A short walk along the rising ground brought us to all that is now left of the Malakoff. There are two ditches round it, but neither of them is as deep as that which surrounds the Redan. The fort itself, however, is very much larger, and in the centre are the ruins of a low, flat tower. It was originally bomb-proof, but the French blew it up when they obtained possession, and now barely half of the building remains standing. The Malakoff so completely overlooks and commands the town that even the non-combatant can perceive how useless must have been any attempt to hold Sevastopol when once this, the key as it were to the position, was in possession of the allies. Those who held the Malakoff and the Redan had virtually Sevastopol, for shot and shell from these forts could be poured like hail into the devoted town. These two great outposts lost by the Russians, all further struggle on their part must have been hopeless. Count K---- tells us that in fact Prince Menschikoff had resolved to evacuate the town, and retire to the north side, when the Quarries and the Mamelon had fallen into the hands of the allies; and he would have done so before the attack on the Malakoff was made, but for positive orders from St. Petersburg to hold the town as long as possible. As far as we could judge, the general opinion amongst the Russian officers was that the chief error Russia committed was in allowing the allies to land undisturbed. Probably subsequent events confirmed their views, but all seemed to think, had the French and English met with a vigorous resistance when they disembarked, Sevastopol would never have been invested. Unhappily for them, the higher authorities at St. Petersburg were so firmly convinced that Sevastopol and her forts were impregnable, that it was hoped, could the allies be led on to make an attack upon the outworks, that not only would they be repulsed, but that the annihilation of the whole invading army would be the necessary consequence. Those generals who knew the place, and who had some doubts as to the "impossibility" of taking it from the land side, were not listened to. Any attack from the sea must have been in vain. Notwithstanding the kindness of our friends--notwithstanding the fineness of the weather (for we had but few rainy days during the many weeks we passed at Sevastopol), we longed to leave the place. Words cannot adequately express the profound gloom and depression that weigh down the spirits after any lengthened residence in the town of death. At first, the great interest of seeing a place become so famous in history, the excitement of visiting spot after spot renowned for deeds of chivalrous daring unequalled in modern times, support the mind; but, after a time, the one story told by every house, by every field, by every grave--of untimely death, of man's love of destruction, and of man's lust for blood--oppresses the heart with a weight of sadness that becomes almost unendurable.