A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War

  CHAPTER TEN.

  THE GLORIOUS ALMA.

  The misty grey of early dawn lay over the smooth grassy slopes of theCrimea when Phil and Tony turned over on the following morning andlooked about them. Here and there men were moving about like bigghostly shadows as they trudged down to the banks of the River Bulganakto fill their water-bottles and mess-tins in preparation for the morningmeal. Some were crouching over smoking fires, encouraging them to burnup brightly and give out sufficient heat to cook the food. Close athand others were grooming officers' chargers, and on every side therewas the clatter of an awaking camp, the stamp of restive hoofs, cheerycalls from man to man, and the startling notes of reveille ringing outclearly in the morning air, and warning all that another day hadarrived, and that it was time to throw off sleep and be ready to tryconclusions with the enemy.

  "Lummy, ain't I sleepy just!" yawned Tony, throwing off his blanket andsitting up to rub his eyes with his knuckles.

  "I too could have done with a couple of hours more," answered Philpeevishly. Then, springing to his feet, he shook the heavy dew from hisblanket and looked towards the river, the smooth and sluggish surface ofwhich had just caught the first rays of the rising sun.

  "Who's for a dip?" he cried briskly. "Come along, Tony, boy; we shallnever wake up till we have douched ourselves with water."

  "'Tain't a bad idea, Phil, and I'm with yer," exclaimed his friend,shaking himself like a dog. "There ain't no towels, as I can see, so Isuppose it's a case of dry as best you can."

  "Yes, of course. The sun will be up in another ten minutes, and willserve our purpose well. Come along; we've a clear half-hour beforebreakfast."

  Another five minutes and Phil, accompanied by many comrades, was hastilypulling off his boots and clothing close to the bank of the stream.Then someone waded in and tried the depth, and having found a deep poolthe others dived in, splashing the water in every direction. Thepastime caught on like fire, and very soon a hundred or more wereenjoying a bathe. Officers, too, came down to the river, some to lookon, and others to join the men in the water.

  By eight o'clock the whole of the Allies were under arms and waitinganxiously for orders, the French on the right, while the British tookcare of the left flank, where danger was to be expected. In rear of allwere the arabas and cavalry, besides herds of cattle and sheep. Philand Tony had been relieved of their charge, and were in the ranks withtheir comrades.

  "I ain't sorry to say good-bye to that old cart, araba, or whatever theycall it," exclaimed Tony. "Yer see, we shall get a chance of seeingmost of the fun if there's a fight, whilst if we was in charge of theammunition where should we be? Right away behind, there ain't a doubt,kicking our heels and waiting till some chance cannon-shot come bowlingalong our way and chopped our heads off. Halloo! who's that?"

  This exclamation was caused by the sudden appearance of asmartly-dressed officer, with glittering epaulettes and waving plume,cantering down before the British lines.

  "It's Marshal St Arnaud, him as commands the Froggies," shouted someone.The news spread through the ranks, and at once, lifting their rifles,the troops greeted the Marshal with three hearty British cheers, acompliment which evidently caused him much gratification.

  "We shall move now, Tony," remarked Phil gravely, "so we'll just shakehands, old man. One never knows what may happen. Perhaps it will beunnecessary, but we've a big fight before us, and who can say that weshall both come safely through it?"

  "No one, Phil. No one but Him as sits above," Tony answered earnestly;"but I tell yer we're coming through it, you and me, and you're going todo something for them stripes. I feel it somehow. But here's my hand,old pal. You've been a good 'un to me, and if I go this day, I'll havea better chance than a year or more ago. I shall, and yer know it."

  Tony grasped Phil's hand and wrung it, while tears stood in his eyes.Phil returned the pressure earnestly, and then they leant on theirrifles and waited for the word to advance.

  Between nine and ten it came, and the Allies trudged forward over a widesweeping plain leading to a ridge, beyond which lay the valley of theAlma, the valley--fair though it looked on that grand morning--of theshadow of death. And now guns in front boomed out, answering the shotsof the Russian batteries, and each man grasped his rifle more firmly atthe sound, while a keen, strained look came over his face, as though hehad braced himself for the trial which was coming.

  Trudge, trudge, trudge! On moved the mass of men, looking grand intheir varied uniforms, and all seeming anxious to get more quickly tothat ridge in front and look upon the enemy.

  "Ah! there they are," exclaimed Phil with a sigh of relief as hiscompany topped the rise and came in full view of the Russian position."See, they are right in front of us if we only march in the direction weare taking now, so there will be plenty of work for us, you fellows!Hurrah for the fight!" and in the excitement of the moment, he snatchedhis bearskin from his head, and, tossing it into the air, caught it onhis bayonet with the skill of a juggler. Instantly a wave of cheeringspread along the British lines, and a forest of bearskins and head-gearof every description was thrust aloft on the gleaming bayonets, soon--very soon--to be used in deadly and desperate earnest for anotherpurpose. A minute later the answering cheers of the French came echoingalong the lines, their "Vive l'Empereur!" piercing the morning air witha shrill note, showing that they too were roused to the highest pitch ofenthusiasm.

  "Look, Tony!" exclaimed Phil a few minutes later, having calmed downsufficiently to be able to make a good examination of the Russianposition, "those beggars have chosen a splendid spot on which tomanoeuvre. You can see them massed on the slope of the hill close uponthe other side of the river, and to reach them we must cross the openand plunge through the water. That makes it pretty well impossible forour cavalry to help us by a flank attack. But we'll go for them toothand nail, in the regular old bull-dog way, and if we don't rout them outof their position, well, I'll--I'll never speak to you again."

  "Yer won't, won't yer?" answered Tony, with a curious grin, staring athis friend with no small amount of astonishment. "Young 'un, I neversee yer so wound up afore. I never thought yer was that bloodthirsty.Me and all yer mates took yer for one of them quiet kind of coves whattakes a lot of rousing. But now--blow me--I can see yer monkey's up,and I'll have to keep an eye on yer, else yer'll be trying to fight thewhole of them Russian coves alone." Then, having smiled once more atPhil, the honest fellow's face suddenly assumed a sterner look, his eyesglistened and his cheeks flushed, while he hurriedly fumbled at thefastening of his ammunition-pouch. "Beat 'em, Phil, old boy! in coursewe will. If the Grenadier Guards don't find their way to the top ofthat there hill, and take every one of them big guns yer see, it'll bebecause there ain't none of 'em left to do it. We'll manage it or dieon the way."

  And indeed, to look at the disposition of the Russian troops and gunsmade by General Menschikoff, there was every possibility that beforethey were forced to retire many a gallant British and French soldierwould be laid low upon the grass. In front of the Allies stretched theriver Alma, forming a sharp bend, the apex of which was opposite thedivision between French and English troops, and pointed towards theRussians. In the bend was the village of Bourliouk, soon to be thescene of sharp skirmishing, and on the right a road crossed the riverand ascended the opposite bank, which at that point sloped easilytowards a conical hill known as Telegraph Hill. To the right of thisroad, and exactly facing the French and Turkish troops, there was asteep cliff on the other side of the river. Up this, however, two roadsran, one of which was available for guns.

  In front of the British, grassy slopes descended to gardens andvineyards which stretched to the river-bank, and through them passed abroad post-road from Sebastopol to Eupatoria, crossing the Alma by abridge, and ascending between Telegraph Hill and another height known asKourgani Hill. On either side of this road the banks of the riverascended in easy slopes, and here it was that Menschikoff had disposedhis forces, plantin
g a formidable battery of fourteen guns, of largecalibre, behind an earthwork thrown up on a terrace one hundred yardsfrom the water, while farther to the left was another battery, the twosupported by nine field-batteries of eight guns each--a truly formidablearmament.

  "Heavens! what guns!" Phil heard one of the officers mutter. Then,gripping the colours he bore, the young fellow tossed his head proudlyand added: "By Jove, we'll have the lot before the day is out!"--aresolution which every soldier had also made.

  What it was to cost them only the future could disclose, but those whohad seen war before, who had trained themselves to conduct the movementsof armies, could not but expect a heavy list of casualties; for even anamateur might have seen that the Russian position was one ofextraordinary strength, while the expert able to grasp its salientpoints could tell at a glance that it presented an extremely difficultand anxious problem to the attacker. Even Phil, boy though he was andinexperienced in warfare, could not but be struck by the formidableworks towards which the Allies were advancing.

  "They seem impregnable," he muttered. "Look at the batteries. Theymust have 100 guns at least, and all trained for the slope upon which weare advancing. Then there is the river to cross. It may or may not befordable, but in any case it means a disadvantage to us and an advantageto the Russians. When that is crossed there is the rush uphill in theteeth of those guns, and opposed by the enemy's bayonets. It will behot work, Tony, very hot work, for I suppose we shall be compelled tomake a frontal attack."

  "If that means marching straight to our front, without turning so muchas an inch, then I says yes, I hope we shall," Tony answered with agrowl, assumed only to cover his excitement. "How else shouldEnglishmen attack? Go straight for them is our way of doing business,and I reckon it's the best."

  And this in fact seemed the only way of attacking the Russianssuccessfully. Perhaps a flanking movement to the left might have provedsuccessful, but even then the river must first be forded, no doubt inthe teeth of a murderous fire. But this had not struck the Britishleader as possible, and the whole force marched on steadily, shoulder toshoulder, and with a martial tramp which seemed to shake the ground.

  And upon them as they advanced was fixed the anxious gaze of some 50,000Russians, horse, foot, and gunners, who marvelled at their boldness andseeming unconcern, and waited only for the long red lines of the Britishand the brisk-moving masses of French blue to come a little nearer, whenthey promised themselves that they would sweep them out of existencewith a tempest of shot and shell the like of which had never beenexperienced. Yes, all was ready. Their guns were trained for theground over which British and French must pass; but not for an instantdid it occur to them that French and Turks might think of attacking thecliffs on their left. The narrow road, its steepness, and the proximityof their guns seemed to make such an attempt impossible, and, safe inthe thought, they brought every piece they possessed to bear upon thoseslopes and vineyards across which the British were soon to march.

  "Halt!" The command came hoarsely through the air and was emphasised bythe shrill notes of a bugle.

  "Now, what is going to happen?" asked Phil. "Ah! I see; we are to getinto our proper formation, ready to march down to the river. Then Isuppose we shall deploy till we have ample elbow-room, and afterwardsmake a dash for the Russian position."

  Ten minutes later the British divisions were swinging along over thegreen turf, their centre marching almost directly on the village ofBourliouk, and the whole face to face with Menschikoff's huge army, anddestined to bear the brunt of the fighting.

  The French and Turkish troops took but a small part in the battle.Seeing the difficulty of the two cliff roads ascending the river-bank tothe left of his force, Menschikoff had failed to occupy them, as hasbeen mentioned, and had placed but few troops in the neighbourhood, forthe guns of the allied fleets commanded the cliffs. Taking advantage ofthis, the lithe and active little Frenchmen were soon crowding thenarrow road in their front, and in an incredibly short space of timetheir guns had been hauled to the top of the cliff, and from thereboomed out at the Russian batteries and long lines of massed infantry,doing much execution and threatening them from their flank. Farther tothe right the Turks swarmed up the other road, and having gained thecliffs, took up their position there.

  Meanwhile the red lines of the British, who, it had been arranged,should not be launched at the main army till the French had commencedtheir flank attack, moved down the grassy slope, solemn and grand, andas steadily as a mass of moving rock, the front line composed of theSecond and Light Divisions, the next of the Third and First Divisions,in column formation, while behind them the Fourth Division marched inechelon, with five regiments in rear as reserves.

  Stretching for nearly two miles, with its right close to the village ofBourliouk and its left near that of Tarkhaular, the mass of men advancedslowly and evenly, with a cloud of skirmishers from the rifle battalionsthrown out in front. Soon these became engaged with the Russianskirmishers posted in the vineyards and in Bourliouk, and the sharprat-a-tat of musketry and an occasional hiss above the heads of thegallant men in red showed that the battle of the Alma had commenced. Agrunt, almost a shout, of satisfaction and pent-up excitement, instantlywent down the lines, and the regiments at a sharp order commenced toopen out and deploy, the foremost line, composed of the Second and LightDivisions, stepping forward at a smart pace, which soon became almost adouble, as the men eagerly advanced against the Russians.

  Boom! The big battery had opened fire, and, as if this had been asignal, every gun on the Russian side blazed out and covered the slopeswith smoke, while their shot searched the whole British front, tearingremorselessly through the ranks and crashing into the village houses.

  "This is hot!" shouted Phil in Tony's ear, as they squatted with theircomrades upon the grass, awaiting the order to advance. "I'd rathermarch straight against that battery than sit here and be pounded into ajelly before having a chance of a smack at those beggars."

  "'Tain't nothing," grunted Tony reassuringly, tilting his bearskin backto dash the perspiration from his forehead. "Ah, that was a bad 'un!"he muttered hoarsely as, with an awful screech, a cannon-shot plungedinto the men close at hand, laying five of the poor fellows dead andmaiming two others in its flight.

  But now the first line had reached the river, and, holding their pouchesand rifles above their heads, they plunged in boldly, and were soonmassed on the other side, where they waited, standing waist-deep in thewater, and sheltered by the steep bank from the fire of the batteriesabove. But it was only a momentary halt. Dashing through the river,Sir George Brown put his horse at the bank, and, surmounting it, turnedin his saddle and called upon the brave fellows to follow him, wavinghis sword in a manner that showed all who were out of hearing what hiswishes were. And he had not to call a second time, for, hastily gulpingdown a mouthful of water, the thin red line climbed the bank with ashout, and, falling into their places with as much coolness as though ona parade-ground, advanced shoulder to shoulder up the slopes.

  A glance at them, however, displayed the curious fact that the advancingtroops were in no regular formation. Compelled to deploy and often makewide detours in passing through the vineyards on the other bank and inmarching round the village, regiments had been split up into smallerportions, and in many cases men had lost sight of their comradesaltogether. But still discipline and coolness were second nature tothem. Without orders but of their own initiative they fell in, andforming a double line--the favoured formation for British attack,--theypressed up the hill; dark-coated riflemen and red linesmen intermingled,and were swallowed up in the clouds of eddying smoke.

  Up, up they climbed, steadily and with heroic bravery, and, passingthrough a storm of hurtling iron and lead, at length flung themselvesupon the deep columns of the Russians.

  One moment visible, they were seen surging from side to side,desperately using their bayonets; and next moment, with an appallingroar, the batteries would open once more, and
clouds of white smokewould swallow them up, only their excited cries, and the hoarse,encouraging voices of the officers nobly leading them, showing that theystill survived.

  "It's grand to see them," cried Phil, carried away by the excitement ofthe moment. "When will our turn come? They will be swept away by thosecrowds of Russian soldiers. Look at them, Tony! Now they are at closequarters, and the enemy is giving back. Hurrah, now we have them!" and,springing to his feet, he would have broken from the ranks and rushed tojoin the fighting-line had not Tony clutched him by the arm and draggedhim to the ground, while a hoarse and well-timed "Steady, youngster,you're tiring yourself; keep all your gristle till we come up againstthem," from a veteran sergeant who sat close at hand, smoking calmly,served to quieten him again. But Phil was not the only man there wholonged to be up and doing. Not one but was restless and chafing at thedelay, especially at Phil's last shout, for a turn had taken place inthe tide of the battle which indeed gave the British a far better chanceof victory. Awed by the mass of advancing men, the big Russian battery,which had done such damage in our ranks, suddenly limbered up andretired over the hill--a disgraceful retreat which proved disastrous tothe enemy.

  But though the attacking force had thus gained an important advantage,the masses of the Russians now poured down the slope and threwthemselves upon the gallant British line. Bravely did the latterresist, and with desperate courage strive to continue their advance; butthe enemy opposing them were equally brave and equally stubborn, andmoreover had the advantage of position and numbers. For a few momentsthere was a seething mixture of red and grey coats, glittering bayonets,and darts of flame; and then, broken by sheer weight, the Britishretired upon the ranks of the now advancing second line.

  Side by side Phil and Tony stepped forward with their comrades, andalmost in a dream plunged through the river and climbed the oppositebank. But now the voices of their officers recalled their wanderingsenses, and, falling into their places, the brigade of Guards pushed onin perfect formation, with the Highlanders abreast of them.

  What a scene it was! What excitement and what movement! A double lineof stalwart Guardsmen as well-ordered and as rigidly erect as ifdrilling in the green parks at home; and in line with them brawnyHighlanders, all dripping with water, deafened by the crashingartillery, and yet determined to a man to get to close quarters with theenemy. And retiring upon them, war-worn, bedraggled, and bareheaded,with faces and hands black with the smoke of powder, some limpingheavily, and others even crawling, came the gallant first line, loth toturn their backs upon the foe, and yet compelled to do so byoverwhelming numbers. Had the second line advanced earlier it wouldhave supported them at the critical moment, but owing to the fact thatLord Raglan and his staff had already crossed the river and ridden closeto Telegraph Hill, it received no direct order from him; and when it didadvance, it was on the responsibility of the division commander. Butnow, opening its ranks for the moment to pass through the broken firstline, it marched at a rapid pace, and immediately plunged into thetempest of bullets. Men fell to right and left, biting the dust andstruggling in their agony, while others lay motionless, sometimes withcontorted limbs and faces, and sometimes in peaceful repose as ifasleep, stirring not from the position in which death had found them.Ah! it was war, red, cruel war, and well might that second line havewavered and turned back. But theirs was not that sort of courage.Determined to be beaten by nothing, they kept steadily marching up thehill, and soon disappeared, for volumes of smoke were pouring from thevillage of Bourliouk, which was now in flames, and, mingling with thatfrom the guns, enveloped the combatants in a dense cloud.

  And as the line advanced into the thick of the fight, and while riflefire brought havoc to the ranks, the Russian skirmishers, still clingingto their positions amongst the trees of the river-bank, picked off allthe stragglers, and even turned their volleys and the fire of a fewlight field-guns upon the main body.

  "Keep together, mate. We'll fight 'em side by side," shouted Tony,closing up to Phil. "Got yer rifle loaded? Then keep yer charge tillwe gets to close quarters. It'll come in handy then."

  "Right! I thought of that," Phil shouted back. Then, closing up totheir comrades, they advanced at a rapid pace and flung themselves uponthe lines of grey-coated Russians.

  To this day Phil cannot quite recall what happened. If you press him hewill perhaps tell you that he recollects a young officer falling at hisfeet, while a huge Russian prepared to bayonet him. Next moment the manwas down and Phil was standing over him, while Tony's rifle laid lowanother who was in the act of dashing his friend's head to pieces withthe butt of his weapon.

  On pressed the red line resistlessly and with never a pause, leavingbehind them friend and foe strewn upon the grass, and on, ever in front,went the officers and the colours into the heart of the struggling massof grey. There was no need to call to their men and beg them to follow.The British lion was aroused in desperate earnestness, and with grimand awe-inspiring silence the men rushed on headlong and regardless ofbullet or bayonet. There was a crash, the bang, bang of an occasionalshot, and the clash of steel upon steel, and then the trample ofthousands of feet as the enemy gave way and fled.

  Side by side Phil and Tony had fought their way into the middle of thefamous Vladimir regiment, and as the Russians turned, found themselvesmixed up with brawny Highlanders, who, with the light of battle in theireyes, were pressing resistlessly forward. Suddenly Phil caught sight ofa figure in advance bearing a British colour. It swayed this way andthat, now endeavouring to get closer to the Highlanders, and next momentswept forward as the retreating Russians slowly gave way and drove thebearer before them.

  "The colour! the colour!" he shouted frantically, dashing forward withTony at his heels. Scattering those who barred their path, they madetheir way to the flag, and falling-in on either side, fought grimly tohelp its bearer back to the ranks of the Highlanders.

  "Thanks, my men!" shouted the young officer who supported the flag."Now, help me, and we'll get out of this hole. All together! Rush!"

  With their weapons held well in advance, the three dashed at the enemy,while the Highlanders, seeing the predicament into which the colour hadfallen, with a shout of wrath flung themselves in their direction. Butthough beaten, the Russians had in no way lost courage, and, turningfiercely, they bore the gallant Scotsmen back, while others opposed Philand his comrades.

  "Rally, rally! The colour!" shouted Phil, thrusting right and left withhis bayonet, and turning just in time to discharge his rifle at a manwho was attacking them in rear.

  So fiercely did the little band of three fight that the Russians intheir immediate neighbourhood gave way, and, standing in a circle roundthem, glared at the gallant red-coats who had thus far been too much forthem.

  A glorious picture they presented. At bay, with a host of the enemysurrounding them and glowering at them with fierce hatred, the officerand his two supporters indeed were men of whom Britain might well feelproud. With flushed faces and flashing eyes, which looked into those ofthe enemy with no signs of fear, but with keen glances of stemdetermination, they stood there a mere drop in an ocean of strugglingmen. Smoke-begrimed, dishevelled, and with bearskins tumbled in themud, Phil and Tony clutched their rifles and looked ready and willing tofall upon the hundreds around them. Thoughts of home, danger ofcapture, or death by bayonet or bullet were lost in the deliriousexcitement of the moment. They thought only of the flag for which theyfought, and, hemmed in and panting with exhaustion, they listened to thedeafening din of the battle still raging a few feet from them, and noblydetermined to die sooner than permit the Russians to capture it.

  "We're done, lads," groaned the officer, sinking on his knee."Corporal, take the colour. I'm hit, and can't hold it any longer.Fight on for it!"

  Phil grasped the staff, and, hoisting the flag still higher, lookedround with proud defiance, while Tony, with a grim smile of exultationon his face, stepped nearer to him.

  "Ay, well fight on
for it, sir, never fear," he muttered. "We'll fighttill we're dead."

  Phil nodded.

  "I'll borrow your sword, sir," he said, grasping the weapon as he spoke."A rifle and bayonet are too heavy to use one-handed."

  "Look out, lads! Here come the cavalry!" the officer exclaimed at thismoment; and almost instantly Cossack horses dashed through the Russianinfantry, scattering them and surrounding the colour. There was onelast desperate fight. Phil's sword smashed in two at the first viciouscut, and for a minute he continued the defence by belabouring thehorsemen with the colour-staff. Then that was dashed to the ground, andbefore he was aware of it a lasso-noose had been slipped over hisshoulders, securing his arms to his side, and he was being dragged away.

  The last backward glance as he was hurried away showed him a grand rushby the Highlanders. The grey-coats retreated precipitately, and amidhoarse shouts of exultation the rescued colour was borne back to theBritish lines.