Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-04-25
Gtoite Gitekature.
THETWO PICT ES.
BY COATES-KINNEY.
RATTLE OF INKERNiANN

AS the day came up struggling with the t
gloom Of clouds, the vanguard had given Z
alarm of that onslaught, which before the G
day was done, should make Inkermann
second only to Waterloo. Through tie G
'foggy drizzly dark, had burst the blasts of I
bugles, and drums, and flies, and rattling i
musketry and the transition from sleep to
battle had been transient interval of cons {
formation: not the CONSERVATION of coward {
ice, however, but of sudden surprise. II
To arms! To the summoning martial
mnsic-drums, whose hurried roll, and flies,
whose thrilling shrieks, make the blood beat
surge in the veins-to the glorious martial
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
plumed rider swept over the field and along
the lines, bearing the hoarse, loud command
and quick as thought there follow charges
and evolutions, and sublime preparations
for blood
Oh the battle of Inkermann would have
been splendid sight to see in broad field
and bright sun. But the nature Of the
ground and the darkness of the day,render-
ed it impossible to take in more than small
scene Of the grand and terrible drama at one
view. Many heroic deed was performed
that day in obscure and solitary places, that
left no record but death. If YOU found, in
some gloomy glen, flush harvest of carnage
I-corpses lying thick as sheaves after the
sickles-you knew there had been great
achievements there : but they will not illume
| tho &c hi.ton., Co. th,i. eli
in the burial trenches with those who died
enacting them.
Thirst of glory, such as is slaked by blood,
had lured young Cecil Gray from his happy
home in old England, to the camp and the
field. He was AN officer in the fifth Dra
goons; and as we have an interest in him
now, let us watch the performance of the
Fifth, on that day of Inkermann.
Is it not they, yonder on the height ?
Let us get nearer them; for this dismal day
is SO like twilight that we cannot distinguish
the figure on their buttors. Yes, it is five.
What noble fellows How proudly they sit
on their horses With what an air of impa-
tience they lean forward, as the battles din
increases How their nostrls dilate with
the delay of opportunity
Which Of them is Cecil Gray? Do you
see yonder at the right, that tall, noble young
officer who is gazing with looks of unspeak-
able tenderness, upon a locket miniature
which he has just drawn from his bosom p
That is he and the miniature is of-the
name would choke his utterance. if he at
tempted to speak it; for he is thinking Of
the time-not many months ago, but oh
how long when the original of that picture
sobbed on his breast, and clung to him with
loves desperation, kissing him with the
most impassioned kisses, and pleading with
him in Gods name not to go-oh, not tc
go!
His lip quivers he closes the locket anc
replaces it in his bosom. IF he were no
agonizingly prayed for with her every breath
of whom he is now thinking, we would say
oh God let him not sink on the battle fell
to-day
, The Fifth had lost most of their infantr
in the beginning Of the battle; for the Turk
: ish foot, their main support, had fed, at tn
, first onset; and there remained to them no,
; only a small division Of the Highlanders,
: number quite insufficient to sustain them.-
Yet as the cannons thundered, and the mu,
= kets hailed the death around, the brave fel
i lows felt it like shame to sit there id
. while their comrades were winning glory
q and every moment they grew more cage
q even without the support Of infantry, for a
% occasion to act.
+ Hark! the tramp Of cavalry. Every re
= is frightened, and every horseman's breath
% quelled with expectation. Up they con
,e at fierce gallop, as though they meant
h. sweep the height clear at single pass.
: is the Muscovites! Their heavy rushir
1s pillows of horse, dash full upon the Hig
~ landers, and are shocked back bv the sho
N of bayonets. They rally, and advance mo
10 10 slowly and determinedIy.
Then the bugles ofthe Fifth sounded, a
mr. the fiery horses are wheeled into order
- the onset
,;s Look at Cecil Gray he has forgotten /
.nI miniature he has forgotten its original;
- has forgotten the little cottage by I
ID Thames, where she is singing prayers
,o Heaven for him now he thinks only
= glory. His breast heaves and pants, and
b;s hand clutches his hilt; waiting for the n
~ signal twang.
N. Another blast of the bugles, and the WI
w. Fifth, instantly brlsting all over with swo
nds like single being. spring into the pas
be charge. A laundering hurricane Of bal
do they swoop right down on the advancing
Il with the speed of the lind. God of heav
of what spectacle With what sublin
hat terrific shock the two hostile masses of I
nd. and horses crash together! Sword cls
,ros on sword; horse and rider sink the sea
tor combat surges over them.
The Fifth cut the foe through and thror
Of and when their bugles sound the rally,
i as disregard the signal, determined to fight
br;s- they clear the field or die. Horse ag
nor. horse, with onset and repulse Saxon
her Cossack, they cleave one another down, s
ing to and fro like a stormy sea.
: Of Where is Cecil Gray?' Yonder is
but plume. Watch it. 1t tosses above the thi
AIKEN of the fight, as if it were alive with gloi
ol Of There, i: loses itself in the smoke of pi
er so 1t emerges. We lose sight oft again.
RS Of der once more it HES along the field,
with some splendid bird of prey that XIII
inner quarry, but stops not to devour. 81
leap up above and aoout it plumes no,
Y. sink around it riderless horses whit