Captain Villiers, of the 47th, who commanded the covering party, ordered his men to observe the utmost silence, and the same injunction was given to the seamen. About 2.30 in the morning, when she had been an hour or so in her novel brrth, a broad light was perceived in her fore hatchway. The leading steamer on the opposite side in a second afterwards exhibited gleams of equal brightness, and then one! two! three! four! five! — as though from signal guns, the remaining steamers, with one exception, emitted jets of fire. The jets soon became columns of name and smoke — the wind blew fresh and strong, so the fire soon spread with rapidity, and soon lighted up the whole of the heavens. rHio
CRIMEA.
masts were speedily licked and warmed into a fiery glow, and the rigging burst out into fitful wavering lines of light, struggling with the wind for life: the yards shed lambent showers of sparks and burning splinters upon the water. The northern works could be readily traced by the light of the conflagration, and the faces of the Russian soldiers and sailors who were scattered about on. the face of the cliff shone out now and then, and justified Rembrandt. The vessels were soon nothing but huge arks of blinding light, which hissed and crackled fiercely, and threw up clouds of sparks and embers; the guns, as they became hot, exploded, and shook the crazy hulls to atoms. One after another they went down into the seething waters.
At daybreak only one steamer remained. A boat pushed alongside her from the shore, and after remaining about ten minutes regained the shore. Very speedily the vessel began to be seized with a sort:>f internal convulsion — first she dipped her bows, then her stern, «hen gave a few uneasy shakes, and at length, after a short quiver, went down bodily, cleverly scuttled. Thus was Sinope avenged. Of the men who planned, the sailors who executed, and the ships which were engaged on that memorable expedition, no trace remained. Korniloff, rSTachimoff, Istomine, and their crews, disappeared: their vessels rest at the bottom of the roadstead of Sebastopol. The Russians preferred being agents of their own destruction, and did not give the conqueror a chance of parading the fruits of his victory. We could not delight the good people of Plymouth or Portsmouth by the sight of Russian liners and steamers. We could only drive the enemy to the option of destroying or of doing the work for him, and he invariably preferred the former.