legs swinging and dragging, and the arms vibrating stiffly to the steps of the bearers, to be added to the dreadful assembly. Not one of those looking on could I'eel secure that in the next twenty-four hours he would not be as one of these."
" The day," says Mr. Russell, " was beautifully bright and warm. White flags waved gently in the faint spring breeze above the embrasures of our batteries, and from the Round Tower and Mamelon. The instant the flags were hoisted, friend and foe swarmed out of the embrasures. The Riflemen of the Allies and of the enemy rose from their lairs in the rifle-pits, and sauntered towards each other to behold their grim handiwork. The whole of the space between the Russian lines and our own was fllled with groups of unarmed soldiery. The sight was strange beyond description. French, English, and Russian otficers were walking about saluting each other courteously as they passed, and occasionally entering into conversation; and a constant interchange of little civilities, such as offering and receiving cigar-lights, was going on in each little group.
"But, while all this civility was going on, we were walking among the dead, over blood-stained ground, covered with evidences of recent light. Broken muskets, bayonets, cartouch-boxes, caps, fragments of clothing, straps and belts, pieces of shell, little pools of clotted blood, shot — -round and grape, shattered gabions and sand-bags, were visible around us on every side, and through the midst of the crowd stalked a solemn procession of soldiers bearing their departed comrades to their long home. I counted seventy-seven litters borne past me in fifteen minutes, each filled with a dead enemy. The contortions of the slain were horrible, and recalled the memories of the fields of Alma and Inkermann. Some few French were lying far in advance towards the Mamelon and Round Tower, among the gabions belonging to the French advanced trenches, which the Russians had broken down. They had evidently been slain in pursuit of the enemy."
The Special Correspondent of the Morning Herald, after describing the appearance of the advanced trench on which the sortie had been made, proceeds to say: —
"At the left cud of this work was the little mortar battery. Several broken Russian firelocks were here; and between the mortars, in a row, lay some eight or ten Russian corpses, with their little round caps laid over their faces. In the corner several blood-stained stretchers leant against the parapet. Captain Chapman, R.E., was here with one or two artillery officers, and behind, where the. little groups stood chatting, lay the body of the Albanian chief, who had led so many sorties against the English. ■ It was that of a man in the prime of life, well formed and muscular. His weapons were gone.
THE BAST.
and his body had been partially stripped. The jacket was open, and shewed three deep bayonet thrusts in the chest, and the healed scars of two former wounds were plainly visible. The countenance had a horrible expression; the blood which had flowed from the mouth had dried upon it; the eyes were staring wide, and the rich black hair was matted and frowzy. His flowing kilt, all torn and soiled, had been used as a kind of shroud, and partially enveloped the corpse. Outside the work, the dead lay thick, and just as they had fallen. About one hundred were there in all.
"On the right, the appearance of the French trench showed that the struggle there had been long and doubtful. This work had almost all been completely destroyed, and, though every effort during the two nights which had since elapsed had been made to repair it, it was still in rather a dilapidated condition. The gabions had been pulled away, and were lying in heaps in front of the work, and in a long train, up to the MalakoiT Tower, just as the Russians had thrown them away in their flight. The enemy's dead were here in serious numbers.