On Sunday, 21st, in the forenoon, Church pendants were hoisted, and Divine Service according to the Church of England was duly celebrated, for the first time since Christianity blessed the earth, in the confluence of the Bug and Dnieper, within sight of the spires of many Greek orthodox churches. Afterwards, the French had a little missa sohnnis of their own. At 2.30 p.m., three large and one small gun-boat of their squadron got up steam and weighed. They stood straight up the river, and great was our excitement lest they should silence the battery which we had left with its teeth drawn, if not its tongue tied.
Before they started, Sir Houston Stewart, having signalled for
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an officer of the Spitfire to come on board, went off in the Cracker, attended by the Grinder, to examine the coast to the SSE., and to ascertain the cause of the numerous fires, indicated by pillars of smoke, in that direction. The Allied troops were supposed to be advancing for forty miles along the Spit, to destroy the forage and provision, so as to make the country waste. However harsh this measure may appear, it was a necessary operation. When Sydney Smith drew his terrible picture of John Bull's afflictions in a probable invasion — corn-ricks blazing on every side — sows of the best breed running about with their throats cut, he must have had a prophetic inkling of the operations of the troops on their way to Cherson.
Our Allies sidled up to the Spit, where we were engaged. Perhaps they had some notion that they might succeed in destroying the battery which their good friends, the English, had not reduced to silence. The day was very dull, and there was immense refraction, so that the end of the cliff appeared to be lifted out of the water, and the vessels to have wavering hulls and quivering masts. At last they arrived off the Spit, and the enemy opened fare upon them at once. The small gun -boat stood bravely on till it was within.1,500 yards of the shore — the others anchored at 1,800, and they then engaged the breastwork very sharply. The French averred that they dismounted one gun at least, and drew down a great body of the enemy before they retired. This they did after half an hour's dalliance, and then they anchored off the mouth of the Bug, close to us once more.
Meantime we had seen a sight which led us to believe that His.Majesty the Czar, or one of his Imperial family, was actually honouring our little squadron by a minute inspection. Perhaps he was thinking how much better they would look if they were all assembled to run for a marine Cesarewitch. It might, indeed, have been after all only a Governor of Cherson whom we saw, but there certainly did appear, on the east bank of the Bug, about mid-day, some great man on a big, black horse, followed by ten or twelve mounted officers, and some few orderlies. This august personage rode over to the Cossack post, dismounted, and honoured us, through his glass, by a good look, which he interrupted from time to time by a few words to those around him. Presently a Cossack came galloping across the steppe at full speed, to the group of cavaliers. He dismounted, and walking to the surveyor of our navy, knelt down, and appeared to kiss his feet, as he handed him a despatch. The great man read the missive, mounted his horse, and, followed by his suite, rode off to a neighbouring post. The next time we saw him he was visiting the Cossack post higher up the river, after which he proceeded along the road towards Nicholaieff. Some time after the French boats had returned, the English gun-boats came in sight. They all came back, having disturbed immense quantities of wildfowl, which have frequented the banks of the Borysthenes since remotest history. The vessels anchored in their old place, and Admiral Stewart left the Cracker, and went on board the Stromboli. At night strict watch
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was kept. Fire-ships are not much to be feared by steamers, but still the wind was strong down from Nicholaieff, and the Russians might attempt something. Look-out men, sentinels, and loaded carronades were placed fore and aft, and with these precautions we went to sleep — in the waters, for the time being, of Her Majesty the Queen and of His Imperial Majesty Louis Napoleon.