I have heard it said that no army was ever driven from so strong a
position as that from which we drove the Russians. We took a number of
prisoners, and among other things, the Russian general's carriage, with
his letters to the emperor, saying that we could not do just the very
thing we did do,--drive him from that hill.
The next day the army marched inland, with Sebastopol on our right, our
generals wishing to get round to the other side of the town, where there
was a good harbour for our ships called Balaclava. We marched on all
day, seeing now and then a few Cossacks, who galloped off as we
advanced. We bivouacked at night; that is to say, we slept on the
ground as we best could, with only our cloaks and blankets round us. We
had not much rest, for we were called to arms several times, it being
thought that the enemy were on us. At last we heard the approach of
cavalry. We sprang to our feet, and fell in ready for action, but it
was only our own cavalry, which had been sent up to protect our flanks.
The next day we came suddenly on a large body of Russians as it seemed.
They, however, did not stop for us, but made off, leaving a quantity of
wagons full of provisions and ammunition. We blew up the powder, which
we did not want, and helped ourselves to the provisions, which we did.
My comrades and I got a quantity of meal to make cakes, and firewood as
our share.
There was an old fort at Balaclava, on the top of a steep hill. It was
defended very bravely by its old commander; but he soon found that he
could not hold it, so he and his eighty men marched out and surrendered
themselves prisoners of war. We thus gained a good harbour for ships.
The part of the army to which I belonged, after remaining a few days at
Balaclava, was marched to the front before Sebastopol. We were here
employed in digging trenches, and throwing up batteries, and getting our
guns into position; that is, into the batteries, pointed towards the
town which we were about to attack. We were twenty-four hours on duty,
and the same number off duty, when we could rest from our work. Very
hard work it was. Thousands of us were employed in it. We had to cut a
zigzag road, as it were, deep into the ground, with a bank towards the
town, so that the shot from the guns in the town could only strike
across the road, and not along it.
We toiled away to get all our batteries ready as soon as possible. The
French and we were ready at the same time, but the batteries were
masked; that is to say, the front was covered up so that the enemy could
not see whether we were ready or not.
The sun rose in a bright sky on the morning of the 17th of October, and
at half-past six o'clock, a hundred and twenty of our guns--some of them
the largest ever made, and which had as yet not fired a shot--began
firing away as hard as they could. The Russians answered with as many
guns of the same size, and thus there were nearly two hundred and fifty
guns all firing away together. The noise was awful. We knocked over a
good many of the enemy's guns, and they blew up a French magazine; by
which a hundred men were killed in a moment. A good many of our men
were killed. The smoke was so thick that the gunners could not even see
the town at which they were firing.
The day after the guns opened, it was made known to us that ten
volunteers from each regiment--good shots--were wanted to get as close
up as possible to the town, and to shoot the Russian gunners whenever
sight could be got of them.
I at once volunteered and was accepted. Having been paraded before the
Duke of Cambridge, who told us what we were to do, we set off. Shot,
shells, and bullets were whizzing and hissing by us as we made our way
onwards.
We had not got far when one of our party was wounded. One of my
comrades, Donald McKenzie, and I halted, dressed his wound as best we
could, sent him back to the hospital, and then pushed on, creeping and
running, and taking advantage of every bit of cover we could find. We
thus got up to within a hundred yards of the Russian guns in a fort they
called the Redan, and jumped into a pit which the enemy had themselves
dug to shelter their own riflemen, who came there at night to annoy our
working parties. Here we were sheltered, and could pick off the Russian
gunners without being seen. They soon, however, found us out, and sent
doses of cannister and grape shot towards us, knocking the dust and
stones about our heads. A grape shot hit the right hand of one of my
comrades, and took off the forefinger. "Ah, my boys, I'll pay you off
for that, and give you a warm one in return," he exclaimed, as he
reloaded his rifle. He was as good as his word, and he picked off many
a Russian who appeared in their batteries.
Our batteries had different names. One near us was the 21 Gun Battery.
Red-hot shot were fired from it, and before long they blew up a Russian
magazine. The men in the battery, mostly Jack Tars, seeing this, got up
and cheered lustily; and even we who were in the pits so close to the
enemy couldn't help doing the same. We had better have been silent, for
the enemy sent a shower of rockets and grape shot among us as also at
the battery. One of the rockets blew up an ammunition wagon, bringing
powder into the battery. This made the Russians jump up and cheer, and
as we picked off some of their men as they did so, they sent out a
company of their sharpshooters to attack us. Our captain, seeing this,
thought it prudent to retire. We therefore each of us took steady aim
at a particular man, and in most cases knocking him over, jumped out of
the pit and retired towards our camp.
The next day we returned to the same place by a different road. It was
not well chosen, and several of our men were wounded in going towards
the pits. We held them for some hours, when the Russians, not liking
the way we treated them, came against us in strong force. We of course
had to jump out of our holes and retire, but they almost surrounded us
as it was. Fortunately the force of riflemen on outpost duty saw our
position, and advanced to our assistance. We then retired towards them,
disputing every inch of the ground.
The Russians had now got into the pits we had left. Once more,
therefore, we advanced to drive them out. They stood their ground, and
we had a fierce hand-to-hand fight with them.
I found myself engaged with a fellow who fought more desperately than
any of his comrades. Having discharged his musket, he rushed at me with
his bayonet, a dig from which I had much difficulty in avoiding. Just
then his helmet was knocked off, and I saw clearly the features of Shane
McDermot. I cried out "Traitor, deserter, scoundrel, I know you!
Yield!"
On hearing this he seemed as eager to escape as he was before to fight.
Calling to his comrades in Russian, several of them sprang back with
him. Others, however, stood their ground, and gave us shot for shot. I
loaded, and fired at Shane. I thought that I had hit him, for he fell;
but he was up again and retreating with his companions.
Meantime the rest of our party were actively engaged. Joseph Hartley, a
corporal of my party, showed a great deal of spirit. He jumped on to
the top of the mound overlooking the pits, and firing rapidly, shot
three Russians, one after the other, through their heads. A captain of
the Guards jumped right down into the pit, and was wounded through both
his wrists.
The Russians, however, at last took to flight, leaving three dead and
many more wounded. We took their rifles and ammunition from them, and
returned into camp, helping along the captain of Guards, whose wounds
had been bound up by my comrade Donald McKenzie, who has before been
mentioned.
We continued the same sort of work till the morning of the 25th of
October; while the Duke of Cambridge was instructing us what to do, news
was brought that the Russians were attacking Balaclava. We hastened to
join our respective regiments, and found the Russians in great force
attacking on all points. The Turks, who had charge of the outposts, had
been driven in, and the 93rd Highlanders, under Sir Colin Campbell, were
formed in line ready to receive the Russian cavalry as they advanced
towards the hill. A steady volley, at two hundred yards, sent the
Russians flying back, but, to the surprise of the Highlanders, not a man
fell from the saddle, when it was found that they were all strapped on
to their horses, so that the dead and wounded were carried out of the
fight. The Enniskillens and Scots Greys clashed right on the flanks of
the retreating cavalry, and cut them up terribly before they could get
back to the Russian army, which appeared with a strong force of
artillery on the opposite side of the valley.
It was shortly after this that the light cavalry, through a mistaken
order given by poor Captain Nolan, who was directly afterwards killed,
charged across the valley at the enemy's guns, other guns playing on
them from either side. If the French cavalry had not charged and helped
them, not a man would have escaped; as it was, they were fearfully cut
up, the greater number being killed or wounded. Still it was a sight to
make a soldier's heart beat quick as with their helmets glittering and
their swords flashing in the sunbeams, that gallant band dashed across
the valley. But it was sad to watch those who did escape, coming back,
many on foot, one wounded man between two others, some scarcely able to
sit their horses, very few unhurt; and to think what a gallant band they
had looked as they rode down the hill but a few minutes before.
We remained on the heights of Balaclava that night, prepared to receive
the Russians if they had returned; but they had had enough of us, and
had retreated. We of the light division remained stationed at this
place all the winter.
There was another bloody battle fought not long after this on the 5th of
November, called the battle of Inkerman. The allied armies were posted
on high ground, with the sea on one side, and deep valleys on the other.
Below the British right, where the ground was very steep, were the
rivers Chernaya and Inkerman. The Russian general knew that this was
our weakest point, and evidently hoped to take us by surprise. The
morning was so dark and foggy that the officers who were visiting the
outposts could not see twenty yards before them into the valley. Sir
Thomas Trowbridge was the first, I have heard, to discover the approach
of the enemy. They were close upon our camp with 60,000 men, and were
beginning to climb the heights before the bugle sound summoned our
troops to stand to their arms. The British during the whole day had not
more than 8,000 men engaged. The Russians climbed up the heights, but
again and again were driven back, till the French, at last coming up,
put them to flight. The Guards, who had a great deal of the fighting,
behaved most bravely, and lost a great many officers and men. The
British army on that morning had 43 officers and 416 men killed, and 101
officers and 1332 men wounded, while 200 were missing, mostly made
prisoners.
A very severe winter now set in, and a large steamer _The Prince_, with
clothing for the army, sank off Balaclava in a fearful gale, in which
many other vessels were lost. The weather was very cold, with snow and
wind and rain, and our poor fellows suffered greatly from want of food
and clothing and shelter. Our tents were nearly worn out, and were at
all events unfit for the winter, and we were obliged to live in hovels
and holes in the ground. From what I have heard, many more men die of
sickness in war-time than are killed in battle; and from the numbers who
died of cholera and other complaints, in the Crimea, I believe that to
be true.
I have not said anything about Marshall for some time. He did his duty
steadily and well, and was always cool under fire. He had not
volunteered as I had done for any dangerous work, but he was a man on
whom I knew that I could rely, whatever was to be done. He came one day
to me in high spirits, with a letter he had received from Kathleen. She
prayed that the war would soon be over. She said that her father had
just had some money left him, and would, if he was willing, as soon as
he returned home, purchase his discharge.
"It's a kind, noble offer," said Marshall; "I will accept it and
return,--work for him as long as I live."
I praised his intention, said that I wished I had the same chance, and
wished him a long life and happiness with his pretty Kathleen. Soon
after this my old comrade was made a corporal, and I received an honour
I little expected. A general parade was ordered for the whole regiment,
when a square being formed, in the centre of which the colonel with
other officers were posted, several men were called up, I being one of
them. He then presented us with a distinguished conduct medal, on which
were the words, "For distinguished conduct in the field." On giving me
mine, he congratulated me and wished me long life to wear the
decoration. He hoped, he said, that many other young men in the
regiment would follow my example, and he could assure them that if they
did, the same rewards were in store for them. The captains of companies
were then ordered to march their respective companies to their private
parades, when my captain wished me long life and happiness, and my
comrades were so pleased that they lifted me up, and carried me to my
hut, and the medal went the rounds of the whole company.
"Well done, Jack; I'm glad you've got that. You've earned it, that you
have, my boy," was the sort of remark made to me by my comrades, one
after the other. Marshall also was commended for his bravery and
coolness.
"Ah Jack, I'll do something to try and gain that, to carry home to her;"
he said to me as he gave the medal back into my hands.
That dreadful winter passed away at last. I do not think that British
troops ever went through greater trials than did the British army in the
Crimea, and never did men submit more patiently, or more nobly do their
duty. There is one thing to be said, our officers set us the example.
They suffered as much as we did, and never complained. We could not
help ourselves; but many of them we knew well were gentlemen of good
property, who could have enjoyed life at home, in ease and comfort; and
instead of that they stayed out with us at the call of duty, went
through the hardships and risked their lives as we did, who had nothing
to lose and everything to gain. One young baronet, with many thousand
pounds a year, was killed at the battle of the Alma, and his brother who
succeeded him fell directly afterwards. Both commissioned and
non-commissioned officers and men performed many gallant deeds.
Several, when their comrades were wounded, dashed forward, and though
the shot, shells, and bullets of the enemy were flying about their
heads, lifted them up in their arms or on their backs and took them out
of the fight. The Honourable Major Clifford in this way carried off one
of his men who had fallen close to him, from among the enemy; so did
Sergeant Moynihan, who is now a captain. On the 8th September, Sergeant
Moynihan was the first to enter the Redan. One of his officers,
Lieutenant Smith, having been killed, he made a gallant attempt to
rescue his body, and after being twice bayoneted was made prisoner, but
rescued by the advance of the British. John Alexander, a private of the
19th regiment, brought in Captain Buckley and several men after the
attack on the Redan. At the battle of Inkerman, Private Beach, seeing
Lieutenant-Colonel Carpenter lying on the ground, and several Russians
advancing towards him, dashed forward, killed two of them, and protected
the colonel against his assailants, till a party of the 41st regiment
coming up put them to flight. Private Mcdermot, also at Inkerman, saved
the life of Colonel Haly, much in the same way. However, I could fill
pages with accounts of the brave deeds done by our men during the war.
Many young sergeants not only gained the Victoria Cross, but had their
commissions given them, and are now captains and adjutants of their
respective regiments. A man, to gain this rank, however, must be steady
and sober, have a thorough knowledge of his duty, be brave and cool, and
a good scholar.
However I must go back to my tale. We remained at Balaclava till June,
when we were ordered to the front to take part in a proposed attack on
the fortress. The French were to attack the Malakoff battery, and we,
under Sir George Brown, the Redan; while another force under General
Eyre, was to threaten the works about the dockyard creek.
The French began the attack before daybreak, and before long the order
was given for us to advance. We could not hold the Redan till the
French had taken the Malakoff. We advanced rather too soon. We were
met by a tremendous fire, and Sir John Campbell who, calling to the
troops to follow, led the way over the parapet right up to the enemy's
guns, was shot dead with many other officers and men. Other officers
with small parties of men would dash forward, waving their swords, only
to meet the same fate.
"Come, boys," cried Marshall, who had been for some time under the
shelter of the parapet, "I'm resolved to gain my promotion to-day;
who'll follow? We'll take those guns."
Nearly twenty men sprang out with him and rushed forward. Poor fellows,
they were met as the others had been by an iron shower, which left not
one unhurt. Only three got back, and Marshall was not among them. I
would have tried to bring him off, but the others said he was among the
first killed. However, I resolved to go and look for him as soon as I
could, without the certainty of losing my own life, as I should have
done had I gone then.
It was sad to think that so many brave men should have lost their lives
to no purpose. A truce was arranged for a few hours that both sides
might bury their dead. The instant the white flag was hoisted on the
fortifications of Sebastopol, I hurried towards the Redan to look for
Marshall, before any of the burying parties should find his body if he
was killed. I had some slight hopes that he might still be alive,
though unable to move on account of his wounds. It was sad to see the
number of the bravest of our men who had fallen under the Redan. The
whole way up to the guns was strewed with bodies, and as I got nearer to
the guns, there were many corpses of Russians, who had attacked the
British as they were retiring. I looked eagerly about. There lay poor
Marshall. I took his hand. He would never grasp rifle again. Near him
lay a Russian soldier, whose bayonet, it seemed clear to me, had pierced
his breast, and who himself had been shot at the same moment by
Marshall's rifle, for the weapons lay crossed on the ground as they had
fallen from the grasp of the dying men. The Russian soldier had rolled
over on his side. I turned him round. Though his face was begrimed
with dust and smoke, I at once knew his features. They were those of
Shane McDermot. He had at length met the fate he deserved--too good for
him, many will say, but he had also been allowed to kill in revenge as
honest and brave and simple-hearted a soldier as ever fought for his
Queen and country. I felt inclined to kick the body of the seeming
Russian, but I did not. I saw at once that such would not be a worthy
or a Christian act. "He is in the hands of One who knows how to reward
and punish," I thought to myself; and leaving the dead body of my enemy
where it lay, I lifted that of my friend on my shoulders, and bore it
away towards our lines. I was resolved that it should rest in British
ground. Several persons asked why I was taking so much trouble with a
dead body.
"He was his comrade and friend, poor fellow!" I heard one or two say.
I carried him to a quiet spot, and there I dug a grave as deep as I
could, and hunted about till I found a stone, which I placed at his
head. I should say that before I placed my old comrade in his grave, I
searched his pockets that I might send anything I could find in them
home. Among them was a pocket-book, and in it was a letter he had
written the night before to Kathleen. He told her how he hoped to win
fame and a name, and might be win his commission, and make her a lady as
she deserved to be. Poor fellow! his ambition, which till then had been
asleep, was aroused. How soon was it, with all his earthly hopes, cut
short! Such has been many another young soldier's fate. We lost that
day alone, 22 officers and 230 men killed, and 71 officers and upwards
of 1000 men wounded. Altogether it was about the saddest of the whole
war.