One of the Six Hundred: A Novel
she sat on the saddle before him. Then a madness seemed to sting the
heart of Lucrece! She felt herself to the fullest extent the neglected,
the discarded, the unloved one, and revenge and hatred filled her soul
with a dreadful fury.
"'Adieu, dear, dear Lucrece!' cried Cecile; 'adieu! and pray for us.'
"'Ride on; the way is clear,' she replied, in a breathless voice.
"And Claude gave the spur to his Arab. Like an arrow it shot past her.
In another instant a scream rang upward on the stormy wind, as the horse
and its double burden went headlong into the wild abyss of rushing water
far below, and disappeared for ever!
"So perished my dear brother Claude, and with him my friend Cecile.
"Lucrece stood there for a time like one bewildered and aghast, for the
whole episode resembled a sudden and ghastly dream, from which she might
yet awaken. She saw only the river foaming past like a white flood amid
the blackening gloom, and its roar seemed deafening and stunning, and
she placed her hands on her ears to shut out the sound, as she went
slowly home, and for days and nights the roar of the river seemed never
to leave her. From that hour she was quite insane, and, if still alive,
is an inmate of the lunatic asylum at Beaujeu.
"This double catastrophe had such an effect upon my spirits that, after
the death of my father, by the advice of _monsieur le cure_, I quitted
the Chateau de Chaverondier, joined the order to which I now belong, and
was soon after sent hither with the army of the East."
Such, as nearly as I can remember, was the sad story of her early life
told me by Mademoiselle Chaverondier.
It was not until I began to recover that I became fully aware of the
vast debt of gratitude I owed to this good sister of charity, and that I
completely knew how much I owed to her sisterly and motherly care of me
during that perilous and loathsome disease.
But there were no means of repaying her. Gratitude of the heart was all
she would accept, and that I gave her to the full, but now daily, as I
became convalescent, and as my brother officers cantered over from the
vale of Aladyn to visit me, she left me more and more alone, and there
were three whole days during which she never came at all.
I rather think she was scared by Studhome, who had ridden over with a
couple of champagne bottles in his holsters, and whom she found smoking
in my _kiosk_, with his shell-jacket open, and his stock off, and
singing a song, the first verse of which was something in this style--
My father cared little for shot or shell,
He laughed at death and dangers;
He'd have stormed the very gates of hell,
At the head of the Connaught Rangers.
How much I missed her!
When she did return it was to bid me adieu, and to say that she had been
ordered to attach herself to the 45th regiment of the French line, where
severe duties awaited her, and that in all human probability I should
never see her more.
Those farewell words sounded sadly. We shook hands kindly,
affectionately, and parted with tears in our eyes. In my heart I felt
the love of a brother for that self-devoted French girl, and at that
time she could but little foresee the sad offices I was to render her in
the hour of suffering that was to come.
*CHAPTER XXXIV*
Then sacred be their last repose who fall
Bravely and greatly at their duty's call,
Mix with their country's cries the parting breath,
And from the vanguard face her foes in death!
I, too, have known the hour when friendship's tear
Has dewed from British eyes a comrade's bier,
When the rough soldier o'er the lowly cell
Of fallen courage breathed a last farewell,
Paid the last mournful honours to the brave,
And left, with heavy heart, the new-closed grave.
LORD GRENVILLE.
On the 5th of September the allied armies embarked at Varna, and the
14th of the same month saw us landing in the Crimea, on ground near the
Lake of Kamishlu--not that chosen by the gallant Lord Raglan
originally--some miles north of the Bulganak river, at a place where the
cliffs, a hundred feet in height, overhung the beach. But, save a
boat-load of Zouaves, who were run down by a steam-transport, all were
disembarked safely under cover of the cannon of the allied fleets, and
without molestation from the enemy. The change of landing-place was
owing to the treachery of the French, who altered the buoys in the
night.
Lord Raglan could scarcely forget, what many an old peninsular veteran
remembered, that the auspicious day on which we made this landing in the
country of the foe was the anniversary of the death of his former
leader, the great Duke of Wellington.
We were exactly thirty miles westward of Sebastopol. The morning was
fine, and the surface of the Black Sea was smooth as glass. The whole
of the troops of the light division were in their boats, in heavy
marching order, with sixty rounds per man; packed close, each soldier
sat with his firelock between his knees, and the seamen, with their oars
out in the rowlocks, all motionless, and awaiting the signal.
It was given, and instantly a hum, rising to a cheer, passed over all
that vast array of men and boats; a gleam passed over the bright
accoutrements, and the oars fell plashing into the water.
"Give way, lads--lay out upon your oars!" was the order.
And the whole line of boats--a mile in length--shot off from the fleet;
and at half-past eight A.M. the first, which belonged to the
_Britannia_, landed her living freight.
Mid-leg deep in the surf, the sailors lent us valuable assistance in
getting ashore. Fusiliers, Highlanders, guardsmen and rifles, lancers
and hussars, all rapidly formed line upon the beach, where the infantry
piled arms, and the cavalry stood by their horses. Those who may have
witnessed the trouble and care requisite for the landing of one horse
from a vessel, with all the appliances of a spacious quay, can imagine
the difficulties attendant on the disembarkation of one thousand
chargers, armed and accoutred on an open beach.
The French were landing elsewhere, under St. Arnaud and Canrobert; and
ere long, sixty thousand men stood to their arms on that remarkable
peninsula, Crim Tartary--of old, the Isle of Kaffa, and known to recent
fame as the Crimea!
We were entirely without baggage. Our tents, and everything that might
encumber us in advancing to meet the enemy, had been left on board the
fleet; thus, few of us had cause to forget the night of the 14th of
September, when the army halted to sleep in an open bivouac, on bare
ground, for we had learned nothing in the art of conducting a war since
Moore fought and fell at Corunna.
Without cessation the drenching rain fell down. Thus our thin uniforms
and blankets were speedily soaked; but all ranks suffered in common. I
saw the Duke of Cambridge sleeping amid his staff, with his head
protected by a little tilt cart. For myself, I chiefly passed that
miserable night muffled in my cloak, dismounted, in the ranks beside my
horse, with my right arm twisted in the stirrup-leather for support, and
my head reposing on the holster flap. Thus I snatched a standing doze,
with the cold rain pouring down the nape of my neck; and in this fashion
most of the cavalry division passed this night, the effects of which
were speedily shown in the ranks of our young and as yet untried army.
Many of our battalions were already in possession of a hill on the right
of our landing place, and commanding it; and all the evening of the 14th
its sides were brightened by the glitter of their arms shining brightly
in the sun (that was then setting in the golden Euxine), as they formed
along its green slope in contiguous close columns of regiments.
"But," says an eye-witness, "what were those long strings of soldiery
now beginning to come down the hillside, and to wind their way back
towards the beach? and what were the long white burdens horizontally
carried by the men? Already--already on this same day? Yes, sickness
still clung to the army. Of those who only this morning ascended the
hill with seeming alacrity, many now came down thus sadly borne by their
comrades. They were carried on ambulance stretchers, and a blanket was
over them. Those whose faces remained uncovered were still alive.
Those whose faces had been covered by their blankets were dead. Near
the foot of the hill the men began to dig graves."
Each poor fellow was buried in his uniform and blanket. Thus began our
war in the Crimea!
The reason for our tents being left on board was occasioned by the curse
of the red-tapeism and ignorance in London. On the outbreak of the
conflict, we were destitute alike of the _materiel_ and the _personnel_
for a transport corps of any description whatever, beyond a few Maltese
mule carts; and had the Russians availed themselves of the ample time so
kindly given them by our ministry, and swept every species of horse and
waggon from the Crimea, our advance upon Sebastopol had been a movement
of greater difficulty than it proved to be. All our most useful baggage
was thus left at Varna, and there I lost with mine much of the lumber
with which I had provided myself at Maidstone, and at good Sir Nigel's
expense. At last we were on Russian ground. I reminded Studhome of the
conduct of Mr. Berkeley, and urged that now a meeting should be arranged
beyond the outposts. I remember how palpably Jack changed colour at my
angry suggestion. He concealed from me a fact, which afterwards came to
my knowledge, that Berkeley had circulated injurious reports concerning
me through not only the lancers, but the hussar corps of our brigade.
But now Studhome put it to me, as a matter of feeling and discretion,
whether I should insist on this secret duel, for a matter that was long
past, when we would soon be face to face with the enemy, and when one of
us, perhaps both, might not be spared to see another muster day. These
arguments prevailed; I smothered my wrath, and met Mr. De Warr Berkeley
(as he chose to designate himself) on duty with cold civility, but
nothing more. To be cordial was beyond my powers of acting or
endurance. And thus, for the time, our quarrel stood. When those who
were ignorant of the cause of coolness between us remarked it, his
general answer was--
"Aw--haw--don't know the reason, 'pon my soul; but those Scotsmen are
such doocid awd fellahs."
Our contingent consisted of twenty-six thousand foot, one thousand
mounted cavalry, and sixty pieces of cannon, divided into five divisions
of infantry and one of horse; an absurdly small force to attempt an
invasion of Russia, even with the greater strength of the French and
Turkish allies--the former being thirty thousand, and the latter seven
thousand bayonets. Our first division, led by his Royal Highness the
Duke of Cambridge, consisted of the Grenadier, Coldstream, and Scots
Fusilier Guards, with three Highland regiments--the Black Watch, the
Cameron, and 93rd Highlanders, all considering themselves the _corps
d'elite_ of the army. The other divisions, under Sir George Brown, Sir
De Lacy Evans, Sir Richard England, and Sir George Cathcart, were
composed of our splendid infantry of the line--as I have elsewhere
said--the noble and carefully developed army of forty years of peace;
and the Earl of Lucan, who in his youth had served as a volunteer with
the Russians against the Turks in the campaigns under Diebitch, led our
mounted chivalry--the cavalry division--the flower of the British
Isles--yet to be covered with glory in the disastrous Valley of Death!
While the armies were advancing, with my troop I was repeatedly
despatched by the Quarter-master-General, Major-General Richard Airey,