through the principal Place, we were startled by the screeching of an owl perched on the blackened sill of a window, which I think impressed me more than anything with the idea of utter ruin and desolation. There is not a house untouched, and hardly a single roof remaining, and even these are pierced with round shot and shell; some of them have nothing but part of the walls standing, and you might look in vain all over the town for a single window. The docks, instead of being filled with ships or water, are devoid of both, the bottoms of them being covered with weeds and grass, and the only noise that disturbs this desert is the occasional whistling of a round shot, or the bursting of a shell, which the Russians still fire into the town from the north side. I am afraid I have given you a long-winded, prosj'' description, but you say you like knowing my thoughts when I write, so I have been putting them down as if I were talking to you. The final attempt on the part of the Fleet at annoying the enemy in the Sea of Azoff has been a most important one. The amount of cornstacks destroyed by them was so great that if it had been all collected close together it would have covered a space of 4 square miles. The corn was extremely fine, and almost all the straw was cut off close by the ear, which will give an idea of the incalculable mass of corn our friends over the way had collected for the supply of their army. The squadron were about to destroy another collection of ricks, but the Austrian Consul interfered, hoisted the Austrian colours over them, and declared them to be the property of his country, so they were spared. I think they ought to have been destroyed with the rest, and then compensation made to the Austrians, for the corn is sure to be used by the Russians.... — Ever your affectionate son, Fredk. Stephenson.
P.S. — ^The weather is lovely. Such a contrast to twelve months ago 1
1855-56] STEEPLECHASES 153
To Lady Stephenson
Sebastopol, December 7, 1855.
My dear Mother, —... Our time is now occupied in hutting and making ourselves comfortable for the winter. Not quite half our Brigade, officers and men, are in huts, the remainder still in tents and likelj'^ to be so some time longer. We cannot get huts quick enough, and the winter will be half over before they are all up. The officers' huts are comfortable enough, though they let the water in by bucketfuls, but it has been an occupation for us to try and make them watertight, in which some have succeeded; they are, however, not so well made as they should be. There are eight rooms in one of the officers' huts; the captains have one apiece, and the subalterns pig two together, and many of them mess together in some of their rooms, which are divided by partitions from each other, which do not go the whole way up to the roof, so I leave you to imagine the row that goes on all day long, every sound being duly communicated to every inhabitant of the peaceful retreat. Although such a state of things may not be in strict accordance with your notions of peace and comfort, it is a very agreeable one to us who are accustomed to noise. We give most recherche little dinnerparties, and constantly have rubbers of whist, etc., in short, we are very snug and comfortable; and whenever a contrary idea comes across me, I refer back to last winter, when the contrast is so agreeable that it more than reconciles me to any passing discomfort. We had some very good steeplechases the other day, in which I ran my horse, which was ridden by one of my subalterns, who, however, did not win.... — Your affectionate son,
Fredk. Stephenson.
To Lady Stephenson
Camp Sebastopol, Good Friday.
My dear Mother, — A new toy has sprung up to amuse the British soldier and wile away his leisure