As has been said, there was no pursuit after the battle, and the enemy was allowed to leave the field unmolested. This was the more unfortunate, since the retreat of the Russians degenerated into a rout. But worse followed, for the morning of the 23rd dawned before we stirred from the scene of our success, and two of the most valuable days of the campaign were irretrievably lost to the Allies. The fault was St. Arnaud’s, whom nothing could shake in his determination to remain where he was. Happily the strain of the alliance touched not the troops of either nation, and among them existed warm feelings of an honest camaraderie. Just as the First Division was about to fall in, a French brigade passed by on its southward march, and friendly expressions of mutual recognition and of good will were heard; from us, by lusty cheers and waving of bearskins and bonnets, and from them by hearty cries of “Vivent les Anglais! Vivent les Montagnards!”

Leaving the Alma, the approach to Sevastopol was made by easy stages. On the 23rd a halt was called at noon on the Katcha, where we had the mortification of learning that the heavy field-pieces, which had done us so much damage on the Kurgané heights, had left but four short hours before our arrival. Next day, we reached the Belbek, thirteen miles from the late field of battle, and within striking distance of Sevastopol, the goal of our ambition. And now a strange thing happened. Far from attacking the very position we had come to assail, we even refused to make a reconnaissance to ascertain the nature of its defences, and the force and quality of the enemy holding it.

The expedition, we have seen, was expressly designed to be a speedy operation, and every step taken with respect to it was governed by that one idea; otherwise, it would never have been undertaken in the autumn of 1854. Hence, a coast destitute of secure harbours wherein to form a base of operations, was not considered unsuitable as a landing-place; communications between the Crimea and the rest of the Russian Empire were not intercepted; a line of advance exposed to attack by a relieving army was not rejected; a late season of the year did not put an end to the enterprise; and hence, also, there was no provision made for the winter. These conditions were none of them in accordance with sound military science or practice; but they were accepted, and they led the army to the north side of Sevastopol—to the objective which the Allies designed to reach when they landed at Old Fort. Arriving there, the Anglo-French armies came face to face with an obstacle, some works loomed in the haze before them, and they began to deliberate. Counsellors, not consulted when the expedition was planned, were now admitted as advisers, and they naturally viewed the problem without reference to the past. We had lost touch with the defeated Menshikoff, and it was thought that he probably had his army safe behind the entrenchments in front; the attack might not succeed, a delay might occur, and at any rate it was dangerous to wait when we had no secure base in our rear. In short, the hazardous nature of the expedition which had been forced upon the allied Commanders from home, suddenly burst upon them with a vivid light never experienced before, and they had to recognize, although unfortunately they did not yet acknowledge, that the surprise had failed, that a lengthened siege was inevitable, and that the descent on the fortress, as originally conceived, was a snare and a delusion.

And yet, had the position been reconnoitred, some interesting facts would have been revealed. We should have found the defences weak, imperfectly armed, and garrisoned only by 11,000 men, whose weapons for the most part were antiquated flint-locks, while others were only provided with pikes or cutlasses.^[236] The field-force that fought on the 20th was not there at all; it had hastily retired to the south side to re-organize itself after the disaster it had suffered.

The possession of the north side of Sevastopol offered the Allies considerable advantages.^[237] The town, barracks, dockyards, and arsenal are built on the south side of an extensive creek, deep enough to float the largest ships of war, which runs from the sea in an easterly direction four miles inland, 1000 to 1200 yards in breadth. This inlet, forming the roadstead or harbour of Sevastopol, is defended at its mouth by several strong forts, some of those on the north side being perched on cliffs 100 feet high. The northern bank entirely commands the south side, and rises from the water’s edge more abruptly than the latter. These things were known to the Allies before they landed in the Crimea. It is obvious that, if the invaders could have established themselves on this northern bank, they would have taken the town and some of the forts in reverse; and that, if they could have brought up sufficient guns of the requisite calibre, the fortress itself would have been untenable, and the destruction of the ships in the harbour ensured by the force of plunging fire directed upon them.

While we lingered on the Alma, General Menshikoff had not been idle, and he determined to secure all the advantages which the Russian fleet of the Black Sea might be able to confer. It was hopeless to suppose that this fleet could cope with our own magnificent ships which lay outside the harbour; and indeed, ever since the battle of Sinope, it had been carefully kept out of harm’s way. The only use to which it could be put, was to convert it into an addition to the land defences of Sevastopol; but even then, it would be exposed to danger, for the enemy had a wholesome dread of what the historic daring of British seamen is capable of achieving when directed by an enterprising commander. On the night of the 22nd, therefore, he effectually barred the entrance of the roadstead by sinking seven vessels, and by constructing a boom across it, and thus he secured his shipping from any direct attack which our navy might have contemplated. Hence, the Russian war-ships became stationary floating batteries, and their function was to play their guns upon the ground that bordered the roadstead. For this device, also, the Allies must have been prepared, and might have taken it into consideration before even they started on the expedition. Now, the plateau on the top of the heights overlooking the town from the north, was much less (if at all) exposed to the enemy’s naval artillery than the ground over which the invaders must advance, if they meant to deliver their attack from the south; and the fire directed upon this plateau would be uncertain and inefficient, since considerable portions of it were out of sight of the ships below.

The British Admiral, Sir Edmond Lyons, at that time second in command, never lost sight of the original plan of invasion: he advocated strongly an attack upon the north side, and was prepared to take a prominent part in the action he expected to follow. If successful, the closing of the harbour was of trifling moment. This powerful co-operation was impossible on the south side. Lord Raglan agreed with the Admiral, and was also in favour of striking a blow from the north, as had always been intended. But he was in a position of great difficulty. Some of his own advisers were against the proposal, and the French Marshal, always unfavourable to activity in this quarter, was sinking under a disease that carried him off before the end of the month. The question whether this attack from the Belbek river would have brought about the immediate fall of Sevastopol, need not be further discussed; no attempt was made to ascertain whether it was practicable. Suffice it to say that General Todleben, who defended Sevastopol, afterwards expressed his deliberate opinion, and elaborately argued it out, that the northern plateau was untenable by the Russians, and that operations conducted against it would have led the Allies to a speedy success. Nevertheless, it is important to notice that the original design of taking Sevastopol by a coup de main under the effects of a surprise, was given up before even a reconnaissance was made to ascertain the strength of the objective, to which the Allies were committed by that very design. We shall now see that, refusing to pursue their plan, on account of the serious military errors it disclosed, the Allies were forced to adopt another plan, which equally, if not in a greater degree, violated the canons of the science of war.^[238]

h2 CHAPTER VIII. | BEFORE SEVASTOPOL.

Predicament in which the Allies found themselves—Flank march round Sevastopol—Occupation of Balaklava by the British and of Kamiesh Bay by the French—The Allies refuse to assault Sevastopol; they prefer to bombard it—Depression of the Russians, who fear a prompt assault—Description of the defences round the south side of Sevastopol; successful efforts of the enemy to strengthen them—Description of the upland of the Chersonese, occupied by the Allies; their position and labours—First bombardment and its results—No attack; a regular siege inevitable—Draft of Officers and men to the Coldstream arrive in the Crimea—Establishment of the Regiment—Russian reinforcements begin to arrive—Battle of Balaklava; Cavalry charges—Sortie of the Russians against the British right flank; its failure.

The Allies, at this juncture, found themselves placed in a strange predicament. Their plans had hitherto been successful, and nothing remained to be done except to justify their first resolutions by standing firm to their original purpose. The critical moment at length arrived, and then, in the very presence of the enemy, they changed their minds. They would not operate against the north of Sevastopol; they would attack it from the south, and form a secure base in the harbours of Balaklava and Kamiesh, that indent the coast of the upland plain, called by the ancients the Chersonese. In order to accomplish this new design, they had to march the united armies from the Belbek to the south-west corner of the peninsula, quite close to the fortress they intended to capture. Added to this, the ground over which they had to pass was unknown; they left behind them the broad, open, and treeless plains, where they could march in battle array, ready for emergencies; they now approached a woody, difficult, and intersected country, and had to adopt long columns of route in moving across it. According to the information in their possession, moreover, a hostile army was sheltered somewhere within the lines of Sevastopol; it was believed to be securely posted behind the entrenchments on the northern plateau. They did not wish to meet it there, and, to avoid doing so, they were obliged to have recourse to the only alternative, and to commit a bad military error. They exposed the right of their long columns and their rear to imminent danger, and, courting disaster, invited the Russians to fall upon them, in a position where partial defeat must prove fatal to their existence.

On the 25th the main body, preceded by a regiment of cavalry, a troop of horse artillery, and a battalion of Rifles, left the Belbek, and the perilous flank march commenced. It was carried out in a manner which would have given the fullest advantages to the enemy had he availed himself of them. The general direction was kept, often by consulting the compass; but the difficulties of the country, the thick woods, and the haste which urged us forward, disarranged the order of the troops. At one moment, indeed, the head-quarters, leading the whole advance, were followed by a long procession of thirty guns without supports, and offered a tempting and easy reward to Russian enterprise. But, slow though we may be to recognize it, a miracle does sometimes take place, and in this case it showed itself in the fact, that the extraordinary march proceeded onwards without the slightest mishap. Not only this, but the British even captured some twenty carts from the enemy, though they failed to get hold of the horses, which were cut away directly we came into sight. This meeting came about in a curious way. It happened, as we have seen, that Prince Menshikoff, far from taking post on the north plateau, was refitting his defeated army in the town of Sevastopol south of the roadstead. He came to the conclusion that he ought to preserve his communications with the interior of the Crimea, and support the advance of the reinforcements he expected to come from Bessarabia. At dawn on the 25th, therefore, he, too, emerged from his retreat, crossed the Tchernaya at Traktir Bridge, and, advancing to Mackenzie Farm, marched towards Bakshiserai. Thus it came about that the two contending armies, moving on the same day, and for some time advancing towards one another by the same road, crossed each other’s path, and that neither had the least conception of what the other was doing. It was fortunate that, in this curious game of blind man’s buff, Menshikoff did not strike our columns of route full in the flank; as it was, we justjust happened to drive our ram into the tip of his tail; for, as the head-quarter Staff, stumbling suddenly on the last portion of the enemy’s baggage train as it passed unconsciously by, stood wondering at the sight, a few of our guns hurried up to the rescue, unlimbered, and secured some of his unhorsed carts. Among the booty was a carriage belonging to one of the Russian Commanders, in which were stars, crosses, medals, uniform, French novels, and a portfolio “of coloured prints, the morality of which will not bear discussion.”

The experiences of the First Division on this march should not be omitted. After waiting ready equipped for two hours, the men at length moved off, at 8.30 in the morning, and plunged almost immediately into the forest.

After four hours or more, the troops emerged on a lane blocked by the cavalry and baggage, and squeezed through. A little later they heard an explosion, and, pushing forward, they came upon the scene of the singular meeting that took place between the head-quarter Staff and the rear of the enemy’s army. Continuing along a tolerably good road, they approached the valley of the Tchernaya after dark, and, crossing it at Traktir Bridge, they finally bivouacked near the village of Tchorgun, at ten o’clock at night, “completely exhausted, parched with thirst, and their clothes much torn by struggling through the wood.” Indeed, they were fortunate, for it was one in the morning before the last British division reached its halting ground. The French, who followed their English allies, remained for the night midway on the wooded heights near Mackenzie Farm, where they suffered much from want of water. Next day the movement continued; and the cholera, that accompanied our troops without intermission, burst out with renewed malignity, and struck its victims down on the roadside along our line of march. After three hours, the division reached Kadikeui, about half a mile from Balaklava; while our ships, approaching, threw a few shells into an old Genoese fort, which commanded the harbour, and which was held by a handful of Greek troops in the Russian service; after a mere show of resistance, they surrendered without difficulty. The French also moved forward on the 26th, and established themselves on the Fediukhine heights near the Tchernaya. The Fourth Division, under Sir G. Cathcart, had been left behind on the Belbek, to embark the sick that remained there; on the same day (26th) he, too, started from his bivouac on the north of Sevastopol, and, following the track of the Allied armies, arrived on the Tchernaya without misadventure.

Thus the flank march was completed, and during the whole of the difficult and dangerous operation, lasting two days, the Russians stood by absolutely passive, and the Allies were entirely unmolested. Not a company was cut off, nor was a gun taken. This was the more remarkable since, perceiving the movement from a high tower in Sevastopol, they were accurately informed of our plan at midday of the 25th; General Menshikoff must also have known it, from the meeting that took place between the hostile armies near Mackenzie Farm. It was, indeed, fortunate that we had so forbearing an enemy.

Communications having now been fortunately re-established with the fleet, the British occupied the Bay of Balaklava, the French that of Kamiesh, where their respective bases of operations were formed. Thus we were placed on the right of the new line fronting northwards, and we were again posted upon the exposed flank. About this time, an event of importance occurred to the French. Marshal St. Arnaud got so ill, that he was obliged to give up his command, and to leave the seat of war. He was to be taken to Scutari, but he died on the passage. General Canrobert succeeded him—a valiant, honourable, and straightforward soldier, but one little fitted to take upon himself the onerous responsibilities of his new position.

The Allies now found themselves occupying a fertile country, almost entirely denuded of inhabitants, who fled at their approach, covered with highly cultivated gardens, orchards, and vineyards, which teemed with vegetables and fruit in great abundance. Never were troops so amply supplied as during the first few days of their stay in this land of plenty; but the good things did not last, they were soon exhausted, and could not be replaced. The men were not easily restrained from enjoying to the full the luxurious feast which lay before them, after the fatigues of the forced flank march; though it is to be feared they suffered from its effects, and from the fact that they were still without tents. Cholera continued, and diarrhœa (its pilot-fish) increased considerably.^[240]

The idea seems to have been pretty general among the troops that the flank march was intended to shift the position of the united armies from a strong front of Sevastopol to a weaker side, and that the attack was only delayed until we got close to the southern defences of the town. It was confidently expected that the assault would be soon delivered, and the landing of the siege-train did not put an end to that hope. As days went by, however, it began to be realized that operations of a slower nature were to be begun, and that a siege, not an assault, was to be undertaken. This surmise was entirely correct; though the Chiefs of the armies still held to the belief that, when a bombardment by siege guns had taken place, the defences would be destroyed, and the town would then fall before the winter set in. Lord Raglan personally seems to have been disposed to make an immediate attempt against the enemy’s lines, without incurring this further delay; and this view was certainly shared and supported by Sir George Cathcart, and was also advocated by Sir Edmond Lyons. It was urged that the Russian fortifications were slight and weak at the end of September, when the Allies got within striking distance, and, though we should be stronger against them as soon as the siege batteries were constructed and armed, yet the time required to do so could be utilized by the defenders in so strengthening their works, that the advantages of a delay would accrue to them, and to our detriment. General Canrobert, however, was cautious, and was disinclined to run any risks just as the supreme command was vested in him by the French Emperor. Others, among the British advisers at head-quarters, held the opinion that it was dangerous to deliver an attack unless prepared by artillery fire; they feared that the attempt might cost us 500 men, which loss they hoped would not occur if a siege were opened in the regular manner. Lord Raglan was forced to concur.

During this time the Russian commanders, left in Sevastopol after General Menshikoff’s departure, were in a state of great depression, and believed that the town could not hold out against a vigorous assault. The entire garrison amounted to 35,850 men, made up of heterogeneous elements—one single battalion of regulars (750 men), militia, gunners, marines, seamen, and workmen. Of the latter, there were 5000—a useful body to create a fortress, if time were granted, but useless to repel an immediate attack. Of the sailors set free from the imprisoned fleet, there were 18,500, of whom a fourth part only were well trained or even decently armed.^[241] The south side, moreover, does not lend itself easily to a good defence.^[242] A creek, hardly half a mile broad, called the inner harbour, runs inland for nearly two miles from the main roadstead, terminating in three ravines which ascend the upland of the Chersonese. This inlet divides the town from a suburb, called the Karabelnaya, and as both had to be held against the Allies, there was a formidable obstacle obstructing communications between them. The French, based on Kamiesh Bay, were opposite the western portion of Sevastopol, that is the town itself, from the sea to the head of the inner harbour. The British army on the right, faced Karabelnaya, and were responsible for the ground from the inner harbour to Careenage Bay,—another inlet, half a mile long, which also terminates in a ravine indenting the upland,—where the enemy’s defences ended. The line held by the Russian garrison was about four miles in length: two miles from the sea to the head of the inner harbour, and the same distance onwards to Careenage Bay. On the 25th of September, this long line was imperfectly defended. On the French section, the gorges of the Quarantine and Artillery Forts had been closed, and three bastions or redoubts had been constructed between them and the head of the inner harbour, where the Flagstaff bastion stood, connected, with but little interruption, by a naked loopholed wall. On the British section, there were four works, which were unconnected by wall or entrenchment, known as the Redan, the Malakoff Tower, the Little Redan, and No. 1 Battery, near Careenage Bay. Of these the Malakoff was “a mere naked tower, without a glacis, exposed from head to foot, unsupported by the powerful batteries which were destined to flank it, and uncovered as yet by the works which afterwards closed up round its base.” The whole of the south side of Sevastopol, moreover, was armed with 172 guns, of which by far the greater number faced the French, and only a few the British position.^[243]

The serious and very reasonable apprehension entertained by the Russian chiefs did not, however, prevent them from taking every measure to fortify their position, directly they understood that the Allies were approaching the south side in force. The greatest activity prevailed day and night in the garrison and among the inhabitants, the women and children taking their share of the labour, and thus the works designed by the Russian Engineer Officer, Todleben, were rapidly thrown up. The Anglo-French Commanders never interrupted these operations, nor did they make any demonstrations to try the quality of the defences; they contented themselves with distant reconnaissances, so that in a short time the entrenchments were greatly strengthened, especially the Malakoff, and began to look more formidable than had been the case before; the armament also was being changed, the lighter guns giving place to heavier ordnance drawn from the ships and arsenal.

The upland of the Chersonese, on which the Allies had established themselves, is a sloping plain, trending from a line of hills called the Sapuné Ridge, 500 to 700 feet high, that bounds it on the east, from the head of the roadstead of Sevastopol to a point on the coast some four miles west of Balaklava. The upland is scored by numerous ravines, running from the ridge in a general north-westerly direction to the town and coast; but on the eastern side of the ridge the ground falls abruptly and almost in a cliff-like manner into the valley of the Tchernaya river, which discharges itself into the roadstead. The distance from Balaklava to Sevastopol is nearly eight miles. Of the two roads connecting them, one, the Woronzoff road, was metalled, and, proceeding along the Causeway Heights, formed the main communication with the south of the Crimean peninsula; the other, a mere cart-track or pathway, more to the south, ascended the ridge over the “Col de Balaklava,” three miles from that place, and joined the Woronzoff road two miles further on, on the upland.

This extended position had to be defended from attacks that were to be feared from Menshikoff’s army. The latter, having left Sevastopol, was in easy communication with the town and was securely posted on very defensible ground, from whence it could advance upon the right of the Allies or upon our base at Balaklava. Moreover, the Russians would, before long, be strongly reinforced by troops which, as we have seen, were hurrying without opposition from Bessarabia into the Crimea; but when this event would take place was still uncertain. The Allies had lost all touch with the enemy’s army they had defeated at the Alma, and their hesitation to assault the weak defences that covered Sevastopol directly after the flank march, was in a measure due to their ignorance of what their opponent was doing. In reality he was then many miles away, and had no intention of resuming hostilities without further assistance; he was re-organizing his men, and waiting for the fresh forces he expected from the north.^[244] Only for the moment, therefore, was the right flank of the invaders free from danger, and under no circumstances could it have been left unguarded.

The French divided their army into two Corps. The 3rd and 4th Divisions, under General Forey, formed the besieging force, and took post before Sevastopol, their right on the great ravine which runs into the inner harbour, their left on Streleska Bay. The 1st and 2nd Divisions, together with the Turkish contingent, constituted a Corps of observation, under General Bosquet, and were entrenched on the Sapuné Ridge, facing the east, between the Woronzoff road and the Col previously mentioned. The whole of the British army was engaged in the siege, before the suburb of Karabelnaya, the left on the ravine, in communication with the French, the right upon ground not far from the Sapuné heights. The defence of Balaklava was provided by the 93rd Regiment (withdrawn for the purpose from the Highland Brigade), 1,000 Marines, a battery of Artillery, and a body of Turks (3,500 of whom had been recently despatched to the Crimea, the remainder, two battalions, being lent by the French). These troops, which included a provisional battalion formed of 25 to 30 weakly men drawn from every regiment, were placed under the command of Sir Colin Campbell, who was detached from his brigade. In front of them, in the valley, was Lord Lucan’s cavalry division.

These measures did not, however, secure the right flank of the British siege-works. At this point, the cliff-like appearance of the heights overlooking the Tchernaya partially disappears, and the upland falls towards the roadstead and the river, in numerous spurs, intersected by ravines. This broken country was known to the Allies by the name of Inkerman, and along its foot there ran a road from Balaklava, which, skirting the Tchernaya to the roadstead, proceeded to Sevastopol along the southern shore of the latter. The river, moreover, was crossed at its mouth by a bridge and a causeway, over which another road led to Bakshiserai. This was a vulnerable point in the line adopted by the Allies, who far from being able to invest the place they intended to besiege, were too weak even to establish themselves upon the head of the roadstead, and prevent an irruption from the town, or an attack from the direction of Bakshiserai upon the right of their position. To guard this vital point, only a strong piquet was employed, and a battery of two guns of position, called the “Sandbag battery,” constructed to strengthen it, had soon to be disarmed, as it was found impracticable to support the guns by infantry. The flank, in short, was left undefended, because the whole of the British army was required to undertake the siege, and because Bosquet’s corps had entrenched themselves on an inaccessible position on the ridge, where no enemy could attack them, and where they could neither give efficient support to the defences of Balaklava, nor be of any immediate use should an onslaught be made on the unguarded spurs of Inkerman. In other words, we suffered from the effects of a divided command.^[245]

We left the Guards Brigade, on the 26th of September, near Balaklava, at the end of the flank march. For the first few days there was little done. “Troops passive and grape-gorging, with the exception of strong fatigue parties engaged in the slow and laborious office of landing the siege guns from the transports, which now cram the harbour of Balaklava.”^[246] On the 2nd of October, the First Division marched to the front, and about this time the British army was thus bivouacked before Sevastopol. The Second Division on the right, with the First in support, nearly a mile in rear; next came the Light Division, separated from them by the Careenage Ravine. These three divisions manned the British Right Attack. The Fourth and Third Divisions were posted south-west of Cathcart’s Hill, and continued the line to the west, in rear of the Left Attack, to the ravine, on the other side of which lay the French siege corps, near Mount Rodolph. The work of bringing up the battering train continued without interruption, and some heavy guns from the ships were drawn to the batteries by sailors, who, forming a brigade under command of Captains Lushington and Peel, took part in the operations which were soon to commence.

It was fortunate that tents were at last issued, on the 5th of October; for the men, having been constantly bivouacked since the disembarkation at Old Fort, nearly three weeks before, were again attacked by sickness. Cholera reappeared on the day after the troops stood on the upland plain before Sevastopol, and an Officer of the Coldstream, Captain Jolliffe, died of it on the 4th. It seems that the delay in providing shelter, even of an indifferent nature, was due to the want of transport, which still failed us; nothing apparently could induce our Government to give the army this indispensable requirement. The boon of again having a tent to cover them in the chilly autumn nights of the Crimea, was keenly appreciated by Officers and men; but comfort is a relative term, and, judged from the ordinary standpoint, the slight shelter which was supplied, was inadequate and insufficient.

On the 4th, Captain MacKinnon and a small detachment of convalescents, who had been left behind at Varna, reached the Battalion.

The constant labour which the Russians devoted to the improvement of their fortifications became apparent to regimental Officers, as they anxiously scanned the enemy’s works during their leisure time.