A short delay ensued, which I perceived that the Cossack corporal availed himself of to exchange his Sardinian whip for a much better French one, the receiver of the former doubtless imagining he had secured a genuine Russian article. Then cocked hats and feathers were seen moving among the horses near the tents; orderlies and escorts mounted; the Cossacks did the same, and presently English, French, Sardinian, and Russian Generals and Staff rode over the bridge and between a double line formed by the spectators. General Timovoieff, a soldierly-looking man of agreeable physiognomy, rode first, and smilingly returned the salutes with which he was received. General Windham was close beside him, a little in the rear. There was an escort of French Chasseurs-à cheval and a small one of the 11th Hussars, and the big horses and tall well-fed men of the latter strikingly contrasted with the puny, although hardy steeds, and with the meagre frames of the Cossacks, who seemed to regard them with some wonderment, while the Hussars glanced at them as if they thought that one squadron of theirs would have an easy bargain of half a dozen sotnias of such antagonists. The cortége proceeded a short distance into the plain, and then the allied portion took leave of "nos amis l'ennemi" and retraced their steps to the bridge. They had passed over it, and the crowd of spectators was following, when they were met by a throng of officers from the English camp, coming down "to see the fun," which, unfortunately, was over. Nevertheless, they were pressing forward across the bridge, and would, doubtless, had they been allowed, have ridden up to the{462} Bilboquet battery, or across to Mackenzie's Farm — for it is an axiom that nothing will stop an English infantry officer, mounted on his favourite baggager; but a French Staff captain, seeing what was likely to ensue, ordered the sentries to allow no one to cross the bridge. As we rode up the ravine between the two mamelons, which witnessed such sharp fighting on the 17th of August, 1855, we met scores more of English officers coming down, only to be turned back.
At one on the afternoon of March 14th, the Staff of the allied and Russian armies again met at Traktir Bridge — on this occasion to sign the conditions of the armistice, which were finally agreed to, the Russians having shown themselves tolerably pliant. The day was raw, dull, and disagreeable, with a sharp northerly breeze blowing, but nevertheless a considerable number of English, French, and Sardinian officers found their way to the bridge, doubtless in hopes of a repetition of the canter of the 29th of February; but if that was the bait that lured them there they were completely disappointed.
Altogether, there was a good number of Russian officers at or near Traktir Bridge. Some of them were strolling by twos and threes in the field, at a short distance beyond, and when these were descried there was usually a regular charge down upon them by the allied officers, eager to make their acquaintance. Their manner was generally grave and rather reserved, but they conversed readily, and all had the tone and appearance of well-bred men. Some of them were very young. There was one youth of eighteen, who named to us the regiment of Hussars in which he was an officer, and seemed knowing about horses, pointing out the English ones from among the French, Italians, and Arabs that stood around. All — cavalry as well as infantry, and the General and his Staff — wore the long uniform greatcoat of a sort of brown and grey mixture, and seemed to have no other insignia of rank than the different colours and lace of the shoulder-strap. There was also a difference of fineness in the cloth of their coats from that of the soldiers, but this at a very short distance was not apparent. The Staff wore white kid gloves, and I noticed some of them with smart patent leather boots — elegancies rarely seen in our part of the Crimea.
This time there was no scouring the plain and gossiping with vedettes; the aqueduct was the limit, observance of which was enforced by a chain of Zouave sentries patrolling to and fro. A Russian picket was stationed at about rifle-shot distance beyond the river, along the further bank of which Cossack and Dragoon vedettes were posted at short intervals. There was nothing else of any interest to observe, and most of the persons whom curiosity led to the spot soon grew tired of standing at the edge of a ditch, and gazing at a distant handful of Muscovites; so they turned their horses, and tried to warm themselves by a canter back to the camp.
But so far as Sebastopol was concerned there was little for the Russians to gain by covering it with the thin cloak of an armistice.{463}