There an engagement had taken place more terrible than any throughout the day. Driven to bay at the extremity of the work, the Russians had, by a series of heroic rushes, attempted to retake the fort, the veritable palladium of their city. Whilst MacMahon hastily ordered up Wimpfen's brigade, and the zouaves of the guard, in short all the reserves, the Muscovite officers sacrificed themselves one after the other in their efforts to avert a total defeat. First it was General Lisenko with a few remnants of the Warsaw, Briansk and Ieletz regiments; then General Krulov with four battalions of the Ladoga regiment, lastly General Iuverov with the same men newly led on to battle. Lisenko was mortally wounded, Krulov dangerously so, Iuverov killed. In the end the Malakov gorge was ours. The engineers began at once to put it in a state of defence: the capitulation of the little garrison of the tower, isolated in the midst of the fort, completed the victory. A supreme effort made a little later by General de Martinau with the Azov and Odessa regiments only served to demonstrate the powerlessness of our enemies to wrest the magnificent prize from us.
And magnificent it certainly was. The corpses heaped around the fortress showed plainly enough the Russians' obstinate intention to defend or re-capture it. Notwithstanding the fact that our triumph was complete the fusilade had not ceased. There were still certain volunteers risking their lives around the Mamelon, meditating some desperate stroke. "Give us cartridges," they cried: " Let someone lead us again to battle." But nearly all their officers were either dead or in the ambulances, and the remainder scarcely troubled to answer them. Not that they were indifferent to so crushing a defeat, but after such desperate fighting an immense weariness had overtaken them, and, having done all they could to avert their fate they now submitted to it impassively.
Towards four o'clock Prince Gortchakov arrived on these scenes of confusion and woe. On receiving the first intelligence of the assault he had crossed the roads and had been able to follow all the varying chances of the fight. For a long time he surveyed the Karabelnaia, as if to gauge the defensive strength of the faubourg; for a yet longer time he contemplated the Malakov, so lately the pride of the Russians and now lost to them. Neither the still hot firing which killed one of his officers at his side, nor the time which pressed availed to cut short this searching examination.
At last, judging that the town was no longer tenable he decided on consummating the sacrifice. The moment seemed to him a favourable one, for two reasons: the success gained at the Great and Little Redans &nd at the safeguarded central bastion, had established the honour of the Muscovite arms; whereas the extreme weariness of the allies guaranteed that the remainder of the day and the ensuing night would be allowed by them to pass without further offensive action. The Russian commander-in-chief therefore resolved to evacuate Sebastopol and to make all his troops cross over to the northern bank. The idea once conceived he hurried to the Nicholas battery to secure the immediate execution of his orders.
At his post of observation on the Green Mamelon, Pelissier had learnt of MacMahon's signal success, and this great advantage, somewhat counterbalanced it is true by the checks received in other engagements, filled all hearts with hope. Nevertheless, by reason of this multitude of engagements, victory appeared to be, though probable, still uncertain. Would MacMahon be able to maintain his position at the Malakov? Might not some exploding mine change the triumph into a catastrophe? Would not the defeated Russians defend themselves from behind their second enceinte, in their streets, in their houses even? And would not the battle of September 8 have a yet more bloody morrow? No answer was forthcoming to these questions, and faces that had begun to brighten grew troubled.
Things were at this stage when, towards the end of the day, General Mar- timprey turning his glasses towards the town thought he detected an unaccustomed movement on the great bridge spanning the roads. Glasses were passed from hand to hand and, despite the first shades of evening, long processions of soldiers, waggons, carriages, guns, could be distinctly seen wending their way towards the northern bank. The bridge gave under the weight, and shaken by a high wind swayed beneath the swell which from time to time submerged and almost swamped it. In spite of this hindrance the march continued, whilst ferry-boats filled with people crossed to the northern bank, and then returned empty to fetch other passengers. The rapidly falling darkness prevented further observation, but the spectators felt no doubt that they were watching the retreat of the Russians.
They had not all retreated, however. At this supreme moment Gortchakov bethought himself of Moscow. Several volunteer corps and severaldetachments of sappers and marines were left behind, not to give battle to an already victorious enemy, but to level to the ^ust the city it was no longer possible to defend. As night fell the work of devastation was begun. Powder-magazines were blown up. The cannon and siege trains that could not be removed were sunk in the bay. All that remained of the North Sea squadron was sunk; even the Empress Marie was not spared, that splendid vessel which was commanded by the glorious Nahkimov at the battle of Sinope. Only the war steamers were saved and taken across to the northern bank. The blowing up of the Paul battery completed the work of destruction. When all was finished the great bridge was broken up. Then the executors of those savage orders departed in boats for the further shore. With them went the generals who up to that moment had remained at Sebastopol to guard the retreat. Of this number was Count Osten-Sacken, governor of the
town, who was one of the last to leave, as a captain abandons his burning ship only when all the hands have left.
The explosions of that terrible night had kept the allies on the alert in their camp, and had triumphed over their immense fatigue. At daybreak on the 9th of September, Sebastopol, already nearly deserted, appeared to them as an immense heap of ruins from which shot up tongues of flame kindled by the incendiaries. For a long time French and English contemplated with a mixture of joy and horror those ruins which attested the greatness of their triumph and also the tenacity of their enemies. Beyond the roadstead, on the northern heights, appeared the Russians, vanquished but still menacing.
On the morrow, September 10th, 1855 —after 332 days of siege, three set battles, and three assaults more bloody even than the battles — Pelissier, as marshal of France, in the name of the emperor, planted his country's flag among the smoking ruins.e
4~
Prince A. M. Gortchakov (1798-1883)
With the fall of Sebastopol the war was practically at an end. Hostilities continued for some time longer, but neither side won any material advantage. The allies were not in complete accord on the question of the continuance of the war, England being inclined to push matters to a complete overthrow of Russia, while France was ready to talk about terms of peace. Lord Palmers- ton himself was a strenuous opponent of peace, and declared that Russia had not been sufficiently humbled. At this juncture Prince A. M. Gortchakov, the Russian ambassador at Vienna, taking advantage of the divided councils of the allies, urged AustrL to act as peacemaker. The emperor Francis Joseph thereupon took the occasion to press upon Russia an acceptance of the four conditions on which Turkey was prepared to make peace, backing the communication with an implied threat of war in case of denial. On January 16th, 1856, the czar, much against his will, signified his acceptance of Austrian intervention. The preliminaries of peace were signed on February 1st and on the 25th of the same month representatives of the great powers assembled at Paris to settle the details of the peace. Negotiations proceeded[1856 a.d.]