Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1855-05-02
GBoiite Stprg.
THE TWO PICTURES,
BATTLE OF INKERMAN.

day was done, should make Inkerman Sc
cond only to Waterloo. Through the foggy
drizzly dark, had burst the blasts of bugles
aud drums, and flies, and rattling musketry
and the transition from sleep to battle ha
been transient interval of CONSERVATION
not the CONSERVATION of cowardice, however
but of sudden surprise
To arms! To the summonng MARTA
music-drums, whose hurried roll, and flies
whose thrilling shrieks, make the blood bea
surge in the Yeins-to the glorious martha
music, man after man, column after column
company after company, thay wheel int,
array. Swiftly and nightly, as thougl
hurled by the power of thunder, horse ant
plun1ed rider swept over the field and along
the lines, bearing the hoarse, loud command
and quick as thought there follow charge
and evolutions, and sublime preparations TO
blood.
Oh! the battle of Inkermann would have
been a splendid sight to see in broad fielt
and bright sun. But the nature of the
day, rendered it impossible to take in more
than small scene of the grand and terrible
drama at one view. Many heroic deco
was performed that day in obscure and soil
tary places, that left no record but death
fyou found, in some gloomy glen, flusE
harvest of carnage-corpses lying thick at
sheayes after the sickles-you knew there
had been great achievements there but they
will not illume the page of history. for their
memory sleeps in the burial trenches with
those who died euacting 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 ORA.
goons; and as we have 40 interest in him
now, let us watch the performance of the
Fifth, on that duy of Inkermann.
Is 1t not they, FOUNDER on the height
Let us get nearer them for this dismal day
is so like twilight that we cannot distinguish
the figure on their buttons. Yes, it is five.
What noble fellows How proudly they
sit on their horses ysP W!h Yha ag ba Daaes9 a5 9f
din increases How their nostrils diate
with the delay of opportunity!
Which of them is Cecil Gray? Do you
see FOUNDER at the right, that tall, noble
young officer who is gazing with looks of
tenderness, upon locket min
iaturo which he has just drawn from his
bosom? That is he; and the miniature is
of-the name would choke his utterance, if
he attempted 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
ia Gods name not to go-oli, not to go!
His lip quivers: be closes the locket and
replaces it in his bosom. If he were not
agonizh,giy prayed for with her every breath,
Of whom he is now thinking we would say,
oh God! let him not sink Oh the battlefield
to-day!
The Fifth had lost most of their infantry
in the beginning Of the battle; for the Tur-
kish foot, their main support, had fled, at
the first onset and there remained to them
now only small division of Highlanders, a
number quite insufficient to sustain them.
Yet, as the cannons thundered, and the
muskets hailed the death around, the brave
fellows felt it like shame to sit there idle
while their comrades were winning glory
and every moment they grew more eager,
even without the support of infantry Tor an
occasion to act.
Hark the tramp of cavalry. Every rein
is tightened, and every horseman's breath is
quelled with expectation. Up they come at
fierce gallop, as though they meant to
sweep the height clear at single pass. II
is the Muscovities Their heavy rushing
pillows of horse, dash full upon the High.
landers, aud are shocked back by the shore
of bayonets. They rally and advance more
slowly and determinedly.
Then the buglss of the Fifth sounded
and the fiery horses are wheeled into order
for the onset.
Look at Cecil Gray he has forgotten the
miniature he has forgotten its original he
has forgotten the little cottage by the
Thames, where she is singing prayers to
Heaven for him now he thinks only of glo
ry. His breast heaves and pants, and his
hand clutches his hilt, waiting for the nex
signal twang.
Another blast of the bugles, and the whole
Fifth, instantly bristing all over with words
like single being, spring into the pas dt
charge. 4 laundering hurricane of battle
they swoop right down on the advancing
foe with the speed of the wind. God o
heaven! whut a spectacle /! With what
sublimely terrific shock the two hostile mas
ses of men and horses crash together Swore
clangs on sword; horse and rider sink; the
sea of combat surges over them.
The Fifth cut the foe through and thro'
and when their bugles sound the rally, they
regard not the signal, determined to fgh
till they clear the field or die. Horse agains
horse, with enses and repulse, Saxon ane
Cossack, they cleave one another down
.swaying to and fro Like stormy sea.
Where is Cecil Graye Yonder is hi
plume. Watch it. 1t tossss above tht
thick of the fight, as if it were alive will
glory. There, it loses itself in the smoke o
pistols. 1t emerges. We lose sig ghs OF i
again. Yonder once more it flies along th'
field, like some splendid bird of prey tha
kills its quarry, but stops not to devour
Swords leap up above and about it; othe
plumes nod and sink around IL; riderles
horses whirl away from 1t, and roll down
and surge and die in the overwhelming bill