Part 30

The British troops on or near the ground were the 2nd Division, 3000, encamped on the ridge; Codrington's brigade of the Light Division, 1400, on the slopes west of the Careenage Ravine; and the Guards' brigade, 1350, about ¾ m. in rear of the 2nd Division camp. No other forces, French or British, were within 2 m. except another part of Sir George Brown's Light Division. A mist overhung the field and the hillsides were slippery with mud. Soimonov, with his whole force deployed in a normal attack formation (three lines of battalion columns covered by a few hundred skirmishers) pushed forward along the ridge (6 A.M.) without waiting for Pavlov or for Dannenberg, the officer appointed to command the whole force. Shell Hill, guarded only by a picquet, was seized at once. The heavy guns that had been brought from the fortress were placed in position on this hill, and opened fire (7 A.M.) on the knoll, 1400 yds. to the S., behind which the 2nd Division was encamped. The Russian infantry halted for the guns to prepare the way, and the heavy projectiles both swept the crest of the British knoll and destroyed the camp in rear. But already General Pennefather, commanding the division, had pushed forward one body of his infantry after another down the forward slope, near the foot of which they encountered the Russians in great force. On his side, Soimonov had been compelled to break up his regular lines of columns at the narrowest part of the ridge and to push his battalions forward a few at a time. This and the broken character of the ground made the battle even in the beginning a mêlée. The obscurity of the mist, which had at first allowed the big battalions to approach unobserved, now favoured the weaker side. Soimonov himself, however, formed up some 9000 men, who drove back the British left wing--for the whole of Pennefather's force at the time was no more than 3600 men. But the right wing, not as yet attacked, either by Soimonov or by Pavlov, held on to its positions on the forward slope, and a column of Russian sailors and marines, who had been placed under Soimonov's command and had moved up the Careenage Ravine to turn the British left, were caught, just as they emerged on to the plateau in rear of Pennefather's line, between two bodies of British troops hurrying to the scene of action. On the front, too, the Russian attack came to a standstill and ebbed, for Soimonov's overcrowded battalions jostled one another and dissolved on the narrow and broken plateau. Soimonov himself was killed, and the disciplined confidence and steady volleys of the defenders dominated the chaotic _élan_ of the Russians. Thus 3300 defenders were able to repulse and even to "expunge from the battlefield" the whole of the Sevastopol column, except that portion of it which drifted away to its left and joined Pavlov. This stage of the battle had lasted about forty minutes. But, brilliant as was this overture, it is the second stage of the battle that gives it its epic interest.

The first attack made by Pavlov's advanced guard, aided by parts of Soimonov's corps, was relatively slight, but General Dannenberg now arrived on the field, and arranged for an assault on the British centre and right, to be delivered by 10,000 men (half his intact forces) chiefly by way of the Quarry Ravine, the attack to be prepared by the guns on Shell Hill. Pennefather had been reinforced by the Guards' brigade and a few smaller units. Not the least extraordinary feature of the battle that followed is the part played by a sangar of stones at the head of Quarry Ravine and a small battery, called the Sandbag Battery, made as a temporary emplacement for two heavy guns a few days before. The guns had done their work and been sent back whence they came. Nevertheless these two insignificant works, as points to hold and lines to defend on an otherwise featureless battlefield, became the centres of gravity of the battle.

The sangar at first fell into the hands of the Russians, but they were soon ejected, and small British detachments reoccupied and held it, while the various Russian attacks flowed up and past it and ebbed back into the Quarry Ravine. Possession of the Sandbag Battery was far more fiercely contested. The right wing was defended by some 700 men of the 2nd Division, who were reinforced by 1300 of the Guards. The line of defence adjacent to the battery looked downhill for about 300 yds., giving a clear field of fire for the new Enfield rifle the English carried; but a sharp break in the slope beyond that range gave the assailants plenty of "dead ground" on which to form up. For a time, therefore, the battle was a series of attacks, delivered with great fierceness by the main body of Pavlov's corps, the repulse of each being followed by the disappearance of the assailants. But the arrival of part of the British 4th Division under Sir George Cathcart gave the impulse for a counter-attack. Most of the division indeed had to be used to patch up the weaker parts of the line, but Cathcart himself with about 400 men worked his way along the lower and steeper part of the eastern slope so as to take the assailants of the battery in flank. He had not proceeded far, however, when a body of Russians moving higher up descended upon the small British corps and scattered it, Cathcart himself being killed. Other counterstrokes that his arrival had inspired were at the same time made from different parts of the defensive front, and had the effect of breaking up what was a solid line into a number of disconnected bands, each fighting for its life in the midst of the enemy. The crest of the position was laid open and parts of the Russian right wing seized it. But they were flung back to the lower slopes of the Quarry Ravine by the leading French regiment sent by Bosquet. This regiment was quickly followed by others. The last great assault was delivered with more precision, if with less fury than the others, and had Dannenberg chosen to employ the 9000 bayonets of his reserve, who stood idle throughout the day, to support the 6000 half-spent troops who made the attack, it would probably have been successful.

As it was, supported by the heavy guns on Shell Hill, the assailants, though no longer more than slightly superior in numbers, carried not only the sangar, but part of the crest line of the allied position. But they were driven back into the Quarry Ravine, and, relieving the exhausted British, the French took up the defence along the edge of the ravine, which, though still not without severe fighting, they maintained till the close of the battle. Inkerman, however, was not a drawn battle. The allied field artillery, reinforced by two long 18-pr. guns of the British siege train and assisted by the bold advance of two French horse-artillery batteries which galloped down the forward slope and engaged the Russians at close range, gained the upper hand. Last of all, the dominant guns on Shell Hill thus silenced, the resolute advance of a handful of British infantry decided the day, and the Russians retreated. The final shots were fired about 1.30 P.M.

The total British force engaged was 8500, of whom 2357 were killed and wounded. The French lost 939 out of about 7000 who came on to the field, though not all these were engaged. The Russians are said to have lost 11,000 out of about 42,000 present. The percentage (27.7) of loss sustained by the British is sufficient evidence of the intensity of the conflict, and provides a convincing answer to certain writers who have represented the battle as chiefly a French affair. On the other hand, the reproaches addressed by some British writers to General Bosquet for not promptly supporting the troops at Inkerman with his whole strength are equally unjustifiable, for apparently Sir George Brown and Sir George Cathcart both declined his first offers of support, and he had Prince Gorchakov with at least 20,000 Russians in his own immediate front. He would therefore have risked the failure of his own mission in order to take part in a battle where his intervention was not, so far as he could tell, of vital importance. When Lord Raglan definitely asked him for support, he gave it willingly and eagerly, sending his troops up at the double, and it must be remembered that several British divisions took no part in the

## action for the same reason that actuated Bosquet. But, in spite of the

seemingly inevitable controversies attendant on an "allied" battle, it is now generally admitted that, as a "soldiers' battle," Inkerman is scarcely to be surpassed in modern history.

INLAYING, a method of ornamentation, by incrusting or otherwise inserting in one material a substance or substances differing therefrom in colour or nature. The art is practised in the fabrication of furniture and artistic objects in all varieties of wood, metal, shell, ivory and coloured, and hard stone, and in compound substances; and the combinations, styles and varieties of effect are exceedingly numerous. Several special classes of inlaying may be here enumerated and defined, details regarding most of which will be found under their separate headings. In the ornamental treatment of metal surfaces _Niello_ decoration, applied to silver and gold, is an ancient and much-practised species of inlaying. It consists in filling up engraved designs with a composition of silver, copper, lead and sulphur incorporated by heat. The composition is black, and the finished work has the appearance of a drawing in black on a metallic plate. An art, analogous in effect, called _bidri_, from Bider in the Deccan, is practised in India. In bidri work the ground is an alloy of zinc, with small proportions of copper and lead, in which shallow patterns and devices are traced, and filled up with thin plates of silver. When the surface has been evened and smoothed, the bidri ground is stained a permanent black by a paste the chief ingredients of which are sal-ammoniac and nitre, leaving a pleasing contrast of bright metallic silver in a dead black ground. The inlaying of gold wire in iron or steel is known as Damascening (q.v.). It has been very largely practised in Persia and India for the ornamentation of arms and armour, being known in the latter country as Kuft work or Kuftgari. In Kashmir, vessels of copper and brass are very effectively inlaid with tin--an art which, like many other decorative arts, appears to have originated in Persia. In the ornamental inlaying of metal surfaces the Japanese display the most extraordinary skill and perfection of workmanship. In the inlaying of their fine bronzes they use principally gold and silver, but for large articles and also for common cast hollow ware commoner metals and alloys are employed. In inlaying bronzes they generally hollow out and somewhat undercut the design, into which the ornamenting metal, usually in the form of wire, is laid and hammered over. Frequently the lacquer work of the Japanese is inlaid with mother-of-pearl and other substances, in the same manner as is practised in ornamenting lacquered papier-mâché among Western communities. The Japanese also practise the various methods of inlaying referred to under DAMASCENING. The term _Mosaic_ (q.v.) is generally applied to inlaid work in hard stones, marble and glass, but the most important class of mosaics--those which consist of innumerable small separate pieces--do not properly come under the head of inlaying. Inlaid mosaics are those in which coloured designs are inserted in spaces cut in a solid ground or basis, such as the modern Florentine mosaic, which consists of thin veneers of precious coloured stones set in slabs of marble. The Taj Mahal at Agra is an example of inlaid mosaic in white marble, and the art, carried to that city by a French artist, is still practised by native workmen. _Pietra dura_ is a fine variety of inlaid mosaic in which hard and expensive stones--agate, cornelian, amethyst and the like--are used in relief. Certain kinds of enamel might also be included among the varieties of inlaying. (See also MARQUETRY and BOMBAY FURNITURE.)

INMAN, HENRY (1801-1846), American artist, was born in Utica, New York, on the 20th of October 1801. Apprenticed to the painter John W. Jarvis at the age of fourteen, he left him after seven years and set up for himself, painting portraits, genre and landscape. He was one of the organizers of the National Academy of Design in New York and its first vice-president (from 1826 until 1832). As a portrait painter he was highly successful both in New York and Philadelphia, and going to England in 1844, he had for sitters the Lord Chancellor (Cottenham), the poet Wordsworth, Doctor Chalmers, Lord Macaulay and others. His American sitters included President Van Buren and Chief Justice Marshall. He died in New York City on the 17th of January 1846.

INN, a river of Europe, an important right bank tributary of the Danube. It rises at an elevation of 7800 ft., in a small lake under the Piz Longhino, in the Swiss canton of the Grisons. After flowing for a distance of 55 m., through the Engadine it leaves Swiss territory at Martinsbruck and enters Austria. It next plunges through the deep ravine of Finstermünz, and, continuing in the main a north-easterly direction, receives at Landeck the Rosanna. Hence its course becomes more rapid, until, after swirling through the narrow and romantic Oberinnthal, it enters the broader and pastoral Unterinnthal. It next passes Innsbruck and from Hall, a few miles lower down, begins to be navigable for barges. At Kufstein, down to which point it has still pursued a north-easterly direction, it breaks through the north Tirol limestone formation, and, now keeping a northerly course, enters at Rosenheim the Bavarian high plateau. Its bed is now broad, studded with islands and enclosed by high banks. Its chief tributaries on this last portion of its course are the Alz and the Salzach, and at Passau, 309 m. from its source, it joins the Danube, which river down to that point it equals in length and far exceeds in volume of water. Its rapid current does not permit of extensive navigation, but timber rafts are floated down from above Innsbruck.

See Greinz, _Eine Wanderung durch das Unterinntal_ (Stuttgart, 1902).

INN and INNKEEPER. An inn is a house where travellers are fed and lodged for reward. A distinction has been drawn between tavern, inn and hotel, the tavern supplying food and drink, the hotel lodging, the inn both; but this is fanciful. "Hotel" now means "inn," and "inn" is often applied to a mere public-house, whilst "tavern" is less used. "Inn," still the legal and best, as it is the oldest, is a form of the word "in" or "within." This sense is retained in the case of the English legal societies still known as INNS OF COURT (q.v.). In the Bible "inn" means "lodging-place for the night." Hospitality has always been a sacred duty in the East. The pilgrim or the traveller claims it as a right. But some routes were crowded, as that from Bagdad to Babylon. On these, _khans_ (in or near a town) and _caravanserais_ (in waste places) were erected at the expense of the benevolent. They consisted of a square building surrounded by a high wall; on the roof there was a terrace and over the gateway a tower; inside, was a large court surrounded by compartments in which was some rude provision for the animals and baggage of the traveller as well as for himself. The latter purchased his own food where he chose, and had to "do for himself." In some such place Jesus was born. Tavern is mentioned once in Scripture (Acts xxviii. 15) where it is said the brethren from Rome met Paul at "the Three Taverns." This was a station on the Appian Way, referred to also in Cicero's _Letters_ (_Ad Att._ ii. 12). So, in modern London, stations are called "Elephant and Castle," or "Bricklayers' Arms," from adjacent houses of entertainment. Among the Greeks inns and innkeepers were held in low repute. The houses were bad and those who kept them had a bad name. A self-respecting Greek entered them as seldom as possible; if he travelled he relied on the hospitality of friends. In Rome under the emperors something akin to the modern inn grew up. There is, however, scarcely any mention of such institutions in the capital as distinguished from mere wine-shops or eating-houses. Ambassadors were lodged in apartments at the expense of the state. But along the great roads that radiated from Rome there were inns. Horace's account of his journey to Brundisium (_Sat._ i. 5), that brilliant picture of contemporary travel, tells us of their existence, and the very name of the Three Taverns shows that there was sufficient custom to support a knot of these institutions at one place. Under the Roman law, the innkeeper was answerable for the property of his guests unless the damage was due to _damnum fatale_ or _vis major_, in modern language the act of God or the king's enemies. He was also liable for damage done by his servant or his slave or other inhabitant of the house.

In the middle ages hospitality was still regarded as a duty, and provision for travellers was regularly made in the monasteries. People of rank were admitted to the house itself, others sought the guest-chamber, which sometimes stood (as at Battle Abbey) outside the precincts. It consisted of a hall, round which were sleeping-rooms, though the floor of the hall itself was often utilized. Again, hospitality was rarely denied at the castle or country house. The knight supped with his host at the daïs or upper part of the great hall, and retired with him into his own apartment. His followers, or the meaner strangers, sat lower down at meat, and after the tables had been removed stretched themselves to rest upon the floor. In desolate parts hospices were erected for the accommodation of pilgrims. Such existed in the Alps and on all the great roads to the Holy Land or to famous shrines, notably to that of Canterbury. The still impressive remains of the Travellers' Hospital at Maidstone, founded by Archbishop Boniface in 1260, give an idea of the extent of such places. The mention of Canterbury recalls two inns celebrated by Chaucer. The pilgrims started from the "Tabard" at Southwark under the charge of Harry Baily the host, and they put up at the "Checquers of the Hope," in Mercery Lane, Canterbury. It is easy to infer that, as time went on, the meagre hospitality of the monastery or the hospice was not sufficient for an increasing middle class, and that the want was met by the development of the mere ale-house into the inn. The "ale-house," to give it the old English name, was always in evidence, and even in pre-Reformation days was a favourite subject for the satirist. In Langland's _Piers the Plowman_ and in Skelton's _Elynour Rummynge_ we have contemporary pictures of ale-houses of the 14th and 16th centuries, but the Tabard is quite a modern inn, with a _table d'hôte_ supper, a sign, a landlord ("right a mery man") and a reckoning!

It has been conjectured (Larwood and Hotten, _History of Signboards_, 1874) that the inn sign was taken or imitated from that displayed on the town houses or _inns_ of noblemen and prelates. The innkeeper alone of tradesmen retains his individual sign. The inn shared with the tavern the long projecting pole garnished with branches. These poles had become of such inordinate length in London that in 1375 they were restricted to 7 ft. But the inn of those times was still a simple affair. In each room there were several beds, the price of which the prudent traveller inquired beforehand. Extortion was frequent, though it was forbidden by a statute of Edward III. The fare was simple; bread, meat and beer, with fish on Fridays. The tavern sentiment is strong in Elizabethan literature. The "Boar's Head" in Eastcheap is inseparably connected with Sir John Falstaff and Dame Quickly. "Shall I not take mine ease in mine Inn?" (1 Henry IV., Act iii. sc. 3) is well-nigh the most famous word of the famous knight. A passage in Holinshed's _Chronicle_ (1587, i. 246) explains the inner meaning of this. He assures us that the inns of England are not as those of other lands. Abroad the guest is under the tyranny of the host, but in England your inn is as your own house; in your chamber you can do what you will, and the host is rather your servant than your master. The "Mermaid" in Bread Street is associated with the memory of many wits and poets--Raleigh, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, Ben Jonson--who frequented it and praised it.

Shenstone's lines as to "the warmest welcome at an inn" vent a common but rather cheap cynicism. Doctor Johnson was a great frequenter of inns and was outspoken in praise and blame. In the time immediately preceding railways the inn, which was also a post-house where the public coach as well as that of the private traveller changed horses, was a place of much importance. We have it presented over and over again in the pages of Dickens. The "Maypole" in _Barnaby Rudge_ may be singled out for mention; it survives at Chigwell, Essex, as the "King's Head."

The effect of railways was to multiply hotels in great centres and gradually increase their size till we have the huge structures so plentiful to-day. The bicycle and later the motor car, through the enormous traffic they caused on the country roads, have restored the old wayside inns to more than their former prosperity.

In Scotland a statute (1424) of James I. ordained inns for man and beast, with food and drink at reasonable prices, in each borough, and a subsequent act prohibited lodging in private houses in places where there were inns, under a penalty of 40s. But for centuries the Scots inn was a poor affair. The Clachan of Aberfoyle in _Rob Roy_, kept by the widow MacAlpine, was probably typical. In _St Ronan's Well_ Scott gives the more pleasing picture of the Cleikum Inn, kept by the delightful Meg Dods, and mention should be made of St Mary's Cottage, with its hostess Tibby Shiels, the scene of one of the _Noctes Ambrosianae_, with memories not merely of Scott but of Christopher North and the Ettrick Shepherd. Burns had much to do with inns and taverns. If Poosie Nancie's, where the Jolly Beggars held wild revel, is long vanished, the Globe at Dumfries still exists, a fair sample of an inn of the period. As late as 1841 Dickens, writing to John Foster during his first visit to Scotland, describes the Highland inns as very poor affairs, "a mere knot of little outhouses" he says of one; and even in Queen Victoria's _Leaves from the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands_ the inn is described as invariably small and unassuming. Thus the development of hotels in Scotland did not begin much before the middle of the 19th century.

In America the first hotel mentioned in New York is "Kriger's Tavern" about 1642, replaced in 1703 by the "King's Arms." When the town came to be English a proclamation was issued regulating the inns. Meals were not to cost more than 8d. or beer 2d. per quart.