A new wooden world arose in a few days in early February along the hill-side over the road to Balaklava. A little town was erected on the right-hand side of the path, about three-quarters of a mile outside Balaklava, for the sutlers expelled from the town, in which fires had been suspiciously frequent; and, from the din and clamour, one might imagine he was approaching some well-frequented English fair. A swarm of men, in all sorts of grotesque uniforms, French, English, and Turks, thronged the narrow lines between the huts and tents, and carried on bargains in all the languages of Babel, with Greek, Italian, Algerine, Spaniard, Maltese, Armenian, Jew and Egyptian, for all sorts of merchandize. Here I beheld a runaway servant of mine — a vagabond Italian — selling small loaves of bread for 2s. each, which he had purchased from a French baker in Balaklava for 1s. 6d. As the authorities did not interfere in such cases, I was left to solace myself with the poor revenge of seeing him break his shins over a tent-stick as he ran away to escape my horsewhip.
In the camp all the scoundrels of the Levant who could get across the Black Sea, were making little fortunes by the sale, at the most enormous prices, of the vilest articles of consumption, which necessity alone forced us to use: and a few honest traders might also be seen sitting moodily in their stalls and mourning over their fast-departing probity. There was not then one Englishman, so far as I know, among these sutlers of the British army, though the greatest vein of nuggets that ever charmed multitudes to a desert was as dross and dirt to the wealth to be realized in this festering crowd. Camel-drivers, arabajees, wild-eyed, strange-looking savages from out-of the-way corners of Asia Minor, dressed apparently in the spoils of the chorus of "Nabucco" or "Semiramide," stalked curiously through the soldiery, much perplexed by the conflicting emotions of fear of the Provost-Marshal and love of plunder. Then there was an odd-looking acre or two of ground, with a low wall round it, which looked as if all the moles in the world lived beneath it, and were labouring night and day — so covered was it with mounds of earth, through which peered rags and bones. This was the Turkish burying-ground, and full well frequented was it. Little parties might be seen flocking to it down the hill-sides all day, and returning with the empty litters gravely back again. They also turned one or two vineyards into graveyards, and they also selected a quiet nook up among the hills for the same purpose. Our own more decent graveyard was situated outside the town, in{214} low ground, close to the sea. It was soon afterwards crossed by the railway, and covered by sheds, so that all traces of the graves were obliterated.
If Birnam Wood had been formed of deal boards, Macbeth might have seen his worst suspicions realized. He would have beheld literally miles of men, and of mules and ponies, all struggling through the mud with boards — nothing but boards. In calm weather they got on well enough, but a puff of wind put an end to progress, and a strong gust laid men and horses in the mire. However, they were slowly working up towards the camp, but how hard it was to take up even one hut, and what a great quantity of timber had to be moved ere the building was complete.
The cold and frost had almost disappeared; but the inhabitants warned us not to be misled; March was still to be endured, and we heard that he roared right royally, and came in, and remained in, with bitter cold and very strong winds, and heavy falls of rain, sleet, and snow. March was, in truth, like November. The climate, was beyond all conception fickle. A bird might be singing under the impression that he had done with foul weather, and think of getting ready his nest, and shortly afterwards be knocked down by a blow on the head from a hailstone.
An order was issued to supply charcoal in the trenches; but the commissariat could not furnish either the charcoal or transport. In default, the men were obliged to grub out the roots of brushwood or of vines, and were often obliged to go down the hill-sides under the enemy's fire, to gather enough to cook their meals.
The "navvies" worked away heartily, pulling down the rickety houses and fragments of houses near the post-office of Balaklava, to form the terminus of the first bit of the Grand Crimean Central Railway (with branch line to Sebastopol). The frail houses dissolved into heaps of rubbish under their vigorous blows, and the more friable remains were carted off and shot into and over the ineffable horrors and nastiness of the Turkish plague and charnel-houses. They landed a large quantity of barrows, beams, rails, spades, shovels, picks, and other materials.