Henty George Alfred
Jack Archer: A Tale of the Crimea
Many of the tents had been struck down by the Russian shot; black heaps showed where others had been fired by the shell. Dimly ahead, when the mist lifted, could be seen bodies of men, while on a distant crest were the long lines of Russian guns, whose fire swept the British regiments.
"I suppose these regiments are in reserve?" Jack said, as he passed some of Sir R. England's division, lying down in readiness to move to the front when required, most of the battalions having already gone forward to support the troops who were most pressed.
Presently Captain Peel paused on a knoll, close to a body of mounted officers.
"There's Lord Raglan," Allison said, nudging Jack. "That's the headquarter staff."
At that moment a shell whizzed through the air, and exploded in the centre of the group.
Captain Gordon's horse was killed, and a portion of the shell carried away the leg of General Strangeway. The old general never moved, but said quietly,—
"Will any one be kind enough to lift me off my horse?"
He was laid down on the ground, and presently carried to the rear, where an hour afterwards he died.
Jack and his comrades, who were but a few yards away, felt strange and sick, for it was the first they had seen of battle close at hand. Lord Raglan, with his staff, moved slowly forward. Captain Peel asked if he should bring up his sailors, but was told to hold them in reserve, as the force in the trenches had already been fearfully weakened.
"Stay here," Captain Peel said to the midshipmen. "I shall go forward a little, but do you remain where you are until I return. Just lie down behind the crest. You will get no honor if you are hit here."
The lads were not sorry to obey, for a perfect hail of bullets was whistling through the air. The mist had lifted still farther, and they could obtain a sight of the whole line along which the struggle was raging, scarce a quarter of a mile in front of them. Sometimes the remnants of a regiment would fall back from the front, when a fresh battalion from the reserves came up to fill its place, then forming again, would readvance into the thick belt of smoke which marked where the conflict was thickest. Sometimes above the roll of musketry would come the sharp rattle which told of a volley by the British rifles.
Well was it that two out of the three divisions were armed with Minies, for these created terrible havoc among the Russians, whose smooth-bores were no match for these newly-invented weapons.
With beating hearts the boys watched the conflict, and could mark that the British fire grew feebler, and in some places ceased altogether, while the wild yells of the Russians rose louder as they pressed forward exultingly, believing that victory lay within their grasp.
"Things look very bad, Jack," Allison said. "Ammunition is evidently failing, and it is impossible for our fellows to hold out much longer against such terrible odds. What on earth are the French doing all this time? Our fellows have been fighting single-handed for the last three hours. What in the world can they be up to?"
And regardless of the storm of bullets, he leaped to his feet and looked round.
"Hurrah, Jack! Here they come, column after column. Ten more minutes and they'll be up. Hurry up, you lubbers," he shouted in his excitement; "every minute is precious, and you've wasted time enough, surely. By Jove, they're only just in time. There are the Guards falling back. Don't you see their bearskins?"
"They are only just in time," Jack agreed, as he stood beside his comrade. "Another quarter of an hour and they would have had to begin the battle afresh, for there would have been none of our fellows left. Hurrah! hurrah!" he cried, as, with a tremendous volley and a ringing shout, the French fell upon the flank of the Russians.
The lads had fancied that before that onslaught the Russians must have given way at once. But no. Fresh columns of troops topped the hill, fresh batteries took the place of those which had suffered most heavily by the fire of our guns, and the fight raged as fiercely as ever. Still, the boys had no fear of the final result. The French were fairly engaged now, and from their distant camps fresh columns of troops could be seen streaming across the plateau.
Upon our allies now fell the brunt of the fight, and the British, wearied and exhausted, were able to take a short breathing-time. Then, with pouches refilled and spirits heightened, they joined in the fray again, and, as the fight went on, the cheers of the British and the shouts of the French rose louder, while the answering yell of the Russians grew fainter and less frequent. Then the thunder of musketry sensibly diminished. The Russian artillery-men were seen to be withdrawing their guns, and slowly and sullenly the infantry fell back from the ground which they had striven so hard to win.
It was a heavy defeat, and had cost them 15,000 men; but, at least, it had for the time saved Sebastopol; for, with diminished forces, the British generals saw that all hopes of carrying the place by assault before the winter were at an end and that it would need all their effort to hold their lines through the months of frost and snow which were before them.
When the battle was over, Captain Peel returned to the point where he had left the midshipmen, and these followed him back to the camp, where, however, they were not to stay, for every disposable man was at once ordered out to proceed with stretchers to the front to bring in wounded.
Terrible was the sight indeed. In many places the dead lay thickly piled on the ground, and the manner in which Englishmen, Russians, and Frenchmen lay mixed together showed how the tide of battle had ebbed and flowed, and how each patch of ground had been taken and retaken again and again. Here Russians and grenadiers lay stretched side by side, sometimes with their bayonets still locked in each other's bodies. Here, where the shot and shell swept most fiercely, lay the dead, whose very nationality was scarcely distinguishable, so torn and mutilated were they.
Here a French Zouave, shot through the legs, was sitting up, supporting on his breast the head of his dying officer. A little way off, a private of the 88th, whose arm had been carried away, besought the searchers to fill and light his pipe for him, and to take the musket out of the hand of a wounded Russian near, who, he said, had three times tried to get it up to fire at him as he lay.
In other cases, Russians and Englishmen had already laid aside their enmity, and were exchanging drinks from their water-bottles.
Around the sand-bag battery, which the Guards had held, the dead lay thicker than elsewhere on the plateau; while down in the ravine where Cathcart had led his men, the bodies of the 63d lay heaped together. The sailors had, before starting, fill their bottles with grog, and this they administered to friend and foe indiscriminately, saving many a life ebbing fast with the flow of blood. The lads moved here and there, searching for the wounded among the dead, awed and sobered by the fearful spectacle. More than one dying message was breathed into their ears; more than one ring or watch given to them to send to dear ones at home. All through the short winter day they worked, aided by strong parties of the French who had not been engaged; and it was a satisfaction to know that, when night fell, the greater portion of the wounded, British and French, had been carried off the field. As for the Russians, those who fell on the plateau received equal care with the allies; but far down among the bushes that covered the hillside lay hundreds of wounded wretches whom no succor, that day at least, could be afforded.
The next day the work of bringing in the Russian wounded was continued, and strong fatigue parties were at work, digging great pits, in which the dead were laid those of each nationality being kept separate.
The British camps, on the night after Inkerman, afforded a strong contrast to the scene which they presented the night before. No merry laugh arose from the men crouched round the fires; no song sounded through the walls of the tents. There was none of the joy and triumph of victory; the losses which had been suffered were so tremendous as to overpower all other feeling. Of the regiments absolutely engaged, fully one-half had fallen; and the men and officers chatted in hushed voices over the good fellows who had gone, and of the chances of those who lay maimed and bleeding in the hospital tents.
To his great relief, Jack had heard, early in the afternoon, that the 33d had not been hotly engaged, and that his brother was unwounded. The two young officers of the 30th, who had, a few hours before, been spending the evening so merrily in the tent, had both fallen, as had many of the friends in the brigade of Guards whose acquaintance he had made on board the "Ripon," and in the regiments which, being encamped near by the sailors, he had come to know.
Midshipmen are not given to moralizing, but it was not in human nature that the lads, as they gathered in their tent that evening, should not talk over the sudden change which so few hours had wrought. The future of the siege, too, was discussed, and it was agreed that they were fixed where they were for the winter.
The prospect was a dreary one, for if they had had so many discomforts to endure hitherto, what would it be during the next four months on that bleak plateau? For themselves, however, they were indifferent in this respect, as it was already known the party on shore would be shortly relieved.
CHAPTER X.
THE GREAT STORM
Two days after the battle of Inkerman, the party of sailors who manned the batteries before Sebastopol were relieved by a fresh set from on board the men-of-war. Some of those who had been away at the front returned on board ship, while others, among whom was Jack Archer, were ordered to join the camp at the marine heights above Balaklava, to fill the places of some men invalided on board ship.
The change was, in some respects, an agreeable one; in others, the reverse. The position was very high and exposed to wind; but, on the other hand, the men, being able to obtain materials at Balaklava, had constructed warm shelters. The ravines below were well wooded, and they were consequently enabled to keep up cheerful fires; whereas at the front the supply of fuel barely sufficed to cook the food, and was almost useless for any purposes of warmth. There was far less privation here, for Balaklava lay within twenty minutes' walk, and stores of all kinds could be bought on board the ships. There was, too, an entire absence of the heavy and continuous work in the wet trenches. The great drawback to the position was, indeed, the absence of excitement and change, and the quiet seemed almost preternatural after the almost continual boom of cannon at the front.
Jack was pleased to find his chum Hawtry on duty at the height.
"This is a grand view, Hawtry," he said, as he stood at the edge of the cliff the morning after his arrival.
Below at his feet lay a great fleet of transports. To the left the cliffs stretched away, wild and precipitous, rising to heights far greater than the point at which they stood, some 600 feet above the sea. On his right the hill sloped gradually down to the old Genoese castle, and then sharply to the harbor, in which lay several men-of-war. In Balaklava, lines of wooden huts had been erected for a hospital, and their felt-covered roofs contrasted with the red tiles of the Tartar houses, and with the white walls and tower of the church. Along the valley at the foot of the harbor long lines of arabas and pack-animals, looking like mere specks from the point where the lads were standing, could be seen making their way to the front; while seven miles distant, on the plateau above Sebastopol, rose, like countless white dots, the tents of the Allied Army. Turning still farther round, they saw the undulating plain across which the light cavalry had charged upon the Russian guns, while standing boldly against the sky was the lofty table-land extending from above the village of Inkerman, right across the line of sight to the point known as Mackenzie Heights, from a farm belonging to an Englishman situated there. On these heights were encamped a large body of Russian troops.
"It's a splendid view, Dick," Jack Archer said; "but," he added, turning to look at the fleet of transports again, "I shouldn't like to be on board one of those ships if it came on to blow. It must be a rocky bottom and no holding-ground."
"That's what every one is saying, Jack. No one can make out why they don't let them all go inside. Of course they could not all unload at once, but there is room for them to shelter, if laid in tiers, as they would be in a crowded port. Yes, if we get a storm, and they say in the Black Sea they do have terrific gales during the winter, I fear we shall have a terrible business here."
Two days later they had a taste of what a storm in the Black Sea was. On the afternoon of Friday, the 10th, the wind got up, blowing straight into the bay. Very rapidly the sea rose. As dusk came on the sailors on the marine heights gathered on the edge of the cliff, and looked anxiously down upon the sea. Already great waves were tumbling in, dashing against the foot of the cliff, and sending clouds of spray half-way up to the old castle, 200 feet above them. The ships were laboring heavily, tugging and straining on their cables. From the funnels of the steamers volumes of black smoke were pouring, showing that they were getting up steam to keep the screws or paddles going, and relieve the strain upon their anchors.
"I wouldn't be aboard one of them craft," an old sailor said, "not for enough money to find me in grog and 'bacca for the rest of my life. If the gale gets stronger, half them ships will be ashore afore morning, and if they do, God help those on board!"
Happily the storm did not increase in violence, and when morning broke it was found that although many of the vessels had dragged their anchors, and some damage had been done by collisions, none had gone ashore. The knowledge, however, of how heavy a sea got up in a gale of even moderate force, and how frightfully dangerous was the position of the vessels, would, it might be thought, have served as a lesson, but unhappily it did not do so. The naval officer who was in charge of the harbor was obstinate, and again refused the request of the masters of many of the transports that the shipping might all be allowed to enter the harbor. He refused, and upon him is the responsibility of the terrible loss of life which ensued. On the 14th the wind again began to rise, and the sailors, as night came on, looked over the sea.
"We are going to have a bad night of it again," the officer in command of the post said, as he gazed seaward. "It looks as wild a night as ever I saw. Look how fast the scud is flying overhead. Last week's gale was a stiff one, but, unless I'm mistaken, it will be nothing to that which is upon us."
Louder and louder roared the wind, till men could scarce keep their feet outside shelter. The tents shook and rocked. Men could hardly hear each other's voices above the storm, and even in the darkness of night the sheets of foam could be seen dashing up to the very walls of the castle.
Jack Archer and Dick Hawtry, who with two other midshipmen occupied a tent, sat listening awe-struck to the fury of the gale. There was a gust fiercer than usual, accompanied by a crack like the sound of a pistol, followed by a stifled shout.
"There's a tent down!" Hawtry exclaimed, "and I shouldn't wonder—"
He did not finish, for at the moment the pole of their own tent broke asunder like a pipe, and in an instant the four were buried beneath the folds of the canvas. With much shouting and laughter they struggled to the entrance and made their way out. Half the tents were already levelled to the ground, and ten minutes later not one remained standing. The midshipmen crowded into the turf huts which some of the officers had had erected. Scarcely had they entered, when there was the boom of a heavy gun.
"I thought so," Dick Hawtry said. "There's the first of them. How many more will there be before morning?"
The door opened, and a sailor put in his head.
"Gentlemen, the captain says you are to turn out. He's going to take a party down to the castle with ropes."
In a few minutes a hundred men mustered, and moved down the hill. So fierce was the gale that, during the squalls, it was impossible to keep themselves on their feet, and all had to lie down till the fury of the gust had passed. It was pitch dark, and they groped rather than made their way along. Fast now, one after another, came the sound of the signal guns.
"There must be a dozen of them adrift," Dick shouted into his friend's ear during one of the lulls. "God help them all; what will become of them? A ship would be dashed to pieces like an eggshell against these cliffs."
When they reached the lowest point of the cliff, the party were halted and told to lie down and keep themselves in readiness, in case their services should be required. The officers struggled forward to the edge, and tried to see what was going on down in the bay below; but little could be seen, save the mighty sheets of spray, as the waves struck the cliffs. Here and there in the wild waters they fancied occasionally that they could see the dark forms of the ships, but even of this they could not have been certain, save for the twinkling lights which rose and fell, and dashed to and fro like fire-flies in their flight. Now and then the flash of a cannon momentarily showed some ship laboring in the trough of the mountainous sea.
"I believe that is the 'Black Prince,'" Jack shouted to his friend. "That big steamer which has been lying there the last week. If it is, she's ever so much nearer to shore than she was."
Suddenly a blue light threw its glare on the sea. It came from almost under their feet.
"Good heavens, Dick, there is a vessel on the rocks already; and look, a dozen more close in!"
The example was followed, and several other blue lights were burned showing plainly the terrible nature of the scene. The vessels were wallowing in the tremendous waves. Many had cut away their masts to relieve the strain on their anchors. The paddles and screws of the steamers were working at full speed, for the lines of white foam behind them could be plainly seen. But even this availed them but little, for almost every ship lay nearer to the line of cliffs than she did when night fell; several were close to the foot of the rocks, and the lookers-on noticed that some which had lain near the shore were missing. On the decks of the ships could be seen numbers of persons holding on to ropes and bulwarks. Sometimes from the deck of a vessel a rocket soared up, the wind catching it as it rose, and carrying it far inland.
By the captain's orders several blue lights, which the party had brought down, were burned, to show those on board that their position was perceived, but beyond this nothing could be done. Presently even above the noise of the gale a tremendous crash was heard, and they fancied that they heard a wild shout come faintly up.
"Can nothing be done?" Jack shouted to his friend.
"Nothing, sir," an old sailor said close by. "They are all doomed. There were over thirty ships there this morning, for I counted them, and I doubt if one will live out the night."
By this time the sailors, unable to lie inactive, had joined the officers, and all were scattered in groups along the cliff.
"Is there no possible way of getting down near the water?" Jack said.
"I don't think so, sir; but if it were daylight we might make a shift to try."
"Let us try, anyhow," Jack said.
"Oh, there is another!" as another crash was heard above the gale.
"Anything is better than standing here. I don't think the cliff goes quite sheer down everywhere. Let us try, Dick; it would be a relief to be doing something."
"All right, Jack. Let you and I stick together. Do you lads," he said, turning to three or four sailors who were standing by, "keep close to us, and lend a hand." At the point where they were standing, it was clearly impossible to get down, for the rock sloped straight from, their feet. Farther to the left, however, it went down more gradually, and here the boys began to try to descend.
"There is a sort of hollow here," Jack shouted, "a sort of ravine. This is our best place."
Cautiously, step by step, holding on to such bushes as grew among the rocks pausing sometimes flattened against the rocks by the force of the gust, and drenched every moment by the sheets of spray, the boys made their way down, till they paused at a spot where the rock fell away sheer under their feet. They could go no farther. At the moment they heard a wild scream. A vessel appeared through the darkness below, and crashed with a tremendous thud against the rocks. The masts, which were so close that the boys seemed almost able to jump upon them, as they reached nearly to the level on which they were standing, instantly going over the side. Peering over, they could see the black mass in the midst of the surging white waters at their feet. The sailors had paused some way up the ascent, appalled by the difficulties which the boys, lighter and more active, had accomplished.
"Go up to the top again," Hawtry said, climbing back to them. "Bring down one of those spars we brought down, a block, a long rope, and a short one to serve as a guy. Get half-a-dozen more hands. You'd better fix a rope at the top firmly, and use it to steady you as you return. There's a ship ashore just underneath us, and I think we can get down."
In a few minutes the sailors descended again, carrying with them a spar some twenty feet long. With immense difficulty this was lowered to the spot which the boys had reached. One of the sailors had brought down a lantern, and by its light a block was lashed to the end, and a long rope roved through it. Then a shorter rope was fastened to the end as a guy, and the spar lowered out, till it sloped well over the edge. The lower edge was wedged in between two rocks, and others piled round it.
"Now," Dick said, "I will go down."
"You'll never get down alive, sir," one of the sailor said. "The wind will dash you against the cliff. I'll try, sir, if you like; I'm heavier."
"Let me go down with you," Jack said. "The two of us are heavier than a man, and we shall have four legs to keep us off the cliff. Besides, we can help each other down below."
"All right," Dick said. "Fasten us to the rope, Hardy. Make two loops so that we shall hang face to face, and yet be separate, and give me a short rope of two or three fathoms long, so that we can rope ourselves together, and one hold on in case the other is washed off his feet when we get down. Look here, Hardy, do you lie down and look over the edge, and when you hear me yell, let them hoist away. Now for it!"
The boys were slung as Dick had ordered. "Lower away steadily," Dick said. "Stop lowering if we yell."
In another minute the lads were swinging in space, some ten feet out from the face of the cliff. For the first few yards they descended steadily, and then, as the rope lengthened, the gusts of wind flung them violently against the face of the cliff.
"Fend her off with your legs, Jack; that's the way. By Jove, that's a ducking!" he said, as a mighty rush of spray enveloped them as a mountainous sea struck the rock below. "I think we shall do it. There's something black down below, I think some part of her still holds together; slowly!" he shouted up, in one of the pauses of the gale, and Hardy's response of "Aye, aye, sir," came down to them.
It was a desperate three minutes; but at the end of that time, bruised, bleeding, half-stunned by the blows, half-drowned by the sheets of water which flew over them, the lads' feet touched the rocks. These formed a sloping shelf of some thirty feet wide at the foot of the cliff.
The wreck which had appeared immediately under them was forty feet away, and appeared a vague, misshapen black mass. They had been seen, for they had waved the lantern from the edge of the cliff before starting, and they had several times shouted as they descended, and as they neared the ground, they were delighted at hearing by an answering shout that their labors had not been in vain, and that some one still survived.
"Throw us a rope," Dick shouted at the top of his voice; and in a moment they heard a rope fall close to them. Groping about in the darkness, they found it, just as a wave burst below them, and, dashing high over their heads, drove them against the rock, and then floated them off their feet. The rope from above held them, however. "Lower away!" Dick yelled, as he regained his feet, and then, aided by the rope from the ship, they scrambled along, and were hauled on to the wreck before the next great sea came.
"I've broken my arm, Dick," Jack said; "but never mind me now. How many are there alive?"
There were sixteen men huddled together under the remains of the bulwark. The greater portion of the ship was gone altogether, and only some forty feet of her stern remained high on the rocky ledge on which she had been cast. The survivors were for the most part too exhausted to move, but those who still retained some strength and vigor at once set to work. In pairs they were fastened in the slings, and hauled up direct from the deck of the vessel, another rope being fastened to them and held by those on the wreck, by which means they were guided and saved somewhat from being dashed against the cliff in the ascent.
When those below felt, by the rope no longer passing between their hands, that the slings had reached the top, they waited for a minute to allow those in them to be taken out, and then hauling upon the rope, pulled the slings down again for a fresh party. So, slowly and painfully, the whole party were, two by two, taken up from the wreck.
Several times while the operation was being performed great crashes were heard, followed by loud shouts and screams, as vessel after vessel drove ashore to the right or left of them. But Jack and his friend, who consulted together, agreed that by no possibility could these be aided, as it was only just at the point where the wreck lay that the rocks at the foot of the cliff were high enough to be above all but exceptionally high waves, and any one adventuring many yards either to the right or left would have been dashed to pieces against the cliff by the first wave.
The midshipmen were the last to leave the ship. Dick had in vain begged his messmate to go up in one of the preceding batches, as the last pair would necessarily be deprived of the assistance from the lower rope, which had so materially aided the rest. Jack, however, refused to hear of it. When the slings came down to them for the last time, they put them on, and stood on the wreck watching till a great wave came. When it had passed, they slipped down the side of the ship by a rope, and hurried over the rocks till immediately under the spar, whose position was indicated by a lantern held there. Then, in answer to their shout, the rope tightened, and they again swung in the air.
The wind blew no more fiercely than before; indeed, it was scarce possible it could do so; but they were now both utterly exhausted. During the hour and a half which they had stood upon the remains of the wreck, they had been, every minute or two, deluged with water. Sometimes, indeed, the sea had swept clean over them, and had it not been that they had lashed themselves with ropes, they must have been swept away.
Every great wave had swept away some plank or beam of the wreck, and when they left it, scarce a fragment of the deck remained attached to the rudder-post. Terrible was the buffeting they received as they ascended, and time after time they were dashed with immense force against the face of the cliff.
To Jack the noise and confusion seemed to increase. A strange singing sounded in his ears, and as the slings reached the top, and a burst of cheering broke from the seamen there, all consciousness left him.
The officer in command of the party was himself at the spot; he and many others having made their way down, when the news spread that a rescue was being attempted. Dick, too, was unable to stand, and both were carried by the sailors to the top of the slope. Here a cup of strong rum-and-water was given to Dick, while some pure spirits poured down his throat soon recalled Jack to consciousness. The latter, upon opening his eyes, would have got up, but this his officer would not allow; and he was placed on a stretcher and carried by four tars up to the heights, where he was laid in one of the sod huts, and his arm, which was badly fractured, set by the surgeon.
The sixteen rescued men had, as they gained the top, been at once taken down into Balaklava, the sole survivors of the crews of over twenty ships which had gone to pieces in that terrible hurricane.
Of the fleet of transports and merchantmen which, trim and in good order, had lain in the bay the afternoon before, some half-dozen only had weathered the hurricane. The "City of London" alone had succeeded in steaming out to sea when the gale began. The "Jason" and a few others had ridden to their anchors through the night. The rest of the fleet had been destroyed, victims to the incompetence and pig-headedness of the naval officer in charge of the harbor. That there was ample room for all within it, was proved by the fact that, later on, a far larger number of ships than that which was present on the day of the gale lay comfortably within it.
The largest ship lost was the "Prince," with whom nearly 300 men went down. Even inside the harbor vessels dragged their anchors and drifted ashore, so terrible was the gale, which, indeed, was declared by old sailors and by the inhabitants of the town to be the most violent that they ever experienced. Enormous quantities of stores of all kinds, which would have been of immense service to the troops in the winter, were lost in the gale, and even in the camps on shore the destruction was very great.
