“The despatch which informed England of this dearly bought victory, commended the services of many of the living and blazoned the merits of many of the dead; but from that encomiastic scroll there was at least one remarkable omission. To the memory of Colonel Vesey Dawson, shot through the heart while in command of the Coldstream Guards, was conceded not a passing word of eulogy or of regret. It is melancholy to reflect that on this humble page should stand the only record of how as brave a soldier as ever drew a sword, as noble a gentleman as ever earned the respect of his fellow-men, fought and died.”[288] ----- Footnote 288: _Our Veterans, etc._ , p. 306. ----- We are told that this great victory caused no outward elation among our troops. A reaction succeeded the excitement of the struggle; the danger now past began to be realized for the first time; and the men, though hardened to the miserable scenes which war creates, were almost awed by the terrible carnage and devastation that met their eyes on the hard-fought field. The Second Division camp was laid flat, the tents uprooted and scattered, canvas saturated with blood carpeted the ground. Our own camp swarmed with the wounded and the dying, and the sight sent a chill of depression through the few survivors as they returned to their bivouacs. Everywhere on the narrow space of the battleground the victims lay thick, some killed, others groaning in agony, and nowhere thicker than in and around the Sandbag battery, where the contest raged the fiercest. Here the dead were literally piled up on one another as they fell. “The whole battle-field, which could all be seen at a glance, except where concealed by brushwood, looked perfectly _covered_ with bodies; between the Second Division hills and the crest of the Inkerman hill is a very short distance, and the entire action having been fought on that limited space, there was an awful scene of carnage upon it.... Before evening we got all our wounded off the field; the dead, of course, remained there, and the poor wounded Ruskis who were a great deal too numerous to take off.... From the heights I could see the Russian army winding up the road; the whole country was covered with troops straggling over the causeway over the Tchernaya marsh; they were a long time crossing. Arabas full of wounded, guns, etc., lumbering up the way, but they had quite enough of it.... Our hospital was a most piteous sight.... Our poor fellows were all dying or dead.... The camp was miserable, and I could only thank God I was not lying in the hospital tent with half my limbs smashed to pieces, or lying on a stretcher ready to be buried.”[289] ----- Footnote 289: Tower, _Diary_ . -----