Litchfield enquirer., 1855-03-22
THE TWO PICTURES.
Battle of Inkermann!

As the day came up struggling with the gloom of clouds, the vanguard had given alarm of tha. onslaught, which, before the ond only to Waterloo. Through the foggy, drizziy dark, had burst the blare of bugles, and drums, aud flies, and rattling musketry :; and the transient interval of consternation i; not the consternation of cowardice, however, but of sudden surprise.
 To arms! To the summoning martial music-drums, whose hurried roll, and flies, whose thrilling shriek. made the blood beat and surge In the veins-to the glorious mar tlal music, man after man, column after column, company after company, they wheel into array. Swiftly and nightly, as though hurled by the power of thunder, horse and pumed rider sweep over the field and along the lines. bearing the hoarse, loud command i; and quick as thought there follow charges, and evolu.ions, and sublime preparations for blood.
 0! the battle of Inkermann would have been splendid sight to see in a broad field and bright sun. But the nature of the ground and the darkness of the day rendered 1t impossible to take in more than small scene of the grand and terrible drama at one view. Many heroic deed was per- formed that day in obscure and solitary places, that left no record but death. Ii you found. in some gloomy glen. flush harvest of carnage-corpses lying thick as sheaves after the sickles-you knew there they will not illumine the pages of history !; for theirmemory sleeps in the burial trench es with those who died enac.ing them.
 Thirst of glory, such as is slaked hy blood, had iured young Cecil Gray from his happy home in old England, to the camp and ,lfe field. He was an officer in the Fifth Dra- goons; and with interest in him now, le. US watch the performance of the Fifth, on that day of Inkermann.
 Is it not they, yonderon the height! Le, us get nearer them; for this dismal day is so like twilight that We cannot distinguish the figure on their buttons. Yes, i; is Five. What noble fellows! How proudly thy si1 on their horses With what an air of i'm patience they lean forward, as the battles din increases How their nostrils dilate with the delay or opportunity!
 Which of them is Cecil Grayi Do you see, wonder al the right, that tall, noble young officer whois gazing. with looks of unspeakahle tenderness, upon docket min iature, which he has just drawn from his bosom ? Thatsis he; and the miniature is of--she name would choke his u,,erance, il he attempted to speak 1t i; for he is thinking of the time-not many months ago, but oh, how long!-when the original of that pie ture sobbed on his breast, and clung to him with love's despcrt,ion, kissing him with most passioned kisses, and pleading with him in Gods name no, to go-oh, notto %
 His lip quivers! He brushes his iiand across his eyes; he closes the locket and re- places it in hisbosom. 1.-The were moi ago nizingly prayed for with her every breath, of whom he is now thinking, we would say, o Gcd. let hi.n no, sink on the battlefield to-day. ss
 The Fifth had lost most of their infantry in the beginning of the battle; for the Turk lsh foot their main support, had fed al the first onset; and there remained to them now only a small division of the Highlanders number quite insufficient, to sustain them. Yet. as the cannons tlundcrrd and the mrs- kets hai ed the death around. the brave fell lows felt il like shame 10 sit there idle while their comrades were winning glory and every moment they grewssmore eager. even wi,hou: the support of infantry, for an occasion to act.
 Hark! the tramp of cavalry. Every rein is frightened, and every horseman's breath is qaelled with expectation. Uptl,ey come a, Eeree gailop, as though they meant tc sweep ,hauheight clear at a single passsa Ii is the Mnscovites! Their heavy. rushing hillows of horse dash full upon tss High