Whatever may be the merits of this question, into which we shall not follow the disputants, the poetic description a^jplies so justly and accurately to the peculiar characteristics of the land-locked harbour of Balaklava, and illustrates so happily the point of view selected by Mr. Simpson, that we shall not apologise for its introduction in this place, and shall only add to it by a brief notice of the most striking features of the drawing. A couple of tents, part of the encampment, form the foreground, and in front of these some English soldiers are cooking their rations, while a hungry Tartar, in the costume of the country, looks on, and receives instruction, at once ocular and olfactory, in the mysteries of the Western cuisine. The town is exhibited as it appeared on our first arrival, with the exception that some of the houses present a somewhat dilapidated aspect, having been destroyed by the troops in order to obtain fuel. Amongst the buildings, two of the most conspicuous are a new church still unfinished, and a large, square house, converted from its primitive destination into an ordnance office. The bay is already crowded with vessels, which, however, are few in comparison to those with which it was subsequently choked. Immediately in front of the Ordnance Wharf is a large transport vessel, alongside of which Lord Cardigan's yacht is resting gracefully and airily on the untroubled surface of the water, while towering high above the rest are seen the huge masts of Her Majesty's ship Agamemnon, moored so as to protect and command the head of the harbour and the valley. In the background the abrupt cliffs which form the sides of the basin, the one on the left crowned with the Genoese forts, meet and overlap each other,, so as to form a complete natural screen to the entrance; but still permitting a glimpse of the calm Euxine beyond, with two or three sails studding its surface in the far distance. The trees still flourishing in several parts of the town indicate the early period at which the view was taken.^prior, in fact, to
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o z both the epochs which have marked the existence of Balaklava since its occupation,— the first a time of dirt, and misery, and mud — of sickness and " confusion worse confounded "; the second, one of order and regularity, cleanHness and system, with storehouses numbered, and streets no longer nameless; and a railway, winding through the whole length of the principal thoroughfare, in its progress to Sebastopol.
PLATE IV.
THE GALE OFF THE PORT OF BALAKLAVA, 14th November, 1855.
In attempting to recall the incidents of the terrific hurricane which for three days raged with more or less fury through the length and breadth of the Black Sea, causing a vast sacrifice of human life, and an incalculable destruction of the most valuable property, it is impossible not to feel that the ordinary powers of description fail in the presence of the grandeur of the elemental strife and the colossal proportions of the catastrophe. The incidents of horror and desolation, the i-apid alternations of hope and agony, the gloomy sights and the appalling sounds, with which the genius of Byron has invested the narrative of the shipwreck of a single vessel, were here multiplied and intensified to a degree which transcends the wildest flights of fancy, and baffles the grasp of the boldest conception. Fortunately this is one of the scenes to which the pencil is more capable of doing justice than the pen, and the terrible majesty and resistless power of the mighty tempest are brought home so vividly and forcibly to the eye and to the heart, by the magnificent picture which now claims our attention, that we shall not pretend to do more than accompany it with a few brief words of elucidation and comment.
On the evening of the 13th November the barometer fell so rapidly and so low, as to presage, beyond the possibility of a doubt, the approaching storm. Warned in time, Admiral Lyons prudently steamed out to sea in the Af/amcmnon to secure a wide berth; but when, on the following morning, the strong wind arose, and rushed in its impetuous career across the sorely troubled waters of the Euxine, in search of its prey, it found a ready-prepared holocaust, such as never was offered on the altars of the most implacable of heathen deities.
Thirty transports and several ships of war lay in the ofling of the Port of Balaklava, whose narrow entrance is with difficulty made by all but the smaller craft, even in the most favourable weather, — with a precipitous and iron-bound coast on their lee, and water of immense depth up to the very rocks, whose inhospitable sides offered only the gloomy alternative of doubtful captivity to those who should escape from certain death.