ALAND THE BALTIC IN 1854. 205 



enough, was the white flag. A crowd of the curious 

 at once rushed to the spot. The French were in 

 great excitement, gesticulating, dancing, and alter- 

 nately patting us and their muskets. A blank 

 succeeded the triumph, as the cortege of chiefs came 

 hack announcing that the terms of capitulation were 

 not agreed upon. In an instant the French resumed 

 their soldier-like attitude. One sound of the bugle, 

 and with that wonderful celerity of theirs, each man 

 was in his place. The fire was resumed, hut feebly 

 and dully. There was no heartiness in it, and it was 

 evident that the garrison, dispirited and disheartened, 

 were on the eve of surrender. The question was solved 

 for them. In the morning of the 14th two French 

 officers, Lieutenants Gigot and Gibon, whose hearts 

 were more heroic than their names, illustrated the 

 campaign by a deed of daring. "Followed by a 

 determined band of men," they dashed into the fort 

 through the lower embrasures. In the suddenness 

 of the attack the commandant was killed by a 

 bayonet-thrust; the remnant of the garrison, thirty- 

 two men, were made prisoners. The rest had escaped 

 to the large work. Thus was the first fort won. No 

 breach had been made, no gun disabled, the walls 

 but partially injured. The bullets, however, had told 

 with murderous effect, and conquered the garrison 

 whilst their fortress was still tenable. The fort, in 

 fact, fell to the rifles. This was a good trial of a 

 new power. 



