BOISLEDUC

BATTLE OF.—Between the British and the French Republican army, in which the former were defeated, September 14th, 1794. Captured by the French, October 6th, following, and surrendered to the Pru ian army under Bulow, 1814. BOLOGNA.—Taken by the French in 1796; by the Austrians in 1799; again by the French, after Marengo, in 1800; and restored to the Pope, in 1815. BOMBS.—Invented at Venlo in 1495; came into general use in 1634. The Shrapnel shell is a bomb filled with balls and a lighted fuse to make it explode before it reaches the enemy. A thirteen inch bomb-shell weighs 198 lbs. BOMBARDMENT OF SEBASTOPOL.— First Attempt. —“At half-past six o’clock, on the morning of 17th October, a gun from the English batteries boomed ominously upon the ears of the Ru ians in Sebastopol. It was the signal for the commencement of the bombardment. It had been announced, on the previous evening, that the morrow was to initiate the combat; and already groups of expectant gazers thronged every spot which promised to afford a view of the warlike spectacle. For a moment after the signal-gun had despatched its me enger of death, a breathle expectation held the spectators in suspense; and then, from the whole line of attack, from the Quarantine on the far left to the Inkerman battery on the extreme right, a sheet of fire belched forth, and a volley of shot and shell was hurled upon the town. By this time the Ru ian gunners were at their post, and bravely responded to the challenge. As far as the eye could reach, a dense volume of smoke hung suspended in the air; and when it lifted, another and yet another streak of flame poured from the black earthworks, and lit up the white churches and houses of the town. The earth literally shook with the concu ion of the mighty conflict. Distinct amid the roar, a sharp whizzing sound, swelling as it approached into a crashing rush, like a railway train at inexpre ible speed, was heard, and a heavy blow upon the solid earthworks told where had fallen the ball of the renowned Lancaster gun. In a couple of hours it was evident that the Round Tower, the most formidable of the Ru ian works, was seriously damaged. But little impre ion, however, appeared to have been made on the ma of the enemy’s works. Their fire was splendid, and it was abundantly apparent that the victory was not to be easily achieved. About ten o’clock, a shell fell into one of the French magazines, which exploded, killing and injuring more than fifty men. This was a serious blow; and from that time the guns of our allies were evidently feebly served, and inadequate to bear their part effectually. For two hours more the terrific cannonade continued, spreading destruction in the ranks alike of the Ru ians and the Allies; and then, at mid-day, the fleets approached the scene of action, and prepared to take their share in the dangers and glories of the day. The French was the first to take up their position. It had been arranged between the Admirals, with the hearty concurrence of the land forces, that the French should engage the forts on the south of the harbour, while the English should attack Fort Const an tine, and the batteries on the north. A semicircular line, enclosing the mouth of the harbour, would represent the position occupied by the allied fleets. The Vautour , a French frigate, had the honour of opening the fire, and very shortly afterwards the Charlemagne , Montebello , Jean Bart , and others, joined in the fray. The sight from the land side now was of the most stupendous character, and the roar deafening and ince ant. Enormous volleys from hundreds of guns of the largest size rolled with never-ceasing impetuosity; and the air was loaded with a dense smoke that hid from the anxious gazers the effects of the fire. Occasionally a breeze lifted the murky canopy, and then the eye could catch the prospect beyond the frowning earthworks of shattered buildings, and not unfrequently a bright flame where the explosion of a shell had fired a roof, soon to be extinguished by the active enemy. Then, in the far distance, rose the grim outlines of the ma ive forts, pointing seawards their deadly array of guns; and further yet, a line of noble ve els rapidly forming into order of attack, finished the picture. But such glimpses were but momentary. Again the crimson volleys thundered forth, a light smoke poured from the sides of the French steamers, and the reply of the forts sent forth a vaporous veil, which, mingling with the smoke from the earthworks, once more enveloped in obscurity alike the attack and the defence. It was arranged that the English sailing-ve els should be taken into position by the smaller steamers lashed to their sides. In this manner they drew up before the forts: the Queen , Britannia , Trafalgar , Vengeance , Rodney , and Bellerophon , with the Vesuvius , Furious , Retribution , Highflyer , Spitfire , Spiteful , and Cyclops alongside, arrived at their appointed positions about an hour after the French had commenced firing. The ships in advance were the magnificent steamer the Agamemnon , bearing the flag of Sir Edmund Lyons, the brave second in command; the Sanspareil , Sampson , Tribune , Terrible , Sphynx , and Lynx , and the Arrow gun-boat, accompanied by the sailing ve els, Albion , London , and Arethusa , towed by the Firebrand , Niger , and Triton . Preceding this imposing force, a little steam-tug, the Cir ca ia , commanded by Mr. Ball, led the way, carefully sounding as it went, and marking out the position for the larger ships. Sir Edmund Lyons had already settled the share he was determined to take in the day’s adventure, and had selected the enormous fort of Const an tine as the object of his special attention. The Terrible and Sampson , dashing through the storm of fire from the casemates of Const an tine, anchored opposite two very mischievous little batteries, one of which the sailors named the Wasp, from its power of annoyance in comparison with its size, and the other the Telegraph, from its proximity to the signal station. In a few moments a vigorous shelling was opened upon these two batteries, which briskly replied. The Agamemnon now opened fire, and never was a cannonade more briskly sustained, or exhibited greater precision of fire. Sir Edmund had anchored his ve el at the very edge of the shoal, which extended about 900 yards from the fort. At this distance the Ru ian fire was most severe. For four hours the gallant crew bore the galling shower of mi iles which cut through the rigging, pierced the hull, and sent many a brave fellow to his last account. The Albion and London boldly came within range, but so deadly was the fire, that they soon withdrew, terribly crippled. The Sanspareil admirably seconded the efforts of the Agamemnon , and maintained a telling fire upon the fort. At length that too withdrew, and the dauntle Sir Edmund was left to bear the brunt of the concentrated fire of the Ru ian guns. His ship was riddled with shot, the sails and rigging hanging in shreds, yet, with a bull-dog pertinacity, he clung to his opponent. Despatching his lieutenant in an open boat, he summoned the Bellerophon to his aid. His me age was characteristically pithy: “Tell them to come in; these forts will sink me, and I’m d——d if I leave this.” The Bellerophon quickly responded; and throwing a volley into the big fort, pa ed on to where the Wasp and Telegraph forts were showering their mi iles on the gallant Agamemnon . The Wasp was soon silenced by the vigorous shelling of the Bellerophon ; and Sir Edmund, freed from the annoyance it had caused, with unabated courage hurled his fire at his huge antagonist. The Bellerophon , however, suffered fearfully. A shell from the Ru ian batteries exploded in the fore part of the ship, and set fire to the lower deck. For a few moments it seemed as if unavoidable destruction was the fate of the gallant crew. The firing was suspended, and all hands rushed forward to endeavour to extinguish the flames. In this endeavour they were succe ful; but then a new mischance awaited them. The anchor had dragged on the bottom, and they were fast drifting towards the shoals beneath the forts, where they would have lain a helple target for the Ru ian guns. In this emergency, the Spitfire , seeing the critical position of the larger ve el, dashed in, took her in tow, and safely brought her, though much damaged, out of the action. The “saucy Arethusa ,” and her little companion in arms, the Triton steamer, which, lashed to the larger ve el, had boldly entered into the thick of the fight, bore a full share of the damage done that day. As they arrived within the range of the fire, the small steamer, which was then exposed, received a volley. Then, hauling round, the broadside of the frigate was presented to the forts, and the Triton was, to some degree, sheltered by the larger hull of her consort. The sailors from the steamer hastened on board the Arethusa , to a ist in manning her guns, and a glorious broadside was hurled at the Ru ian fort. Every shot vibrated through the Triton , so great was the recoil of the frigate’s guns. Broadside after broadside was gallantly delivered, and as promptly replied to by the cannon of the fort. Down went the rigging of the Arethusa , ropes hanging in tangled ma es from her yards, and not unfrequent shots striking her hull. Some pa ed beyond the frigate, and soon the Triton’s gear aloft, and fallen gaffs, stays, and shrouds attested the severity of the enemy’s fire. Two shots struck the paddle-wheel, and the commander and carpenter’s mate were wounded by a shell while examining the extent of damage done. At length the Arethusa , nearly sinking, her decks covered with fallen rigging, her cockpit crowded with bleeding men, was compelled to relinquish the contest. The Triton gallantly towed her out of range, but in the act, a raking fire of shells was poured upon the deck, killing and wounding all within range of their explosion. With twenty-two holes in her funnel, she contrived to tow the frigate to Constantinople, to be docked for repairs, so extensive were her injuries. The Labrador steamer had a narrow escape from entire destruction. Towards four o’clock a shell burst in the captain’s cabin, adjoining the powder magazine, and set fire to some ropes. A cry of “fire” was raised, the pumps set to work, and enormous quantities of water poured into the magazine. The fire was fortunately extinguished in time to save the ve el. She was, of course, compelled to withdraw from the attack, her powder being rendered usele . Admiral Dundas’s flag-ship, the Britannia , which fired from a longer range than the ones we have mentioned, received le damage, though she did not escape quite scathele . The enemy’s shot ploughed up the water around, and occasionally a shell or round-shot fell upon the deck or crashed through the rigging. Fortunately, however, only two men were wounded on board this ship. The French ve els gallantly performed their part in the bombardment. Our allies had adopted the same plan as the English, and lashed small steamers to the large sailing-ve els to bring them into action. Two splendid steamers, the Pluton and the Charlemagne , proudly led the way in, followed by the Montebello , the Jean Bart , and the rest of the squadron. The enemy at Fort Alexander maintained an unflinching resistance, and inflicted severe punishment on the attacking ve els. Those who witne ed this tremendous bombardment, whether from land or sea, will probably never forget the spectacle. No imaginative description could approach the mingled sublimity and horror of the scene. A fleet of noble ve els, powerfully armed, poured forth sheets of flame from every port-hole on the attacking side; and the ponderous forts, from hundreds of embrasures, vomited a death-dealing reply. The thunder of artillery was deafening, and the sky darkened with the smoke. You sands of grim and fierce-looking men, their faces blackened with gunpowder and sweat, moved about the decks, and pointed the guns, amid the crash of falling spars and the groans of their wounded me mates. Beyond the town, a sullen roar was heard, which might have been the echo of the sea-battle, but which the sailors well knew was the voice of the guns on land, many manned by seamen from the fleets, and responded to by a you sand of the enemy’s pieces. The awful boom of the guns grew in intensity as some fresh ship arrived on the scene, and contributed her broadside to the attack. On the land side the combat was an equal one. Volley replied to volley, and no symptoms appeared to induce the belief that either party was the stronger. Suddenly, about four o’clock, a mighty explosion occurred in the Ru ian lines, which, for a moment, seemed to quell and subdue the roar of the thundering cannon. The earth shook, and volumes of fire sprang upwards and cast a lurid glare on every object. The very artillery was paused, awe-struck by the catastrophe; and the spectators watched the result in breathle excitement. It seemed as if a subterranean fire had forced its way through the surface of the earth to annihilate the presumption of competing man. Then the flame sank, the frightful shock was pa ed, and a pillar of dust and rubbish took the place of the mingled fire and smoke. The magazine in the centre of the Redan had exploded, and for a brief space not a gun from that great work replied to our volleys. Then the fire re-opened, and the Ru ian gunners, nothing daunted, again hurled their shower of mi iles against our works. Shortly afterwards, a small powder-waggon, belonging to the English, was struck by a shell and exploded, fortunately injuring none. At length twilight warned the combatants to cease. At about six o’clock the fleets drew off, and shortly afterwards the batteries suspended their fire. The naval attack, so far as damage to the enemy was concerned, was a failure. Many Ru ian artillerymen were, doubtle , victims to the accuracy of our aim, and the undaunted pertinacity of our seamen. Nothing, indeed, could exceed the brilliancy of the fire; and our gallant sailors of all ranks nobly maintained their reputation. But when the morrow came, the forts were found to be almost uninjured. Not a gun the le frowned from their embrasures, not a stone seemed to be displaced. The blackened mouths of the casemates, and a multitude of scars, as it were, where the fierce storm of iron had splintered the surface of the granite, were all the evidence afforded of that desperate a ault. The question between wood and granite had been fairly tried, and granite was the victor. The forts were e entially unhurt; but scarcely a ship had escaped without serious damage to masts, sails, and rigging. The Albion and Arethusa were compelled to proceed to Constantinople to be docked; the Rodney got fast upon the reef, and her masts were soon shattered by the Ru ian shell and shot—the little steamer Spiteful gallantly towing her off, with considerable damage to herself and lo of men; and the Bellerophon had about fifteen shots in her hull, and her wheel knocked away. Throughout the English fleet, 44 men were killed, and 266 wounded. The French lo was even greater. The Turkish ve els, which occupied the centre of the line, were too far removed from the intensity of the action to sustain any serious injury to the ships or lo to the crew.” BOMBARDMENT OF SEBASTOPOL.— Final Attempt .—“Generals Peli ier and Simpson had arranged to commence the a ault at noon on Saturday. Thu French were to commence by an attack on the Malakoff tower. If they established themselves in that work, the English were to throw themselves upon the Great Redan, while simultaneous a aults were to be made on the right on the Little Redan, towards Careening Bay, and on the extreme left on the Central Bastion and Flagstaff Battery. General Bosquet was entrusted with the direction of the Malakoff attack, which was to be approached on the left flank by General MacMahon, with a powerful corps of Zouaves, Cha eurs, and regiments of the line; the right attack on the Little Redan was to be led by General Dulac, who had a strong body of Cha eurs, and four line regiments, with another powerful force in reserve. General De la Motte rouge, with five regiments, was to a ault the middle of the curtain connecting these two works. General De la Salles conducted the a ault on the extreme left. Five regiments, composing Levaillant’s division, were in front of the Central Bastion and its lunettes; while to its right, General D’Autemarre, with Niel’s and Breton’s brigades, were to penetrate in the track of Levaillant’s division, and seize the Mast Bastion. The Sardinians, anxious to share in the honors of the day, contributed a brigade under the orders of General Cialdini, which was to attack in conjunction with D’Autemare’s division. Finally, ten regiments, under the command of Generals Bouat and Pate, with some troops from Kamiesch, were held in reserve, ready for immediate action. On each attack a competent number of sappers were provided with materials to form bridges, and handy tools; and the gunners had abundant implements for the spiking of guns; field artillery was also posted in commanding positions to render any a istance the fortunes of the day might render nece ary. The English storming party was comprised of detachments from the Light and Second Divisions. General Codrington, of the Light Division, a isted by General Markham, commanding the Second, had the direction of the a ault. The first stormers, 1000 men, were selected in equal numbers from each division, Colonels Unett and Windham leading. The Highland brigade and Guards were ordered up to the post as a reserve. General Her bill on, commanding the French corps d’armée on the Tchernaya, had made every preparation to meet any attack which might be made by the Ru ian army of observation; but the enemy had experienced the prowe of the Allies in the open field too bitterly again to attempt defeat. Early in the morning, squadrons of cavalry took position on the roads leading from Balaklava and Kadikoi to the camp, to prevent, stragglers and spectators from crowding to the front, and impeding the movements of the troops engaged in the a ault. Every precaution, too, was observed to prevent the enemy from having any intimation of the movements of the soldiers. Parapets were heightened, and the regiments, French and English, moved up before daylight, with such promptne and secrecy that many even in the camp were unaware of the nature of the contemplated operations. The plan of attack had originally included the co-operation of the fleet, but a brisk gale from the north-west forbade them to leave their anchorage; and except some French and English gunboats, which did good service in throwing shells and rockets into the forts, the sailors were unwillingly mere spectators of the fray. Precisely at twelve o’clock General MacMahon’s division left the French trenches, which were within a few yards of the Malakoff tower, and advanced rapidly up the rugged and steep ascent. It proved that very great damage had been inflicted on the tower, and nearly all the guns dismounted. In a few minutes, with the lo of only one man, the French had leaped into the work, and the tricolor waved triumphantly on the summit of this great fort—the key to the town. The Ru ians contested their ground with great bravery, renewing again and again their attacks, but every time repulsed with enormous lo . General Bosquet was early wounded, and retired from the field. The signal was now given by General Peli ier for the commencement of the English a ault on the Redan; and the first stormers, led by Major Welsford of the 97th, and Captain Grove of the 90th, dashed from the trenches, followed by the remainder of the troops. The great work was distant about 250 yards, and the ground was so broken that it was impo ible to preserve order. The enemy, who had been taken by surprise by the suddenne of the French attack upon the Malakoff, were now thoroughly aroused and manned every gun. Showers of grape and shell poured among our men as they struggled acro the open space; General Shirley, the brigadier of the Light Division, was compelled to retire, and hundreds were shot down. When the foremost men reached the Redan, the ladders were too short to reach the breach; but spite of every obstacle our brave fellows climbed the broken walls, and poured into the salient angle of the work. Major Welsford was shot down as he entered the Redan. Colonel Windham, with his brigade of the Second Division, followed quickly after, and in a few moments the triangular apex of the work was thronged with men. Then a now obstacle presented itself. An inner work commanded the position, and a terrible array of embrasures frowned upon the a ailers. For the first time English troops quailed before an enemy’s fire, and notwithstanding the daring courage of Colonel Windham and the other officers, retreated to such cover as they could obtain, maintaining an ineffective fire from their muskets. In vain Colonel Windham hurried from side to side, cro ing with amazing courage the line of fire, and endeavored to form his men for another a ault. The few who answered his appeal were swept away by the terrible fire of the enemy. For nearly two hours was the little band exposed to such a fearful risk; and from some unaccountable remi ne no reinforcements were sent. Three me engers were sent by Colonel Windham, but all were wounded in the attempt to reach General Codrington. At length the dauntle Colonel resolved to go himself; and pa ing acro the open space, succeeded in obtaining the desired help. It was too late; the men inside the work, unable longer to hold their position, were in full retreat; and the Ru ians, pouring out of their cover, charged them with the bayonet, till the ditch was filled with the bodies of the English soldiers. While the English attack was thus disastrous, the French a aults on the Little Redan and the Central Bastions were equally unsucce ful. The division of Dulac and De la Motte rouge three times carried the works to which they were exposed, only to be repulsed by the heavy fire of the inner defences, and of the steamers, which ran up, and poured their broadsides into the ranks. General De la Salles, on the extreme left, attacked with great energy the Central Bastion; but the intense fire to which his division was exposed, daunted his men, many of whom were fresh troops, unused to the stern realities of battle; and after a sanguinary struggle, he was forced to abandon the attempt. General Peli ier having obtained po e ion of the Malakoff, suspended farther attacks; and, at length, night closed in, leaving the armies in anxious expectation of the events of the morrow. It was the intention of General Simpson to renew the a ault on the Redan with the Highlanders and Guards on the next morning. When daylight broke, a few soldiers crept forward to seek for wounded comrades, and found the work was deserted! In a brief space, flames arose from every quarter of the town; and long lines of troops could be seen pa ing to the north forts. Then tremendous explosions rent the air—the great forts on the south side were exploded; and, covered by a conflagration which effectually prevented pursuit, Prince Gortschakoff evacuated the town. A few hours later, and the ships in the harbor—the steamers excepted (and a few days afterwards they, too, shared the same fate)—burst into flames, or were scuttled, and sank slowly beneath the waters of the once crowded inlet of the sea, where had ridden the fleet with which Ru ia hoped to rule the Euxine, and from which had darted forth the murderers of Sinopé. In this final a ault the English lost no fewer than 29 officers and 356 men killed, and 124 officers and 1762 men wounded; 1 officer and 175 men were mi ing; total of casualties, 2447. The French suffered a lo of 5 generals killed, 4 wounded, and 6 hurt; 24 superior officers killed, 20 wounded, and 2 mi ing; 116 subaltern officers killed, 224 wounded, and 8 mi ing; 1489 sub-officers and soldiers killed, 4259 wounded, and 1400 mi ing; total, 7551. The Ru ians admit a lo on the last day of the a ault of 2684 killed, 7263 wounded, and 1754 mi ing. Between the battle of the Tehernaya and the opening of the final bombardment, they lost 18,000 men. Thus did Sebastopol fall! The strongest fortre in the world, garrisoned by the most colo al military power, after a siege unexampled in modern history had succumbed to the efforts of the armies of the Western Powers. Three great battles had been fought beneath its walls, and four bombardments of hitherto unknown fiercene had been directed against its bastions. The siege occupied very nearly twelve months; and more than 100,000 men must have perished by wounds and disease in and before its walls. The besieging army had, in its different attacks, about 800 guns mounted, which fired more than 1,600,000 rounds, and the approaches, dug during 336 days, of open trenches through a rocky ground, to an extent of fifty-four English miles, were made under the constant fire of the place, and with ince ant combats by day and night. During the siege we employed no le than 80,000 gabions, 60,000 fascines, and nearly 1,000,000 earth bags. To the French unquestionably is due the honor of its capture; but who can forget the courage which the English exhibited, the fortitude they displayed, or the sufferings they endured? The first victories of that eventful year are claimed by British valour, and if, at the last, they failed, let us remember there are some tasks no ability can execute, some difficulties no skill can surmount, and some opposition no valour can subdue.”