The Dry Docks of Sebastopol
[New York Journal 1856]
With the name of Sebastopol we have so long been accustomed to associate the idea of strength and impregnability, that it is difficult to reconcile its present position with what it was but a year ago. How is the mighty fallen! The proud city that stood on the emplacement of the ancient Akhtair, is no longer a mountain of Russian greatness. The same species of ingenuity which constructs, out of the simplest materials of the earth, the strongest works, also finds the means to overwhelm them with destruction; and Sebastopol, at present, may be viewed in the light of a strong man whose very strength has been the cause of his physical ruin.
Of the five celebrated dry docks in the Karabelnaia suburb, as represented above, one was demolished in December Last. Not in a month, or a week, or a day; but in one blast the massive fabric was almost instantaneously reduced to a heap of stones. This was accomplished by the engineers of the French. The dock selected on this occasion was the one placed to the west of the lock through which vessels formerly entered into the great basin. In addition to this dock, the French have since destroyed another on the east side of the entrance lock. This lock, with its sides and foundation of cut masonry, and magnificent floodgates, has the appearance of another dock, and half the basin.
Although the engineering operations were some time ago completed for the destruction of the whole of these structures, the object in demolishing one portion only, was to attest the accuracy of certain calculations with regard to the quantity of gunpowder necessary for effecting the desired result. The quantity actually employed to destroy the one, is laid to have been a little over 2,000 pounds weight.
In the docks which have since been destroyed by the English, perpendicular shafts were sunk, at frequent intervals, along the sides, for the purpose of blowing the whole of the aides inwards. Latterly, also, galleries were constructed beneath the foundations of the bottom of each dock, so that their demolition was certain. Arrangements were made for firing the English mines by a voltaic battery. The French mines were fired by means of trains of laid gunpowder and fuses.
The report accompanying such a Titanian work of destruction, imagination would suggest to be like that which accompanies some awful convulsion of nature. But what was the case? It was heard in camp, but was generally supposed to be the bursting of some of the Russian projectiles among the buildings of the town. Nearer to the scene of the explosion, a tremulous agitation of the ground was felt; and this was followed by that peculiarly compressed sound—more like the rumbling of distant thunder, than the usual report of gunpowder fired from within metal—which always accompanies subterraneous discharges. Simultaneous with the noise of the blasting, the sky over the situation of the docks becomes clouded with smoke, stones and rubbish—masses of considerable size rise perpendicularly upwards—at the same time a shower of masonry is hurled from each side into air, and curves towards the centre—a dense cloud of smoke rests over the place of ruin—a sort of terrific stillness pervades the atmosphere, and all is over.
The three docks in charge of the English, as shown in our representation, were separated from the end of the Karabelnaia ravine—where an enormous amount of water collected, and formed an immense pond or reservoir—only by an artificial causeway, constructed at an enormous expense labor by the Russians during the formation of the docks, and through this earth the water recently gradually percolated. Notwithstanding this difficulty, however, the whole of the operations were prepared for their destruction, and they have now been rendered totally worthless for any purpose whatever.
[The New American Cyclopaedia 1859]
The dry docks at Sebastopol, which were mainly destroyed after the capture of the city, Sept, 8, 1855, (Crimean War) were situated considerably above the level of the Black Sea, and the expense of pumping was entirely avoided; ships were raised into a general dock basin by a series of 3 locks, each of which had a rise of 10 feet. The water for supplying the basin, for filling the docks, and for working the locks, was brought by a canal 12 miles long, which taps a mountain stream. Vessels, after being elevated into the general basin, were floated into one of these dry docks, and the gates being closed, the water was let off into the sea, through a subterranean culvert.
[The Household narrative of current events 1855 ]
The stone docks of Sebastopol (among the greatest and most magnificent works of their kind in the world) are about to be destroyed by the Allies. The engineering operations for their destruction are undertaken by the English and French jointly.
There operations are described by the correspondent of the Daily News:
"There are six docks, arranged in two rows of three docks, one row behind the other. The two sets of docks, one row behind the other. The Two sets of docks are separated form each other by a very large and capacious basin. The first series, that nearest to the head of the Karabelnaia port, is constructed for the reception of vessels drawing 21 feet of water: the second, for drawing 18 feet of water. They are built of carefully cut white limestone, edged with a close-grained fine granite: and in every part wherever there is more than the usual liability to wear and detrition. whether from friction, strain, or weather, or where particular support, this latter kind of stone is used in place of the former. At certain intervals where openings have been left in the sides of the docks to admit of descent by flights of stone steps, are seen some highly polished blocks of red granite, magnificent in size and quality, which are said to have been brought all the distance from Aberdeen.
The iron gates, of enormous size, and the machinery by which they are opened and closed, are all of the most careful workmanship. Close to the docks themselves is a large engine-house, and near it is seen the termination of the aqueduct from Tehorgoan. The docks were filled from this source, and the pumps are so arranged that each dock could be filled or emptied irrespective of the remainder. Thus one dock could be employed as a dry dock white a vessel was afloat in the dock adjoining. since the stream flowing along the aqueduct was diverted by the Allies, the docks have remained dry, and many fragments of shells as well as round shot are now to be seen scattered about them and over the floor of the great basin. Alongside of the docks are spacious wharves, and all the various workshops, sheds, and houses used by the artisans and laborers in the dockyard employ. These wharves are continuous with those of the Karabelnaia harbor, terminating at Fort Paul, where the lofty store buildings are placed which were partly converted into hospitals when the barrack hospitals were no longer tenable, and when so many dead and wounded were left on the 9th of September...
Looking down on the docks of the Karabeinaia from the high ground near the entrance, there appears such a perfect unity in their design, the scale on which they are built is so magnificent, the execution of the work so perfect, that it is impossible to watch the operations of the miners for their destruction, without a felling of regret that so vast an expenditure of wealth and labour, such toil of mind and ingenuity of thought, should have been employed and exercised to so little good result….”
Sources: New York Journal 1856, The New American Cyclopaedia 1859, The Household narrative of current events By Charles Dickens 1855