Archdeacon Wright told a good story of a Connaught Ranger, after the battle of the Alma. When we moved on, and came to the river Katcha, where we halted for the night, there was near our bivouac a country house, which had been deserted by its inhabitants a very short time before our arrival. The property was a valuable one, and there were extensive cellars, in which were many large casks of wine. The archdeacon was roaming among them, when all of a sudden he came on a soldier of the Connaught Rangers, who, on being discovered, began to tap the big barrels with a stick, and appeared to listen attentively to the sound he made. ‘What are you doing there, my friend?’ said the archdeacon. ‘May it plase yer riverence,’ replied the man, ‘I was looking for the well, and thought perhaps these barrels moight howld water.’ Some of the men of my company had also been looking for water, for they brought me a huge can full of the best red wine I ever tasted, and just in time; for an order was issued soon after forbidding the men to stray away from the lines of their regiments. After the flank march through the woods--a most fatiguing performance--and having come to Mackenzie Farm, and the rear of Menschikoff’s army, where his carriage was taken, in which was a drunken aide-de-camp, we continued on to Traktir Bridge, and next day advanced on Balaclava, which was easily captured. What a pretty smiling little harbour it was then! approached through vineyards laden with the most magnificent grapes. I there received an order to remain in command of some men of the 88th, who were to form part of a dépôt under command of a colonel. The dépôt consisted of men from all the regiments. At first we bivouacked in the open, but, after a little, houses were appropriated for the men, and the officers had to shift for themselves. I found a cottage, in which was rather a pretty woman in great fear and distress. It was a clean little house, and I got some one to explain to the poor woman that her things would be safe, and that she might come and take them away whenever it suited her. So she seemed quite pleased, and presented me with some hens. I do not remember how she managed to get her things removed, but she and her property disappeared, and I was left in possession. A looking-glass, which now hangs on the wall in Monreith, is the only memento I have of that small house.