Nothing excites such interest as a reconnaissance. Our army was deprived of the peculiar attractions of most wars in Europe. There was none of the romance of the Peninsular campaigns about it. We were all shut up in one dirty little angle of land, with Cossacks barring the approaches to the heavenly valley around us. There were no pleasant marches, no halts in town or village, no strange scenes or change of position; nothing but the drudgery of the trenches and of fatigue parties, and the everlasting houses and works of Sebastopol, and the same bleak savage landscape around. The hardest-worked officer was glad, therefore, to get away on a reconnaissance, which gave him an excitement, and varied the monotony of his life; it was a sort of holiday for him — a hunt at Epping, if there be such a thing, to cockney existence.{221}
Before midnight the wind changed, and began to blow, and the stars were overcast. About one o'clock the rain began to fall heavily, and continued to descend in torrents for an hour. Then the wind chopped round to the north and became intensely cold, the rain crystallized and fell in hail, the gale rose higher and increased in severity every moment. Then came down a heavy snow fall. It was evident that no good could come of exposing the men, and that the attack would be a failure; it certainly would not have enabled us to form any accurate conception of the numbers or position of the enemy, inasmuch as it was impossible for a man to see a yard before him. Major Foley was despatched by General Canrobert to inform Sir Colin Campbell that the French would not move, the regiments under arms were ordered back to their tents, which they found with difficulty. When Major Foley arrived after many wanderings, at head-quarters, one of Lord Raglan's aides-de-camp was dispatched to Sir Colin Campbell to desire him to postpone any movement. This officer set out about six o'clock in the morning for the heights over Balaklava. On passing through the French camp he called upon General Vinoy to inform him of the change which the weather had effected in the plans agreed upon, but the General said he thought it would be better to move down his men to support Sir Colin in case the latter should have advanced before the counter-orders reached him. When our aide-de-camp, after a struggle with the darkness, reached Sir Colin's quarters, the General was gone. Another ride enabled him to overtake the General, who was waiting for the French, and had his troops drawn up near Kamara.
It may be imagined the news was not very pleasing to one who was all on fire, cold as he was, for a brush with the enemy, but Vinoy's promise put him into excellent spirits. It was four o'clock when the troops moved towards the plain, through the snow-storm, which increased in violence as the morning dawned. The Rifles preceded the advance, with the Highland Light Infantry, in skirmishing order. Strict orders had been given that there was to be no firing, it was hoped that we might surprise the enemy, but the falling snow prevented our men from seeing more than a few yards, and after daylight it was impossible to make out an object six feet in advance. However, the skirmishers managed to get hold of three sentries, belonging probably to the picket at Kamara, but their comrades gave the alarm. As our troops advanced, the Cossacks and vedettes fell back, firing their carbines and muskets into the darkness. The drums of the enemy were heard beating, and through rifts in the veil of snow their columns could be observed moving towards the heights over the Tchernaya.
By this time our men had begun to suffer greatly. Their fingers were so cold they could not "fix bayonets" when the word was given, and could scarcely keep their rifles in their hands. The cavalry horses almost refused to face the snow. The Highlanders, who had been ordered to take off their comfortable fur caps, and to put on their becoming but less suitable Scotch bonnets, suffered especially, and some of them were severely frostbitten in the ears — {222}indeed, there was not a regiment out in which cases of "gelatio," chiefly of the ears and fingers, did not occur. Scarcely had the enemy appeared in sight before the snow fell more heavily than ever, and hid them from our view.
Sir Collin very unwillingly gave the order to return, and the men arrived at their quarters about ten o'clock A.M., very much fatigued.