As evening closed in, heavy clouds came up from the sea,
and it rained in torrents all night.
A miserable night it was! The whole army lay exposed to the fury of
the elements on the bleak hillside, drenched to the skin, in pools and
watercourses, under saturated blankets, without fuel, or the chance of
lighting a bivouac fire. It was the same for all; the generals of
division, high staff-officers, colonels, captains, and private men.
The first night on Crimean soil was no bad precursor of the dreadful
winter still to come.
Next day the prospect brightened a little. The sun came out and dried
damp clothes; tents were landed, only to be re-embarked when the army
commenced its march. This was on the third day after disembarkation,
when, with all the pomp and circumstance of a parade movement, the
allied generals advanced southward along the coast. They were in
search of an enemy which had shown a strange reluctance to come to
blows, and had already missed a splendid opportunity of interfering
with the landing.
The place of honour in the order of march was assigned to the English,
who were on the left, with that flank unprotected and "in the air"; on
their right marched the French; on whose right, again, the Turks; then
came the sea. Moving parallel with the land-forces, the allied fleets
held undisputed dominion of the waters.
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