The Portland daily press., 1895-05-20
BEFORE BALAkLAYA.

You may TALK ABOUT your OrGbOdOx
ghosts who haunt ancient castles, wailing
and groaning and carrying flaming lights
from window to window for apparently no
earthly, or rather unearthly, purpose save
that of terrifying out of his wits some poor
hind bearing home bewildered brain aft
er staying too long with John Barleycorn
in the village inn, but for something that
has forever baffied me and made me often
wonder whether was dreaming or awake,
commend me to what I saw, or thought l
saw, the night before Balaklaya, Oct. 25,
1854"
And my father threw himself back in
his armchair before the fire in the smoking
room CRATE as he took long whiff of a
newly lighted cigar and gazed dreamily
into the flames that were cracking up the
chimney.
The subject of conversation had drift
ed from the battlefelds of yesterday in
Abyssinia and Zululand to those of 80
years before, when the tall, heavy forms
before us of my father and his old comrades
in arms, Sir Langley Fetherstone and
Colonel ElInhurst, with their gray bris-
tling mustaches, their still erect gait, their
unconsciously imperative style and their
solemn and grave department. were as
stones that night as we. sat around listen
ing to the stories of the hot days when our
fathers were men as young as We.
"Hand fne my memory, Aubrey" said
my father, pointing toa huge cavalry saber
that hung over the mantelpiece. The sword
that had waved over the now iron gray
head, that then was chestnut, as its own
er with shout of defiance bore down
Rho. aIr. nf Inc N hp
wintfy plains of the Crimea.
Ny father drew the sword from it's scab-
bard and lovingly surveyed the glittering
blade.
cold never failed me- d" he said. 'sDo
you see that dint in it's edge, Lang? Got
that crossing the Alma off the helmet of
Russian cuirassier. I sent the blow
through steel and skull together. There
is another. Got that the 25th of October
from the commander of the Cossaoks that
charged the left flank of the 'heayies.' He
struck at me, parried, there is the mark.
"And then?" said Sir Langley.
ttI swept it round and caught him
across the throat" answered my father alb
stractedly. "I saw his body afterward
when it was turned over to his relatives,
for he was a noble, a grand duke, I be-
his handsome features as just before my
steel entered his jugular. And here is an
other-but there! If I once got started
telling anecdotes OF every experience that
old blade went through in my hands,
would stay talking until morning. Put
it up again, Vic. I love to handle it when
ever [ settle down to tell a story of the old
days. 1t, as it were, inspires me by bring
ing back the events of bygone years to my
mind as if they had happened yesterday"
Seeing that we were all watching him
in anticipation, he again took some whiffs
of his cigar and commenced:
SIT was the night before the never to be
forgotten 25th of October. We were close
to the Russian lines, our pickets being al
most within hailing distance of the enemy.
II was riding out to inspect the sentries
stationed along the Grodno road. 1t was
a wet, cold night. and I clasped my great
coat close about me and spurred my charg
or along the muddy road. AS reached the
side of the valley drew him in quickly,
as I heard a distant rumble, like the NOV
ing of some parks of heavy ordnance at
the extreme end. ! listened. All was still
again. An occasional stray shot from the
outposts, distant challenge of sentry,
light here and there peering through the
murky mist from the doomed city, and
between it and us a large, uneven mass of
something indistinguishable that marked
out the Russian lines.
"I rode on. I arrived at the station of
the sentry, and as I did SO some smart fir
ing broke out toward the rear. Our pick
cts were evidently being driven in, and I
sent the sentry back to hasten up the sup
ports. He never returned. I subsequent
Iy heard that he had gone on with the re-
endorsements he had been sent to summon
and had been captured.
II staid, cursing his delay for over half
an hour. When I again heard the same
rumbling noise, I looked up the valley.
All was dark, but the rumble seemed to
be advancing at a terrific pace. AS it was
coming from our lines / thought it might
be q night attack. Although how cavalry
could be of any service at such an hour,
on such night. failed to see. But it is
the soldiers duty to obey first and to form
his opinions afterward, snd I eagerly
awaited the oncoming of the force.
"a white streak appeared 200 feet away,
the noise crashed upon me with full force,
and in an instant 1 saw the charging
ranks and the wild, eager forms of the SOL
diers seated on their foaming F., galloping
steeds. Forms, did L say? Yes, forms
only. Forms pale and shadowy. Horse
and man alike woven, as it were, out Of
the mist. On they came, icy breezes rush
ing with them as they swept by. MY
horse plunged and reared frantically. To
save myself from being sdismounted I
sprang from his back into the snow, and
prancing and snorting he made off toward
our'lines, giving rise to the subsequent ru-
NOR Of my death.
GAS turned I saw the form of Louis
Nolan. HewaS sitting half round in his
saddle, his sword hanging from his wrist,
his forage cap in his hand which he was
waving exultingfy. His face was partial
ly.turned from me toward the ranks, but
not word passed the open mouth with
the ashen hue on the lips, though L could
see blaze in the glistening eye. On they
came-hussars, lancers, dragoons-with
all the pemp and glory and magnificence
Of war, mingled with the mystery of the
world unknown. There rode Major Halk-
ct, his proud, handsome face set firmly
and unfiinchingly, his sword clinohed in
his hand, as it was found next day when
thoV acJH ic hodx P7ro,, ho -ad