This was fair and lawful plunder, and the troops were halted and allowed to take what they liked and what they could carry. The officers presided over it to see that there was no quarrelling. Immense quantities of wearing apparel, dressing-cases, valuable ornaments, and jewellery were found in the carts. A Russian artillery officer, found in one of the carriages, was in a very jovial mood, beside an empty champagne bottle. Fine winter cloaks, lined with fur, were found in abundance. This plunder put our soldiers in great good-humour, and they marched on the whole day in excellent spirits. As the baggage was some miles behind, Lord Raglan had to put up in a miserable little lodge, while his staff slept on the ground in a ditch outside. Not the smallest attempt was made by the enemy to annoy the English during this march to Balaklava; but we could have been greatly harassed by the smallest activity on their part. The march lay through woods, along bad and often precipitous roads, and a few trees felled at intervals could have stopped our army for hours. We had, it seems, taken the Russians by surprise, and they showed themselves quite destitute of resources. “_Balaklava, September 24._--I never was more astonished in my life,” writes Sir W. Russell, “than when I halted on the top of one of the numerous hills of which this part of the Crimea is composed, and looking far down, saw under my feet a little pond, closely shut in by the sides of high, rocky mountains. On this pond floated six or seven English ships, for which exit seemed quite hopeless. The bay is like a highland tarn. It is long ere the eye admits that it is some half-mile in length from the sea, and varies from 250 to 120 yards in breadth. The shores are so steep and precipitous that they shut out the expanse of the harbour, and make it appear much smaller than it really is. “Towards the sea the cliffs close up and completely overlap the narrow channel which leads to the haven, so that it is quite invisible. “On the south-east of the poor village which straggles between the base of the rocky hills and the margin of the sea there are extensive ruins of a Genoese fort, built some 200 feet above the level of the sea, all crumbling in decay--bastion and tower and wall. A narrow defile leads to the town. A few resolute men posted here might have given great trouble to a large army.” The staff advanced first on the town, and were proceeding to enter it, when, to their surprise, from some old forts above came four spirts of smoke, and down came four shells close to them. The dose of shell was repeated; but by this time the _Agamemnon_ outside the rocks was heard busily sending her shot against the fort. After a few rounds the fort was summoned, hung out a flag of truce, and surrendered. There were only sixty men--all made prisoners.