A group of unpretending farm buildings, with a few stunted trees in front of them, and a sentry pacing up and down his monotonous beat, mark the head-quarters of the British Army in the Crimea. The winter's sun throws the faint shadows of the trees on the white walls of the building, and enlivens the general aspect of the scene.
A group of French and English Officers in earnest conversation, several led horses in different parts of the court -yard, and mounted orderlies arriving and departing, give an air of business to the foreground inseparable from the centre of the vast and complicated machinery of a large army in an enemy's country. It was here that Lord Raglan lived through the long and dreary winter, and amidst circumstances the most trying, with prospects which seemed each day to grow darker, with the army which he loved perishing before his eyes, assailed by the most senseless calumny and the most galling detraction, his heroic courage, his unshaken confidence in the fortunes of his country, never for a moment quailed. The weight of an enormous responsibility, the failure of an enterprise in which he had engaged from a sentiment of the most exalted chivalry rather than with any expectation of success, grief for the repeated loss of near and valued friends, and the assaults of a disease which selects as its peculiar victims those who are exposed to severe mental anxiety, at length combined to break the noble spirit which they could not bend. He died as he had lived, calmly and grandly, surrounded by the affectionate veneration of all who had the privilege of his intimacy, and bewailed with the sincerest sorrow by the men whom he had commanded, by the Allies, and by his country.
Justice has long since been rendered to the eminent qualities which distinguished him as a man, a citizen, and a soldier: his gentle and conciliating manners, so peculiarly fitting him for the delicate and difficult duties of a divided command, — his unvarying affability, his kindness of heart, his courage, "which rivalled that of antiquity," — his unswerving devotion in the path of duty, — all these were known and admitted, even by those who affected to deny to him the more brilliant characteristics of a great general. But time, which has silenced his calumniators, and trans-
DISTANT VIEW OF LORD RAGLAN's HEAD-QUABTERS. 71
ferred the blame once so lavishly and so unjustly bestowed upon him to the really guilty, has also matured the results which he had so ably prepared, though he was not permitted to behold them. The fall of Sebastopol, and the circumstances which attended it, have amply vindicated the wisdom and the policy of many of his actions which were once the most freely censured; and every day adds another distinguished name to the cloud of witnesses whose position enables, as their convictions command them, to enhance the lustre of a name, which England will ever count amongst those of the bravest, the wisest, and the best of her sons.
DISTANT VIEW OF LORD RAGLAN'S HEAD-QUARTERS BEFORE SEBASTOPOL.
We have here the subject of the preceding sketch viewed from a distance, and connected with the surrounding camps, and the offensive and defensive works of the contending armies. The position of the English and French batteries is again clearly indicated, and beyond them are seen the Russian defences and the town, with the English fleet in the far distance. The several camps are those of the 3d and 4th Divisions, of the Heavy Cavalry, and of Captain Brandling's troop of Horse Artillery. On the extreme right is a small farmhouse, surrounded with tents, below which are those of General Scarlett. The emaciated body of a dead horse in the foreground tells its own tale, and informs us that the difficulties and disasters of winter have already commenced, — disasters typed at once and augmented by the fate of the wretched animals who perished by thousands on the road to the camp, the worn-out victims of fatigue and starvation.
PORTRAIT -POUNDER, 15th DECEMBER, 1854.
A quiet day! an interval of calm between the past and coming storm, a brief intermission in the rolling of the thunder, — a moment of repose snatched from the toil and turmoil, the anxiety and harass, the dread