CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
HONOUR FOR THE BRAVE.
Balaclava was saved, and the historical battle, which had, seen twomemorable cavalry charges, ended with the return of the Light Brigade.But the redoubts on the Causeway heights still remained in the enemy'shands, and Liprandi at once set about strengthening them, whilebattalions of grey-coated infantry bivouacked, there, ready for instantattack or defence. The Allies therefore found themselves confronted bya series of defences of formidable character, and barring their inlet toSebastopol, while within the town was an army greater in number thantheir own, and from whom a sortie in force might be expected at anymoment, thus pinching them between two bodies of troops, both withineasy striking distance. And of no less importance to the invaders wasthe fact that winter was at hand, to be spent by them--and particularlyby the British, who were to suffer all the torments of starvation andexposure, and amongst whom disease was destined to find many victims--inone long struggle with privation and misery.
But to return to Phil and his friend. Almost falling from their saddleswith fatigue, they rode slowly towards the Chersonese heights when oncethey were out of range of the Russian guns. By a miracle neither hadbeen hurt during the retreat, but already Phil felt the effects of theblow across his shoulder. His arm was stiff and almost powerless, whilethe sabre with which he had been struck had cut through his clothing andinflicted a nasty slash which had bled freely. However the blood hadlong since congealed, and a plentiful supply of strapping later on inthe day did all that was necessary.
At the mouth of the valley an officer dressed in the same uniform, asthe man Phil carried in his arms and accompanied by two troopers rode upto him.
"You can hand over our comrade to these men," he said. "Now, corporal,what is your name and corps. By your tunics you should be Guardsmen;but how on earth you came to be with us in that glorious charge is morethan I can understand."
"We were taken prisoners at the Alma, sir," Phil answered, "and wereescaping and hoping to ride into the British lines upon two ponies whichwe captured, when the battle commenced. We both belong to the GrenadierGuards."
The officer stared at Phil.
"Corporal Western by any chance?" he asked, with a lift of his eyebrows.
"Yes, sir," that is my name, "and this is the friend who was capturedwith me."
To the absolute astonishment of the two young soldiers the officer shookeach in turn eagerly by the hand.
"Ah, my lads!" he said gaily, "we have heard of you already, and yourfriends, I guarantee, will give you a lively welcome. Let me tell youthat the affair of the flag has gone through the allied camp.Lieutenant McNeil wrote a letter with all the particulars, and had itpassed through to as by the courtesy of the Russian general I expectthat there will be something waiting for you, and you thoroughly deserveit. As for this other matter, I shall take it in hand. You are agallant fellow, Corporal Western, and saved that man's liberty if nothis life. Now I must be off, but some day I shall hope to hear allabout the escape."
"Can you tell us where the Guards are?" asked Phil, after having thankedthe officer.
"Over there, Corporal;" and he pointed to a force of men returning alongthe Chersonese heights. "The First Division marched out early in themorning, and by cutting across here you will reach camp almost as soonas they do."
The officer rode off, and Phil and his friend turned their tired animalsto the heights and rode for the Guards' camp in silence, their thoughtstoo much occupied by what they had heard to allow of speech. Sundrydeep chuckles, however, told that Tony at least was immensely pleased atsomething that had occurred.
Half an hour later, looking more like beggars than Guardsmen, they rodeinto the camp.
"Let's ride straight up to our own mess and get something to eat,"suggested Tony. "I am fairly empty, and longing for some grub."
But the sight of two tattered Guardsmen riding through their lines wastoo much for their comrades.
"Why, who are they?" they shouted, rushing forward to meet them. Then,recognising them, a man in Phil's company cried at the top of his voice,"Hi, come along, mates! Blow'd if Corporal Western and his pal ain'tcome back to us. Where do yer come from, Corporal? And what's happenedto yer both since yer was taken?"
Men rushed forward and plied them with questions, and then, becomingenthusiastic, they lifted the two young fellows from their saddles andcarried them shoulder-high through the camp.
It was a hearty greeting, for the men were anxious to do full honour totheir two comrades who had gained distinction at the Alma. Very soonthe babel had roused the officers, and before Phil and his friends couldwell collect their scattered senses, they were standing stiffly in frontof the colonel and his adjutant, war-worn, weary and bedraggled, but forall that holding their heads erect, and quivering with excitement.
"What's this? What is all this noise about? Who are these two men?"the former asked abruptly, gazing at them searchingly and failing torecognise them.
"They are the corporal and man who helped to rescue Lieutenant McNeil'scolours, sir," the adjutant replied, looking at them proudly. "Theybelong to the regiment."
"Ah!" and the colonel's face beamed. "Two of our brave fellows! Yes, Irecognise them now. My lads," he continued earnestly, "many a brave actwas done by our men at the Alma, but of all yours was the mostconspicuous. We are proud to own you. You, Corporal, are promoted tofull sergeant, and you," addressing Tony, "to full corporal."
Flushing with pleasure, Phil and his friend thanked the colonel andretired to their comrades, who had prepared a sumptuous feast for them.
"Here yer are, Corporal!" said one enthusiastic fellow, addressing Tony,and emphasising the corporal, "take a bite at this;" and he offered hima helping of a wonderful pie.
Tony blushed, and looked upon the point of exploding, for he was unusedto his new title. But he took the helping and quickly caused it todisappear.
"Look here, mates," he said, after a long pause, "I'm promoted corporal,and yer can call me that as much as yer like to-day, but after that it'soff. Remember that;" and he glowered round at them. "This here pal ofmine," he continued, pointing to Phil, "is a full sergeant, but thatain't all--he's a gent, and this very day he's done what'll bring himthe gold lace of an officer. I tell yer all he saved a chap right upthere by the Russian guns, when the Light Brigade charged, and broughthim safely out. That's what he did, and mind what I say, to-morrow ornext day will see him an officer. Then I chucks the stripe and takes onas his servant."
The honest fellow's face shone with pleasure, while his comrades lookedon in astonishment. Phil reached over and grasped his gallant oldfriend by the hand.
"Tony," he said with a gulp, "you're talking bosh. Of course I sha'n'tbe an officer; besides, you helped to bring that wounded man out aswell. But if ever I do get a commission I'd have you as my servant andtrue friend sooner than anyone."
The men cheered eagerly.
"Hallo!" said one of them, recovering from his momentary excitement,"what's this here about bringing a pal out? Yer talk about the LightBrigade. Spin us the yarn, mates, and don't forget to tell us how youwas taken, and how you gave them Russians the slip."
Late that night, when all turned in, Phil and his friend were the heroesof the camp, and Tony, whose admiration for his friend had increased, ifpossible, during the past few trying days, blurted out to the man lyingby his side that Phil would make as fine an officer as ever wore queen'suniform, and that if anyone dared to gainsay this he would smash him topieces. A loud snore was his only answer; but, relieved to some extentby this outburst, the noble-hearted fellow fell peacefully asleep.
When the orders for the army were published two days later, there wasone portion which particularly attracted the attention of the Brigade ofGuards.
_Corporal Western_, the paragraph ran, _is promoted to sergeant for gallantry at the Alma in helping to save a colour_.
Then it continued:
_Sergeant Western, who
was captured at the Alma, escaped from the enemy, and, taking part with his comrade in the memorable charge of the Light Brigade, rescued and brought out a wounded trooper. For this act of bravery he has been appointed an ensign in the 30th Foot_.
The paragraph ended:
_Lieutenant Western's comrade, who was promoted to corporal, resigns that rank_.
In a state of huge excitement Tony managed to secure a copy of theorder, and rushing up to Phil, presented it with an elaborate salute anda face which worked with emotion.
"Congratulations, sir," he said hoarsely. "You're ensign in the 30thFoot."
Phil hastily glanced at the order, and for the moment felt dizzy, forhere, long before he could have expected it, was a commission.
Clutching Tony by the hand, he shook it warmly, while tears rose to hiseyes.
"Thanks, my dear old friend!" he murmured, with a catch in his voice."At length I have obtained what I wanted. But it will make nodifference to us. Promise me that, Tony. We have been comrades solong, let us continue so, and if you still wish to be my servant, as youhave often declared, why, come, by all means; I shall be more than gladto have you."
"Spoken like a true 'un, mate," growled Tony, sniffing suspiciously, andglaring round as much as to say that if anyone were even to suggest thatemotion had got the better of him, he would do unutterable things.
"Beg pardon, sir, Colonel's compliments, and will you go over and seehim now," said a stalwart orderly, approaching at this moment andsaluting with such smartness that Phil nearly jumped out of his skin.
It was a moment of intense pleasure to all the fine fellows standinground. Here was a comrade who by his own bravery had obtained acommission from the ranks. They were intent on doing full honour tohim, and though the strange anomaly of seeing an old friend, bearingsergeant's stripes, saluted as an officer caused many to indulge in asecret grin, yet it was his right now, and they were determined uponseeing he had it.
Utterly bewildered, Phil made his way to the colonel's quarters, wherehe received more congratulations.
"There now, we won't worry you any more," said the colonel kindly. "Theadjutant will tell you what to do in the way of uniform, and, Western,my lad, remember this, the Grenadier Guards will always welcome a visitfrom you."
At this moment the adjutant took Phil into his tent.
"Of course you must get some kind of uniform," he said. "I dare saythere will be no difficulty in obtaining the kit of one of the officersof the 30th killed at the Alma. I will send over and enquire.Meanwhile you can do as you like: mess with us, or go back to your oldcomrades for the night."
Phil looked at his tattered and mud-stained garments.
"I think I'd rather do that," he said. "Once I have the proper kit Ishall feel more like an officer. At present I can scarcely believe it."
Accordingly he returned to his messmates, who did full honour to himthat night. An extra tot of rum had been secured, pipes were set going,and a pleasant evening was passed with songs round a blazing camp-fire.
The next day he was fortunate enough to obtain a complete kit of anofficer of the 30th, and, buckling on his sword, strode over to theircamp, where he was expected. His new comrades gave him a cordialwelcome, and recognising that he was a gentleman, and, moreover, onewhose pluck had already been tried, they made the most of him.
From that day Phil was kept remarkably busy. He had his share ofoutpost duty to do, and when not engaged in that he was in the trenchesunder continual fire, for the batteries on either side thundered all daylong. Already the French had recovered from the explosion at MountRudolph, and, increasing their guns, were now ready to rejoin theirallies in another attempt to reduce the fortress. Once the redoubtswere destroyed, and the enemy's cannon put out of action, there would bea general combined assault. November the 5th was settled upon as thedate for the bombardment.
"How it will succeed I scarcely like to guess," remarked Phil to Tonyone afternoon as they trudged back to the camp after a long spell ofduty in the trenches. "On the last occasion the fire we poured uponSebastopol was simply terrific, and one would have thought that not aliving being could have survived. And yet, though some of the Russianguns were silenced, the majority hammered away at us in return, and didno little damage. Look at the French battery. Mount Rudolph, as ourallies called it, was simply blown to pieces."
"Yes, sir, it was that," Tony agreed. "And it was just that fact thatprevented our capturing this place we're sitting down in front of. Thatnight we should have assaulted, but the explosion took the heart out ofthe Froggies, and when next morning came, and they were feeling a littlemore like themselves, why, the fortifications which our guns had knockedto pieces had been rebuilt. They're hard-working chaps over there, andplucky too; but this time it's going to be a case of `all up' with them.You'll see our guns smash them to pieces. Why, it was bad enough whenwe were prisoners in there, so what will it be how when the Allies haveany number of guns in addition. Depend upon it, mate, we'll do no endof damage with shot and shell, and then we'll assault and capture theplace."
"I wish I thought so, Tony," Phil answered doubtfully. "I cannot forgetthat the Russians are at least two to our one, which is just theopposite of what it should be, for a force assaulting a fortified placeshould always be of greater proportions than that defending. Then lookat our trenches and the distance which intervenes between them and theRussian earthworks. Long before we can race across, it seems to me thatthe guns, which will be trained to sweep the open, will blow us topieces. Still, we'll have a good try if the orders come for an attack.But I shall be happier about our success if we can sap still closer,until little more than two hundred yards separate us from the Russians."
Now the fear that the fortress might be taken at the next attempt hadnot failed to rouse the Russians. They recognised the necessity ofdiverting the attention of the Allies, and, moreover, receiving onNovember 4th large reinforcements from Odessa, they determined to marchagainst the positions held by French and English, and if possibleannihilate them, or at least drive them still farther south towardsBalaclava, and so render the causeway leading from Sebastopol over theTchernaya river less open to attack. By means of this causeway theyreplenished their garrison, which was daily diminished by the severelosses it suffered. This time the wily enemy chose a different fieldfor their operations. At dawn on the 5th a huge force left the fortressand formed up on the Inkermann heights, beyond the Tchernaya. Theseheights, filled with caves, littered by massive boulders, and capped bygrey battlemented walls, formed a background, bounded on the west by theCareenage ravine leading almost south, and on the north by the greatharbour. Directly in front of the heights, and separated by a widestretch of valley, was a horseshoe-shaped crest, behind which lay theSecond Division. On its extreme right was the sandbag battery, withoutguns, and composed merely of a bank of earth, while between it and theRussian position was a conical hill, known as Shell Hill, which was verysoon to be manned by some 100 Russian guns.
Combining with another force, the total numbers reaching nearly 40,000,the enemy advanced against our position, hoping to capture it, while theremainder of the field-army threatened the French from the Causewayheights and made a feint of attacking. The huge garrison within thefortress, too, were to take a part, for their orders were to firesteadily at the trenches, and if much confusion was noticed, to make asortie and capture them. Thus it will be seen that nothing short of acomplete and overwhelming defeat of the Allies was aimed at. Had it notfailed, England's reputation would have gone for ever, but November 5thwas destined to be a glorious day. Scarcely 4000 were to keep at bayand cause awful losses to an enemy vastly outnumbering them, and that4000 was composed of British infantry; alone, almost unaided, they wereto beat back the enemy, and to their dogged pluck, their fierce lust forbattle and disregard of death, and the fortunate assistance of a thickfog which obscured them and hid from the Russians the thinness of theirranks, they were to owe this glorious victory. There
was no order, noscheme of defence. It was impossible in the circumstances. It wasessentially a soldiers' battle. Broken into knots and groups ofanything from 200 to 20, our gallant fellows fought on, at first with afurious valour, white-hot in its intensity, and later, when almostdropping with fatigue, with a grim, undaunted firmness of purpose whichstamped them as men--true men--of an unconquerable bull-dog breed.
Phil and Tony bore no small share in the battle, for, on the veryevening before, it fell to the former's lot to be on outpost duty.
"Take your men well up the valley and post them at wide intervals," saidthe colonel before he started. "There is no saying when we may beattacked by the enemy, and, to tell the truth, I am uneasy. TheRussians have tried to take Balaclava and failed; but they captured theCauseway heights, and from there they are constantly menacing theFrench. Supposing they were to take it into their heads to advance fromInkermann against this ridge here, there is only the Second Division tobar their progress, and what could we do against a horde when we barelynumber 4000? No, I tell you, Western, I am troubled and uneasy, andthat is why I am so particular as to my orders. Post your men at wideintervals, and before leaving them settle upon some rallying-spot. Iwould suggest the barrier at the neck of the valley. In any case, ifyou notice any movement in the enemy's camp, send me word and fall backslowly. The longer the delay the better."
"Very well, sir. I understand perfectly," Phil answered, and, raisinghis sword in salute, he turned and strode away to his tent.
"Bring along a rifle for me, Tony," he said. "We may have trouble thisevening, and if we do I'd rather return to my old friend. I know itwell, and feel better able, to fight with a bayonet in front of me."
"Right, sir!" was the cheerful answer. "Glad to hear that you wish toreturn to it. It's won England's battles, I reckon, and, compared to asword, why, it's--it's worth a hundred of 'em. Look at yours. Aregular toothpick to go out and fight with!"
With a disdainful toss of his head Tony picked up Phil's latest weaponand drew it from the scabbard. Then, wiping its blade upon the tail ofhis tunic, he thrust it back and set about getting other matters ready.A handful of dry chips enclosed in a sack were placed in the middle of asmall collection of sauce-pans and cups. Over these a couple ofblankets and a small sheet of oiled canvas were laid and then rolledtightly. That done, the faithful fellow went across, to another tent,and returned with an extra rifle and bayonet. A large ammunition-pouchaccompanied it, and in addition Tony provided his master with ahaversack, into which a piece of bread and some half-cooked pork werethrust, so that, if by chance he were separated from his men and thebivouac, he would yet have something with which to keep away the pangsof hunger.
An hour later twenty-five men of the 30th foot fell in, their blanketsover their shoulders, and canteens slung from their belts. Then Philemerged from his tent, looking smart and soldier-like in his newuniform. A hasty inspection having satisfied him that each man wasprovided with ample ammunition, and prepared for a night's outpost duty,he gave the order to march, and, slinging his rifle across his shoulderwith a freedom and ease which told his men that he was well used to it,and had lately been one of themselves, he strode down the hill, and,crossing a wall of stone known as the "barrier", which practically shutthe mouth of the valley, he led his small command straight on towardsthe Russian camp.
"Halt!" he cried as soon as he had reached a spot much broken byboulders and overgrown by brushwood. "Now, my men, you will go on dutyevery two hours, one half relieving the other at the end of that time.You will post yourselves in a wide circle, some twenty paces apart fromone another, and stretching well across the valley. If anyone hears anoise, he will inform those on his right and left and then come and letme know. I may tell you that trouble is expected. If it comes, stickto your positions to the last, and then fall back upon the barrier.That will be our rallying-place. Now, let the rear rank fall out andchoose a good site on which to bivouac I will take the front rank on andpost the sentries."
Leaving the others to select some comfortable spot, Phil strode on withthe front rank of his command, and only halted them when the brushwoodshowed signs of becoming too scanty to act as cover. Then he took eachman individually, and, repeating his orders to him, placed him in theposition he was to occupy.
That done to his satisfaction, he returned to the camp, to find thatTony had spread the blankets beneath an overhanging rock, and wasalready engaged preparing supper.
But Phil had other matters than his own comfort to think about.
"I am sure the colonel expects an attack," he murmured, as he sat upon aboulder and gazed at the flames. "Something is about to happen. I havebeen put in the responsible position of commander of the outposts. If Ifail in my duty the result might be terrible to the Allies, for if onlythe Russians could reach the camp of the Second Division withoutobservation, nothing could stop them from driving the remaining troopsfrom their camps and trenches down to Balaclava. Well, at any rate I amwarned, and to make sure that my sentries are alert I will go roundevery hour."
Accordingly, Phil spent a restless and watchful night, constantlypassing from man to man and listening for movements of the enemy. Butnothing seemed to disturb the silence save the moaning of the wind andthe splash of rain as it beat upon the boulders.
Towards dawn, however, he fancied he heard sounds from the heights ofInkermann, and, posting himself amongst his men, he waited anxiously,vainly endeavouring to pierce the thick, white mist which had replacedthe rain, and now filled the valley from end to end.
Tramp, tramp, tramp! What was that? The sound rolled dull and muffledalong the valley. Scarcely had Phil time to ask the question when abattery of Russian guns, placed on an elevation in front, fired aperfect salvo, the shells shrieking overhead, and bunting near the campof the Second Division; while at the same moment columns of grey-coatedinfantry loomed up in front and to either side, marching rapidly towardshim.
Hastily lifting his rifle, Phil sighted for the central one and pulledthe trigger. There was a flash, a sharp report, and the rattle of otherrifles answering the Russian fire, and telling those in the English campthat the enemy was upon them, and that the battle of Inkermann hadcommenced.
A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War Page 16
