W. Barnaed, Chief of the Staff"." It is difficult, as I have had occasion to observe on similar occasions, to give with any pretensions to accuracy the details of a battle, but it becomes almost impossible to attain correctness in describing sucli an affair as the assault on the Eednn under the peculiar circumstances -which attended it. In addition to the smoke of battle, flying clouds of dust mingled with sand blew right into the faces of the men and swept the hills in their rear, which were crowded with the spectators, or those who tried to be so. The irregularity of the ground offered another impediment to the view; but greater than all these obstacles was this, that no one could from any conceivable position in front see what was going on inside the Ecdan, which seemed to engulf our soldiers within its huge dun-coloured and ragged parapets, only to vomit them forth again in diminished numbers.
It was all along but too plain to understand what was taking place within from the external aspect of that ill-fated work, the slopes of which have twice astonished the world with the sight of British troops retreating after two successive attacks on its formidable defences. This Eedan has cost us more lives than the capture of Badajoz, without including those who have fallen in its trenches and approaches; and, although the enemy evacuated it, we can scarcely claim the credit of having caused them such loss that they retired oAving to their dread of a renewed assaidt. On the contrary, we must, in fairness, admit that the Eussians maintained their hold of the place till the French were established in the Malakhofl", and the key of the position was torn from their grasp.
They might, indeed, have remained in the place longer than they did, as tiie French were scarcely in a condition to molest them from the Malakhoff with artillery; but the Eussian general is a man of too much genius and experience as a soldier to lose men in defending an untenable position, and his retreat was effected with masterly skill and with perfect ease in the face of a victorious enemy. Covering his rear by the flames of the burning city and by tremendous explosions, which spoke in tones of portentous warning to those who might have wished to cut off his retreat, he led his battalions in narrow files across a deep arm of the sea, which ought to have been commanded by our guns, and in the face of a most powerful fleet.
He actually paraded them in our sight as they crossed, and carried off all his most useful stores and munitions of war. He left us few trophies and many bitter memories. He sank his ships and blew up his forts without molestation; nothing was done to harass him in his retreat with the exception of some paltry efforts to l^reak down the bridge by cannon-shot, or to shell the troops as they marched over. His steamers towed liis boats across at tlieir leisure, and when every man had been placed in safety, and not till then, the Russians began to dislocate and iloat off the diilcrent portions of their bridge and to pull it over to the north side. Tuesday SIorning, 1 a.m., September H.
For the last hour an exceedingly violent storm has been raging over the camp. The wind blows with such fuiy as to make the hut in which I am writing rock to and fro, at the same time filling it with fine dust which comes in through every crevice. The Eussians are very busy with their signals over the Tchernaya. The fires in Sebastopol, fanned by the wind, are spreading fast, and the glare of the burning city illuminates the whole arcli of the sky towards the north-west. The storm has increased in strength, and rain is beginning to fall heavily. The most dazzling flames of lightning shoot over the plateau and light up the camp for an instant, the peals of thunder are so short and startling as to resemble in this, while they exceed in noise, the report of cannon.
The rain has somewhat lessened the intensity' of the fii'e at Sebastopol, but its flames and those of the lightning seem at times to contend for the mastery. There is, indeed, a great battle raging in the skies, and its thunder mocks to scorn our heaviest cannonade. This supply of water will be very seasonable to the camp, where that article of consumption has been for a long time scanty and dirty. 4-15 A.:.i. In the whole course of my life I never heard or saw anj'thing like the deluge of rain which is now falling over this portion of the camp. It beats on the roof with a noise like that of a cataract: it is a veritable waterspout. The wind is shifting and ranges all round the compass.
The lightning is fainter, and the gusts are less violent. Sometimes for a minute there is a profound calm; then again it blows a hurricane. 4-23 A.:\I. The waterspout has passed away. Had it lasted ten minutes longer it might have drowned the camp. f)-45. A tornado is passing over the camp once more — hail, storm, and rain. The ground is converted into a mass of mud.