, was enabled to make his observations and to conceal much of his own order of battle from our anxious gaze. Meanwhile, the two Commanders-in-chief were concerting their plans. They had met before, but this was their final consultation. St. Arnaud had fixed and strong ideas on the situation; he was voluble in expressing them, and, though zealous and brave, he was somewhat shallow and self-opinionated. Lord Raglan’s first care was to insure a good understanding with his impetuous colleague. He was hampered by the alliance; and there was no supreme Commander to give a decision at this moment when unity of action was indispensably necessary. The Chiefs parted, and came to no definite conclusion; unless a hazy understanding can be called so, that the French were to try and turn the Russian left, but that the British could not do the same thing on the other flank “with such a body of cavalry as the enemy had in the plain.”^[227]

At one o’clock Bosquet’s division advanced. One brigade with the artillery, pushed through Almatamak and up the road there; the remainder, and the Turks, some 10,000 men, crossed the Alma near its mouth, and, ascending the pathway that leads thence to the cliff, found themselves far from the battle-field, and never fired a shot during the action. Canrobert took his division along the road at the farm, and debouched on the plateau a mile to the west of Telegraph Hill; but his own artillery followed that of Bosquet, and were with the latter’s left brigade, a mile still further to the west. Prince Napoleon’s division was on Canrobert’s left, and made for Telegraph Hill; while Forey was in second line, in reserve. As the Turks were 7000 strong and the French 28,000, Marshal St. Arnaud had only 25,000 men and 68 guns in action.

The original formation of the British army had not been altered: the Second Division was on the right, the Light on the left, both in the first line, followed by the Third and First in the second line, the Fourth Division in reserve; four regiments of the cavalry covered the left, one followed in rear. The whole, 23,000 infantry, 1000 cavalry, and 60 guns—for part of the Fourth Division were still on the road from Old Fort—covered by the Rifles, now moved forward straight for the enemy’s strong position on Kurgané, the right being directed upon Burliuk. The Russian skirmishers retired, setting fire to that village as the first line approached; while the latter, coming nearly within range of the hostile artillery, deployed. But too little ground had been taken up, and, in spite of every effort to rectify the mistake, the battalions overlapped, and were dangerously crowded. Lord Raglan, in pursuance of the arrangement already made with St. Arnaud, now delayed the attack until the French had time to complete the movement they had begun; but the Marshal was impatient, and before his troops could produce any impression on the enemy’s left, he urged his colleague to wait no longer. In response to this strong request, Lord Raglan ordered his first line to advance.

The Second Division (Sir De L. Evans) was delayed by the conflagration raging in Burliuk; but the Light Division (Sir G. Brown), breaking through the vines and fording the river, gained a footing on the south bank, disordered by the obstacles they met, by the want of space, and by the hot fire poured upon them. General Codrington, heading his brigade and two battalions that joined him—one of Buller’s and one of the Second Division—led them boldly up the slope under the fire of the battery behind the epaulment; while the rest of Buller’s brigade covered his left flank from a threatening movement observed in that direction. On his right were three of Evans’s battalions; the other two, under Adams, having crossed the Alma, below the burning village, pushed into the space to the west of the post-road. The Russians, seriously alarmed at Codrington’s impetuous onslaught, withdrew their heavy guns from the epaulment, except two, which they could not get away, and which were captured. Cheered by this retreat, the British gained the breastwork, and took possession of it; but they now found themselves face to face with large masses of the enemy’s infantry and cavalry, supported by field-guns. The gallant rush in the face of a tremendous fire had come to an end; it was the moment for supports to arrive; but as they were not close enough to be available at this critical moment, the attacking brigade was soon afterwards forced back to the foot of the slope.

Meanwhile, the First Division (Duke of Cambridge) deployed and halted just beyond effective range, watching with enthusiastic animation and breathless interest, the movements of their comrades in front of them. There was more room for them, as they were not overcrowded by the Third Division (Sir R. England), which took up a position somewhat in rear. On the right stood the Guards Brigade in their usual order—Grenadiers on the right, Coldstream on the left, and Scots Fusiliers in the centre; the Highlanders were formed on the left of the division. While they waited, spent round shot came bounding through the ranks like cricket balls. The men, longing to take part in the fray, were in exuberant spirits; the least trifle amused them, and a little Maltese terrier called “Toby,” belonging to the Coldstream drummers, drew loud laughter from the light-hearted soldiery as it gave chase to the Russian round shot which rolled slowly along the smooth ground.

At length Lieut.-Colonel Steele brought the order to advance, and never was it obeyed with greater alacrity and spirit, the whole division moving forward with admirable precision. Approaching the vineyards, the enemy directed his artillery upon our men; but they quickly pushed their way through the tangled shrubs, and over a low wall obstructing their path up to the Alma, which they immediately crossed, and here they found shelter from the fire of the Russians. As it had been impossible to reconnoitre the ground, each regiment had to take its chance of finding a favourable spot, or the reverse, for its passage; and it happened that the Coldstream reached the river, where it makes a large S-shaped bend, so that the greater part of the Battalion had to go through the water three times. Owing to the many obstructions in their way, all three Battalions were in considerable confusion when they arrived at the foot of the southern bank, and they at once began to reform their ranks. Colonel Upton, having halted the Coldstream, called out the markers to the front, quickly assembled the companies upon them, and then wheeled the Battalion into line, before making any further advance, in a manner that would have satisfied the most exacting drill-sergeant on parade in Hyde Park.^[228]

Meanwhile Codrington’s brigade were still in front, clinging to the epaulment they had captured, and engaged in a very unequal struggle with the enemy. Their distress was apparent from the river, and General Bentinck immediately ordered the Scots Fusilier Guards to hurry to their relief before there had been sufficient time to reform their line, and while their ranks were still disordered and their companies mixed up. As they moved forward, they met General Codrington’s Aide-de-camp, who was sent to beg them to hasten to the front as quickly as possible, and they eagerly complied. Just at this moment a series of untoward circumstances occurred. The backward rush of some of the Light Division struck them with tremendous force; an order intended for the 23rd Fusiliers, “Retire Fusiliers!” was heard in the field, and was believed by many of the Fusilier Guards to apply to them; the enemy was close, and in hot pursuit, and his artillery was firing furiously upon them. It was a critical moment, and one that would have been fatal to any but the best troops; but in spite of the gallantry of the Officers, who, running forward, endeavoured to rally the men, two or three companies were swept back by the retreating brigade, and were carried away with them towards the river, while the remainder halted, opened fire, and held their ground.^[229]

As this was going on, the other two Guards Battalions, now completely reformed and in proper order, advanced steadily forward up the hill. Coming into alignment with the Scots Fusilier Guards, and perceiving the hot engagement that was still raging, the left company of the Grenadiers was wheeled back, and fired across the front, while the Coldstream, without changing position, opened upon the Russians as soon as they got the opportunity, and the latter retired. Though there was a gap in the Brigade which could not be immediately closed, the Guards—

Soon they reached the epaulment, firing as they advanced, the enemy giving way before them, and as they came up to the crest of the hill the three companies, previously mentioned, rejoined their Battalion, and the whole Brigade was again complete.^[231] To our left, protecting the left flank of the British army, were the Highlanders in echelon of battalions from the right; and this magnificent corps, handled with great ability, fired into the hostile columns that passed them on their way to the epaulment (round which the fight centred in this quarter of the field), and contributed in no small degree, to lighten the task of the Guards.^[232]

Nor had the British artillery been inactive; pressing forward, they took up positions wherever they were to be found, whence they fired either upon the enemy’s guns or into the solid masses of his infantry. At the moment when the Duke’s division appeared upon the slope, three of Evans’s battalions were engaged near the post-road; two more, under Adams, were further to the right, moving up the hill; England’s Division was crossing the river, and the Fourth Division (Sir G. Cathcart) was still in rear, as a reserve. The first onslaught of the Light Division had shaken the enemy; and now, when opposed to the steady advance of the Guards and Highlanders, he did not long maintain the contest. The Russians were unable to fight in line; they remained throughout the whole day in dense columns.^[233] This faulty formation, adopted to suit the quality of their troops, gave them greater weight had they been able to come to close quarters with their antagonist, but it prevented them from using their muskets, and offered a large target to our fire. On the other hand, the fire of the two British brigades was fully developed. Moving as if on parade, the Guards in line kept up a continuous and well-aimed stream of lead, at short ranges, into the masses in front of them, while the Highlanders in echelon succeeded in striking the right flank of the enemy.^[234] Unable to bear down on the thin lines that opposed them, the Russians wavered, and, with a ringing cheer, our men charged home, and drove them from the field. The English army had cleared the formidable position held by the enemy on Kurgané, as well as from that hill to the eastern slopes of the Telegraph, where the French had now arrived. Menshikoff’s troops fled from the field, and their retreat was so precipitate that it was not even covered by cavalry or artillery. For a short time our batteries played upon their ranks; but Lord Raglan’s request that Marshal St. Arnaud might complete the rout by sending forward his comparatively fresh troops, was met by a frivolous excuse, and there was no pursuit.

The British losses amounted to 106 Officers, 121 sergeants, and 1775 rank and file, total 2002, of whom were killed 25, 19, and 318 respectively. The French, who played a minor part in the action, exaggerated their casualties, which really numbered only 60 killed (including three Officers), and 500 wounded. The Russians put their losses at nearly 6000, but this was probably less than the truth. The Coldstream and the Highlanders had been protected to a great extent by the folds of the ground, and they were fortunately not under the direct fire of the Russian guns, as the other two Battalions of the Division had been. The casualties of the Scots Fusiliers have been already given; those of the Grenadier Guards amounted to 4 Officers and 137 men; the Highland Brigade (three battalions) lost 90 of all ranks. In the Coldstream there were two Officers and 27 men wounded,—of the former, Captain Cust, who succeeded Captain Byng as Aide-de-camp to Major-General Bentinck, died of his wounds immediately after the action; the other, Captain C. Baring, had his arm amputated.

Military critics are disappointed with this battle, and condemn both sides for displaying little tactical knowledge or talent. Menshikoff left almost everything undone, to enable him to make a stand on the ground he had himself selected for barring the march of the Allies. The influence of St. Arnaud, who at this time was in bad health, seemed to damp the usual ardour of the French; and on this occasion they hardly maintained the high standard of their brilliant military reputation. We have seen that Lord Raglan and the Marshal had formed no definite plan of action before the fight began. If they intended to turn the enemy’s left, and drive him off the road to Sevastopol into the interior, the English attack was too soon delivered; and if they hoped to push him towards the sea, they took no measures to effect that object. They pursued neither of these courses, and a mere frontal attack was undertaken, which resulted in dislodging the Russians, but which, in the absence of a vigorous pursuit, involved them in no serious disaster. Lord Raglan, moreover, having ordered the first line to advance, took up a position well in front of his own army, within the ground occupied at that time by the enemy; in this exposed place he watched the course of the battle, but he ceased to be able to control it. Hence the co-operation between his divisional commanders, necessary to the attack, was wanting, and we missed the opportunity of inflicting a greater defeat upon the enemy than we succeeded in doing. Of the bravery of both the Officers and men, of the steadiness and discipline under fire of the rank and file, who for the first time were in action, but one opinion has ever been expressed.