As has been said, there was no pursuit after the battle, and the enemy was allowed to leave the field unmolested. This was the more unfortunate, since the retreat of the Russians degenerated into a rout. But worse followed, for the morning of the 23rd dawned before we stirred from the scene of our success, and two of the most valuable days of the campaign were irretrievably lost to the Allies. The fault was St. Arnaud’s, whom nothing could shake in his determination to remain where he was. Happily the strain of the alliance touched not the troops of either nation, and among them existed warm feelings of an honest _camaraderie_. Just as the First Division was about to fall in, a French brigade passed by on its southward march, and friendly expressions of mutual recognition and of good will were heard; from us, by lusty cheers and waving of bearskins and bonnets, and from them by hearty cries of “Vivent les Anglais! Vivent les Montagnards!” Leaving the Alma, the approach to Sevastopol was made by easy stages. On the 23rd a halt was called at noon on the Katcha, where we had the mortification of learning that the heavy field-pieces, which had done us so much damage on the Kurgané heights, had left but four short hours before our arrival. Next day, we reached the Belbek, thirteen miles from the late field of battle, and within striking distance of Sevastopol, the goal of our ambition. And now a strange thing happened. Far from attacking the very position we had come to assail, we even refused to make a reconnaissance to ascertain the nature of its defences, and the force and quality of the enemy holding it.