"Wake up, Jack, there is a row down near Balaklava. The Russians are coming on in force. You're off duty, are you not? So am I. We only came out of the trenches half an hour ago. Hurry on your things and come along."
Jack was only a minute or two getting into his clothes, the other midshipmen off duty also hurrying up. Tom Hammond brought in four cups of hot coffee, which they drank hastily, and then munching their hard biscuits as they went, the party of four hurried off.
On reaching the edge of the plateau the whole scene was visible. On four knolls in the plain, redoubts had been erected, and these were garrisoned by the Turks. Some two miles out ran the little river called the Tchernaya, which runs through the valley of Inkerman into the head of the harbor of Sebastopol, and upon this a body of Russian troops had been for some time encamped. Large bodies of the enemy were known to be gathered on the Mackenzie heights, a range of hills which bounded the plain upon the opposite side. These had been strongly reinforced, and at daybreak the Russian army, having gathered at the Tchernaya, advanced upon the Turkish redoubts. The scene when the boys reached the edge of the plateau was a stirring one. Great bodies of infantry were marching across the undulating plain. Strong regiments of cavalry swept hither and thither, and two batteries of light guns had already opened on the redoubts. Lines of British infantry could be seen drawn up at the foot of the slopes from Balaklava to the Marine Heights, where the marines were getting the guns in a position to command the plain. Solid bodies of British cavalry were drawn up near the mouth of the valley. The drums and bugles were sounding all over the plateau behind the group, and the troops were already forming up, and staff-officers were dashing about with orders.
"There goes my regimental call," Harry said. "I must go back again, Jack."
"I shall push on," Jack said. "Come along, you fellows, we're too far off to see much of it here. Let us get down as near Balaklava as we can."
So saying, the midshipmen set off at a run. For a few minutes the guns of No. 1 redoubt, the farthest out of all, replied to the Russian fire, and then the Turks, menaced by overwhelming forces, and beyond the possibility of any assistance, left their guns and bolted across the plain towards the second redoubt. Few of them, however, reached it, for the Russian cavalry swooped down on them and nearly all were sabred as they ran. As soon as the Russians obtained possession of the redoubt they turned its guns upon the British, and the 93d Highlanders who were drawn up in front of the entrance to the Balaklava valley, were forced to fall back. Our cavalry, which were formed up in a slight dip of the ground, were invisible to the enemy. As the Russians advanced, the Turks in the second redoubt fled towards the third, but the Russian cavalry were too quick for them, and but few escaped. The guns were turned by the Russians upon the third redoubt, and, untaught by the fate of their comrades that it was safer to stand than to run, the Turks here also bolted, and ran for the town. Again did the Russian cavalry sweep down. The naval guns from the Marine Heights, the French and Turkish batteries on the road up to the camp in vain spoke out, and sent their shot and shell far out on the plain. The distance was too great, and many of the Turks were cut down, the rest reaching our lines where they formed up behind the 93d.
By this time the whole sweep from the Sebastopol plateau to Balaklava was alive with spectators. The British infantry were drawn up ready to defend their position or to march down and take part in a general battle. Heavy columns of the French were marching from their distant camps, while groups of generals and mounted officers watched the progress of the fight. Lord Raglan and General Canrobert, who now commanded the French (Marshal St. Arnaud having gone on board ship a day or two after the battle of the Alma, where he died two days later), had taken up their position on some rising ground above Kadikoi, a village which lay near the mouth of the Balaklava valley.
As the Russian cavalry on the left of their advance crowned the slope they saw the Highlanders drawn up in line across the plain. They halted till joined by numbers of other squadrons. Then they dashed at the Highlanders. As they came sweeping in magnificent array the Turks fired a volley and bolted. The Highlanders stood firm and immovable. When the Russians came within 600 yards, a long flash of fire ran along the British front. The distance, however, was too great, and the Russians came steadily on, although the shot from the British batteries were plunging thick among them.
When within 250 yards of the Highlanders another flash of fire swept out along the line, and this time so great was the effect that the Russian squadrons recoiled, and in another minute were galloping back towards their main body, while a cheer ran along the heights from the marine battery to Sebastopol.
Lord Raglan now sent orders to Lord Lucan to advance, and the Heavy Brigade moved forward just as a large body of Russian cavalry came over the brow in front of them. The British trumpets rang out the charge, and the Scots Greys and Inniskillings, who formed the first line of the Heavy Brigade, dashed at the enemy. Gathering speed as they went, these two splendid regiments rode at the heavy masses of Russian cavalry. Faster and faster grew their speed till, with a mighty shout, they flung themselves upon the foe. For a moment all seemed wild confusion to the spectators. Redcoats and black were inextricably mixed together, and over them like a play of rapid lightning was the flash of steel as the swords rose and fell. Presently the Redcoats were seen emerging from the rear, having cut their way through the surging mass. The flanks of the Russian column, however, were lapping them in, and it seemed that the little body would be annihilated, when the 4th and 5th Dragoon Guards, forming the second line of the Heavy Brigade, burst upon them like a torrent. Smitten, as if by a thunderbolt, the Russian cavalry, men and horses, rolled over before the stroke, and the column, shattered and broken into fragments, galloped away to the shelter of their infantry, while a roar of triumph arose from long lines of the allies.
By this time the French infantry had arrived upon the ground, and Balaklava was safe. Then came the episode by which the battle of Balaklava is best known, the famous charge of the Six Hundred. An order was sent from Lord Raglan to Lord Lucan to advance the light cavalry farther. Captain Nolan, who bore the order, was himself a light cavalry officer of great enterprise and distinction, and who had an unlimited faith in the powers of British light cavalry. Excited probably by the sight of the glorious feat achieved by the "heavies," and burning to see it emulated by his comrades of the light regiments, he so gave the order to Lord Lucan that the latter conceived it to be his duty to charge. The order was simply to advance, but when Lord Lucan asked him, "How far are we to advance?" he replied, pointing to the Russians, "There are the enemy and there are the guns."
Lord Lucan, conceiving that his orders were absolute, ordered Lord Cardigan to advance upon the guns. Lord Cardigan saw at once the desperate nature of the enterprise. The guns were a mile and a half distant, backed by the whole Russian army. The line to be ridden over was swept not only by the fire of the guns he was about to charge, but by those of other batteries on the flank. No support was possible, for the heavy cavalry were at this time far away, executing a movement which had been ordered. Lastly, even if successful, the charge could be attended with no great results, as it would be impossible either to hold or carry away the guns.
The enterprise was indeed a desperate one. Lord Cardigan gave the order, and the Light Brigade, numbering in all but the strength of a single regiment, set out at a trot towards the distant Russians. As they approached they quickened their speed, and the spectators saw with feelings of mixed horror and admiration, the enterprise on which they had embarked. When at the distance of 1200 yards from the Russians, thirty pieces of artillery opened fire upon them. Men and horses rolled over before the iron shower, but the squadrons closed up their gaps and rode straight forward, with sabres flashing in the sun, leaving the plain behind them dotted with killed and wounded.
Again, as they neared the battery, the iron shower swept through their ranks; then with a mighty shout they dashed upon the guns. Brief was the struggle here. The Russian gunners were cut down, and gathering together, boot to boot, the British cavalry rode straight at a Russian line of infantry which formed up 100 yards behind the guns, poured a volley into them. There was no pause, but straight, and with the shock of an avalanche, they hurled themselves at the Russians. There was a yell, a crash, the clash of sabre on bayonet, the shout of the victor, the scream of the dying, and the British horsemen burst through the Russian line. Their work was done. They were conquerors, but alone in an army of enemies. Turning now, they swept back again through the guns on their homeward way. The flank batteries belched their fire upon them, the rattle of musketry sounded round them, a regiment of cavalry was hurled upon their flanks, but these, weak as they were, they dashed aside, and wounded and bleeding, the remnant of the gallant band rode on until met by the Heavy Brigade, advancing to assist them and cover their retreat.
Our infantry now made a forward movement. The Russians fell back, and at half-past eleven the battle of Balaklava was over. While the British charge was going on, 200 of the French cavalry made a brilliant charge on the left and carried a battery, but had to retreat with a loss of two captains, and fifty men killed and wounded. Our loss in all was thirteen officers killed or taken, and twenty-seven officers wounded, 162 men killed or taken, and 224 men wounded. There were 394 horses killed or missing, and 126 horses wounded. The Russians carried off some ten guns from the redoubts which they captured in the morning.
Jack and his friends returned at the conclusion of the fight to camp, where, as they had rather expected, they met with a severe reprimand for their absence, being told that upon such an occasion, whether off duty or not, their duty was to remain in camp. Captain Peel indeed, was nearly sending them back to their ships again. But after a very severe reprimand he allowed them to remain. The boys went back to their tent somewhat crestfallen, but agreed that such a sight as they had witnessed was worth anything.
October ended, and the batteries of besieged and besiegers continued to play, the Russians causing much annoyance by the heavy shell which they threw up from their mortars; the battery worked by the blue-jackets suffering particularly. The Russians had now 240 guns in their new works, a number far superior to those of the allies. As yet no damage whatever had been inflicted on the enemy's works. Each day their faces were pitted with shot, each night the Russians repaired the damages. In the mean time the Russians had received very large reinforcements. Two of the Imperial Grand Dukes had also arrived, and they were preparing for an attempt to sweep the allies into the sea. The weather had set in wet; the soldiers were weakened by their incessant work in the trenches, by wet and exposure, and the strength of many of the regiments was greatly reduced by disease. All hopes of capturing the fortress and returning to Constantinople to winter were now at an end, and the roads having become mere quagmires, the supplies of food and of fuel were growing scanty. On the 3d, Jack had been sent down to Balaklava with a despatch from Captain Peel to Admiral Lyons. Mr. Hethcote lent him his pony, and having delivered his message in the guard-ship in the harbor, whence it would be taken out to the "Agamemnon," Jack went on board some of the transports, and discharged a number of commissions with which he had been intrusted by his comrades. So numerous were they that he was obliged to get a couple of sacks which were completely filled with hams, bottled stout, fresh bread, potted meats, brandy, matches, and tobacco. He had, too, succeeded in purchasing several waterproof sheets and tarpaulins, and these being fastened on the top of the sacks, were placed upon the pony's back, and, taking his bridle, Jack started through the mud for his long tramp back to camp, for it was quite out of the question that the pony could carry him in addition to these burdens. Not a little laughter was excited on his arrival, and there was quite a rush of the various officers to procure their share of Jack's purchases, for no officer had been down to Balaklava for a fortnight, and the stores of luxuries were completely exhausted.
Next night Jack and his messmates gave a grand entertainment. Harry and two other lieutenants of the 33d—for the battle of the Alma had made so many death vacancies in the regiment that he had obtained his promotion—were there, and two young officers of the 30th who were cousins of one of Jack's tentmates. It certainly was a close pack. Tom Hammond had obtained some planks, and, laying these on the flour barrel, had contrived a sort of circular table, round which the parties sat with their backs to the wall, on boxes, empty preserved potato tins, rum kegs, and portmanteaus. There was no room for Tom to enter the tent, so the full dishes were handed in through the entrance, and the empty ones passed out. Each guest of course brought his own plate, knife, fork, spoon, and drinking tin. As for a change of plates, no one dreamed of such a thing.
Outside, the night set in wet and gloomy, but four tallow candles stuck in bottles threw a grand illumination.
The first course was pea-soup. It smelt good, but it had a suspicious appearance, globules of grease floated upon its surface. All fell to with a will, but with the first spoonful there was a general explosion.
"What on earth is this, Jack?" Harry exclaimed.
"What the deuce is it?" another said. "It is filthy!"
While one of the young officers of the 30th exclaimed to his cousin, "Confound it, Ned! you haven't brought us here to poison us, have you?"
This explosion was followed by a simultaneous shout for Tom by his six angry masters.
The top-man put his head in at the slit.
"What the deuce have you been doing to this soup?" roared the indignant chorus.
"Soup, your honors? Nothing."
"Nothing! Don't tell me, you ruffian!" exclaimed Allison, the oldest of the midshipmen. "It's poison! What have you been doing to it?"
"Well, your honor, the only way I can account for it is that a while ago I took off the lid to see if it was boiling nicely, when a bit of tallow candle I had in my fingers slipped and fell into it. I couldn't get it out, though I scalded my fingers in trying, and it just melted away in no time. I skimmed the fat off the top, your honors, and didn't think it would make no matter."
The shout of laughter which greeted the explanation was loud and general.
"You're a scoundrel, Tom!" Allison said, "and I shall have to ask Mr. Hethcote to disrate you, and get some one here who is not a born idiot. Here, take this horrible mess away! Pour the contents of your plates back into the pot, boys, and put the plates together. You must wash them, Tom, or the tallow will taste in everything we have."
The things were passed out of the tent, and after five minutes the plates were returned, and with them a great tin piled up with Irish stew, the contents of five tins. A cheer rose as the smell of the food greeted their nostrils.
"Hurrah! This is something like! I don't think there's any mistake this time."
Nor was there. The stew was unanimously voted to be perfect, and Tom was again called to the tent-door, and solemnly forgiven.
Then came fried rashers of ham, eaten with hard biscuit. Then came the great triumph of the banquet—a great plum-pudding, which had been sent out from England in a tin, ready cooked, and which had only required an hour's boiling to warm it through.
In order to eat this in what the midshipmen called proper style, a tin pannikin half filled with brandy was held over the candles, and the brandy being then ignited, was poured over the pudding. Not a scrap of this was left when the party had finished, and the table being cleared, pipes were brought out and lighted; the drinking-cups refilled with grog, and the party set-to to enjoy a long evening.
"It is a beastly night," the one sitting next to the door said, peering out into the darkness. "It is a fine rain, or rather a Scotch mist, so thick I can hardly see the next tent. It will be as much as you fellows will be able to do to find your way back to your camps.
"Now," Allison said, "let us make ourselves comfortable. It is only seven o'clock yet, and you've got three hours before 'lights out.' It's my duty as president of the mess to call upon some one for a song, but as I'm a good fellow I will set the example myself. Upon the present occasion we can't do better than begin with 'The Red, White, and Blue,' and, mind, a good chorus every one. Any one shirking the chorus will have no share of the next round of grog, and any one who does not sing when called upon, or who attempts to make any base explanations or excuses, will have to drink his tin full of salt and water."
Without further delay Allison began his song, one very popular at that time. There was no occasion for him to use his authority as president in the infliction of fines, for every one in turn, when called upon, did his best, and the choruses were heard over the whole of the naval camp.
"Hullo! What's all this noise about?" said a cheery voice presently, as a head was put through the opening of the tent.
The midshipmen all jumped to their feet.
"We are having a jollification, sir," Allison said, "on the things Archer brought up from Balaklava yesterday. Are we making too much noise, sir?"
"Not a bit, lads," the first lieutenant said. "It's cheerful to hear you. It isn't much enjoyment that we get on this bleak plateau. Well, good-night. You mustn't keep it up after 'lights out,' you know."
"That's something like a first lieutenant," Allison said, when Mr. Hethcote had retired. "Most of them look as if they'd swallowed a ramrod, and treat middies as if they were the dust of the earth. I'm quite sure that a man who is genial and nice gets his work done ever so much better than do those stand-off fellows. I see in your camp," he said to the officers, "colonels and majors standing and chatting to the young officers just as pleasantly and freely as a party of gentlemen on shore. Why the captain of a ship should hold himself as if he were a little god, is a thing I have never been able to make out. I'm sure you fellows obey orders on parade none the less promptly and readily because the colonel has been chatting with you in the mess-room half an hour before. But don't let us waste time. Archer, it's your turn for a song."
And so merrily the hours passed away, until it was time to break up and put out the lights. And as the young fellows laughed and sung, while the mist and rain came down pitilessly outside, they little thought what was preparing for the morrow, or dreamed that the churches in Sebastopol were crowded with Russian soldiers praying the saints to give them victory on the morrow, and to aid them to drive the enemies of the Czar into the sea.