Dudley's Fusiliers by Harold R. Thompson

Author:Harold R. Thompson [Thompson, Harold R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, British, Historical Fiction
ISBN: 1934841722
Amazon: B004U2AQEO
Publisher: Zumaya Yesterdays
Published: 2010-07-12T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

To conquer without risk is to triumph without glory.

— Pierre Corneille, “Le Cid”

Gentlemen in tall hats and ladies with parasols had come out of Sevastopol to watch the destruction of the Allied army at the Alma. Captured Russian officers admitted they had planned to hold their position for several days until the arrival of reinforcements. The ferocity of the British and French attack left them shocked and amazed. The civilian observers, disappointed, snatched up their picnic lunches and wine glasses and fled. Sevastopol, they feared, was a doomed city.

The Allies did not march straight on to Sevastopol. Instead, they passed by the city, the British continuing on south until they reached the little seaside port of Balaclava, a cluster of whitewashed cottages crammed into a little valley at the foot of two rocky headlands. The houses were all low single-story dwellings with crumbling greenish slate roofs—nothing but mean hovels, Dudley thought, compared to English cottages. After firing a few shots at the ancient towers that were all that remained of a Genoese castle that guarded the harbor from atop the eastern headland, the Royal Navy secured Balaclava as a base of supply. Shipping soon clogged the ramshackle wharfs.

Meanwhile, the French made their base of supply at the village of Kamiesch some ten miles to the north. The two armies then advanced on Sevastopol from the south. This so-called “flank march” was at the behest of General St. Arnaud. The French commander had argued the Russians expected the Allies to approach from the north; therefore, the southern side of Sevastopol would not be as well-defended. Lord Raglan had wanted to attack from the north without pausing to secure Balaclava and Kamiesch, but politics had won him over. In the interest of Anglo-French relations, he had agreed with St. Arnaud’s plan.

It would soon become apparent that St. Arnaud, on the decline with cholera, had been wrong.

* * * *

The Allies arrayed their encampments in the barren hilly country south and east of Sevastopol, creating a great half-circle of tents, guns, horses, carriages and supply depots. The French concentrated on the left of the half-circle, the British on the right. The Light and Second Divisions of the British infantry held the northern flank.

The Light Division made its camp on an open ridge the army dubbed “Victoria Ridge.” The navy transports had at last landed tents in Balaclava, and supply parties brought those tents to the camps in hired wagons. In every camp of the British army, the air rang with the slap of thousands of mallets striking thousands of wooden pegs. The sound was a beautiful percussive music to those soldiers who had gone without shelter for so long.

The Royal Hants raised their tents in perfect rows. When the task was finished, Dudley stood back and admired the military symmetry. Each tent was circular, bell-shaped, supported by a single pole, and designed to accommodate sixteen men. He worried the tents would be scant protection in the coming months. It would soon be October, and the Russian empire was infamous for its harsh winters.

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