The pleasant interval was brief. Towards ten o'clock another storm arose; the lightning flashed blue and blinding in every quarter of the heavens, again the rain fell in torrents, and the rolling of the thunder, mingled with the roar of the artillery, left one at times almost in doubt whether the uproar proceeded from the heavens or the batteries. On account, probably, of the bad weather, there was loss firing tliaii usual. Now and then three or four cannon shots followed one another in rapid succession, the ritles engaged in a brief and angry conversation, and shells by twos and threes took their leisurely and lofty llight skywards — the fuse, like a little ball of llame, alternately appearing and vanishing, until with sudden dip, they plunged into trench or battery.
Then came the deep voice of the thunder, rebuking the discord and mocking the puny rivalry of man. The rain continued to fall heavily during the night and morning, and to-day the camp is a field of mud, in parts almost a morass. It is not easy to imagine anything more discouraging in its aspect than the camp before ^r^ebastopol in rainy weather. The look is worse than the reality, for the tents generally resist the wet, and the men are abundantly provided with clothes, covering, and rations. Viewed from a short distance, the great undulating tract over which the allied army is scattered, resembles an immense ploughed field. Of grass there is very little — only a sprinkling here and thei-e. The numerous flowers of vivid colours, which in spring and early summer cheered and enlivened the view, have long since been burnt up by the sun or trodden down by the feet of men and horses.
The landscape wears one general brown tint, bounded by a line of dull gray mountains, often capped by murky and watery clouds. The habitations of the army are of three classes — wooden huts, huts or hovels (dating from last winter, and partly subterranean), and tents. Happy, at least at this season, is the man who possesses a good wooden hut with a plank flooring. Most of the large huts, however, are used as store-houses, or for other general purposes. The walls of the hovels (for such is the term that most correctly designates them) are usually three or four feet below groimd^ and about as much above it, and ai-e surmounted by gabled roofs, without which, in some of them, a tall man could hardly stand upright.
These singular dwellings ai-e, as may be supposed, damp and gloomy. They are entered by three or four steps cut in the earth, and usually covered with stones or planks. Here is one of which the entrance is so low that a man of average height must bend double to get in. It is considered rather a good hut, and its owners speak with gratitude, almost with enthusiasm, of the excellent shelter itallbrded them in the trying times of last winter. It is eight or nine feet broad, and about twelve in length. At one end a sort of embrasure admits ligl ' through the thick wall, composed of mud and shapeless masses of stone. Below tins embrasure is the bed, barely raised fifom the ground; on one side is a small niche in the wall, used as a fireplace.
The walls are tapestried with sail-cloth, horse blankets, and manias that have come all the way from Catalonia and Valencia with the Spanish mules and muleteers, and are adorned with pictures cut from illustrated periodicals, and with numerous pipes, hien culottees — well blackened, that is to say, by the tobacco oil that has soaked through the poi'ous clay. There is actually a chimney-piece — a thick board wrenched from some packing case, the rusty nails still sticking in its edges — which supports a biscuit-box, tobacco, bottles in various stages of consumption, and other small comforts. Here is a rough tub, which was used for the ablutions of the inmates, until scarcity of water caused the prohibition of such luxuries. Suspended from the homely tapestry are a sword, a pouch-belt, waterproof and leathern leggings.
A pair of tall boots are in one corner, and hard by the door — the lightest place — is a crazy table, with writing materials and sundries. A shelf has been contrived, and holds a few well-thumbed volumes. The heavy rain has flowed into the liut through the doorway up to the edge of the bed; the consequence is that the floor resembles a muddy road, in which you slip about and almost stick fast. A trifle, this, to Crimean campaigners. The roof does not leak, which is more than can be said of the roofs of many huts. The one I have described may be taken as a fair specimen of the class of edifice. Transported to England, and exhibited as the dwelling of an Esquimaux or American Indian, it would doubtless excite surprise and compassion, and people would wonder that even savages could exist in such dens — here cheerfully tenanted by very civilized persons.