4–10 December 1854

On the 5th I was in Sevastopol with a detachment of soldiers to fetch some guns. There is much that is new, and all of it satisfactory. The presence of Siken is noticeable in everything. And not so much his presence as the presence of a new Commander-in-Chief who is not yet worn out and not yet entangled in projects and expectations. As far as possible Saken rouses the troops to make sorties. (I say “ as far as possible”, for in fact no one but Menshikov could rouse them, by granting immediate rewards, which he omits to do.) Recommenda- tions which come out three months later really mean nothing to a man who is expecting death at any moment. But man is so stupidly made that while awaiting death he expects and welcomes rewards. Saken has constructed trenches in front of the Bastion. Heaven knows if this is a good plan, but it shows energy. It is said that one such trench of eight men has been captured, but what is most important is that to fetch the wounded from a trench during the day others have to risk being wounded. These trenches are not connected with the Bastions, from which they are farther off than from the enemy’s works. Sdken has introduced order into the transport of the wounded and formed ambulance stations at all the Bastions. Saken has music played. It is wonderful how beautiful Sevastopol is. Two days ago I was extremely sad. I spent two hours in the Hospital for the wounded Allies. Most of them had left the Hospital — dead or recovered, the rest were recover- ing. I found five of them round an iron stove. French, English and Russians were chatting, laughing, and play- ing cards — each speaking his own language — only the orderlies tried to make something of the foreign languages, speaking some kind of strange jargon — “ Hi ! da ! ” making signs. An Englishman exclaims : “ Ou, ou, ka, ah ! ” A Russian shouts : “ Oy ! ” and so on. When I reached the quay the sun was already setting behind the English batteries, clouds of smoke rose here and there and shots were audible. The sea was calm and on it rode many enormous ships, skiffs and ship’s boats were hurrying over the water; at the Grafski Landing a band was playing and the trumpets gave out a familiar air. Galitsyn and some other gentlemen were on the quay leaning on the rails. It was fine. Among the rumours of sallies the following is true. There have been many sallies, less sanguinary than cruel. Two of them were remarkable. One at the end of last month in which three mortars were taken (besides one that was abandoned between the Bastions and their trenches) and a wounded French officer was captured as well as many rifles. The other was one in which Lieutenant Tftov went out with two mountain “ unicorn ” guns, and fired along their trenches at night. The groans from their trench are said to have been heard as far as our Third and Fifth Bastions. It seems that I am to leave soon. I cannot say whether I wish to or not.