had been inflicted upon the Russians, destroying her prestige in the East, and rendering the conclusion of Peace, at no very distant day, almost certain.

CHAPTER VII.

The Great Redan after the Assault-Danger from Magazines in Sevastopol-The Streets-The Creek Battery— The booty in the City-Story connected with Kazarski's Monument-The great Hospital and its horrors-The Queen's Message-Explore about Sevastopol-Anecdote of a French Drummer-Burning of the Steam Ships-Dangerous ground-United States Commissioners-Prospects for the Winter-Road MakingTurbaned Workmen-The Docks are mined-Drilling— Anecdote of a Scotch Captain-The Rats-Cavalry Review-Affairs at Eupatoria-Kertch-The Naval Brigade broken up-Expedition to Kilburn-Reviews of the Sardinian Army and the British Artillery-Sir James Simpson's leaves and Sir William Codrington becomes Commander-in-Chief.

"WHAT do you think of this now?" I

said to an officer whom I found, like myself, examining the Redan after the slaughtering work of the assault, and whom I had well known to have been, for some months past, quite desponding about our ultimate success, "Do you believe that Sevastopol is taken now ?"

"Yes, it is," he replied, "but I did not expect it."

Perhaps not," I said, "though it could not be doubted after the pressure that was brought against it, but the Russians held out well certainly."

What we saw at the Redan at this time was painfully interesting, most of the dead, both British and Russian had been laid in the ditch, and the earth thrown over them from the parapet, however, not sufficiently thick, as yet, to prevent the sense of smell betraying what was beneath; some Russians terribly mutilated and lying dead on stretchers, as if the time was too pressing to allow of their removal, were still unburied in rear of the parapets, and there was an

odour of blood, and marks of a desperate struggle everywhere. Guns displaced from their embrazures, fascines torn with shot, broken gabions, powder boxes strewed about, piles of balls of different sizes. In the deep casemates or chambers in which the defenders of the Redan had lived, there were furniture, clothes, bread, papers in confusion. Some of the scaling ladders had been carried into the works, and one broken one lay on the face of the salient angle, where still were scattered many of the forage caps of our poor fellows who were commencing to moulder below. On the crest of the parapet waved two British flags.

"Dies iræ, dies illa

Luce splendens et flavilla,"

was involuntarily repeated as we moved behind the massive Russian works, and saw the great excavations made by the exploded magazines, and all the dismounted guns, the earth honeycombed with shell holes; whilst

below, on the other side of the Admiralty Creek was Sevastopol burning and sending up vast pillars of smoke from several points at once. Then a magazine would blow up in some unsuspected quarter with a sudden burst of black smoke, and stones hurled into the air, whose descent was probably accompanied with wounds and death to some of the plunderers of the abandoned dwellings.

It was understood that men had been left by the Russians to blow up magazines secretly after the retreat of the army to the north side; at all events when I entered Sevastopol, and passed along the streets strewed with broken furniture with the walls and roofs of the houses on each side shattered with balls and shells, I saw Russians in their long great coats, and looking as if their last hour was come, dragged along by French soldiers, perhaps to an officer, to enquire if sentence of death should not be summarily executed on them for being found lurking about, as if for mischief.

Certainly one required to look about,