December, 1855.
Sergeant William Dobbie—wounded in the right shoulder by a spent 32
lb. shot. He was the sergeant in charge of the sappers in
reserve.
“I must not conclude,” wrote Lieutenant Fisher, “without bringing under
your notice the very gallant conduct of sergeant Landrey, whose
steadiness in the advance, and exertions in cheering on the men were
most praiseworthy.” Lieutenant-Colonel Tylden, being unable to report on
the operations of Lieutenant Fisher and his sappers, Colonel Gordon
supplied the omission. “The officers of engineers and men,” he wrote,
“attached to this column, performed their duty in a brave and devoted
manner. The non-commissioned officers and men bravely followed their
officers, and were foremost among the assailants. Sergeant Landrey
particularly distinguished himself.”
In awarding high praise to the naval brigade for their noble behaviour
with the ladders, Lieutenant Graham acknowledged “the steady conduct of
the party of sappers under sergeant Coppin of the fourth company,” and
drew attention to the valiant behaviour of private John Perie. Alluding
to the latter at another time, Lieutenant Graham wrote, “he was
invaluable to me on that day, as he followed me everywhere, and was
always ready when I wanted anything done.” His cool determination in
taking a message to Lieutenant Murray in front during the thick of the
fight, and returning with an answer, was one of the instances which
called for Lieutenant Graham’s special commendation. When the assault
was over, a naval officer, seeing a wounded man lying exposed in front,
asked for assistance. With his natural brusqueness, Perie said to
Lieutenant Graham, “I’ll follow you, sir!” All three bounded over the
parapet and brought in the injured man. Had further help of the kind
been needed they would have humanely exercised it. The front fortunately
was clear; and so, anxious to prevent the chance of anything falling
into the hands of the enemy, they threw themselves again over the
parapet, and lugged into the trench some ladders from the open. The
devotion of Perie to his brave leader was the more remarkable, as he had
already been wounded by a rifle-bullet in the side.
Major-General Jones also made this record to the credit of the corps:
“The royal sappers and miners continue to distinguish themselves by
their gallantry and good conduct.”
Under Lieutenant Neville of the engineers and Captain Penn, R.A.,
Sergeant Thomas R. Drew and 30 sappers, with destroying implements and
powder-bags, were detailed to act with Brigadier-General Barnard’s
division, which, having marched across the Woronzoff ravine and halted
under the cliffs, was to move forward and capture the Barrack Battery as
soon as the Redan and Malakoff had been taken; but the utter
discomfiture of the two columns placed this subsidiary attack in the
category of impossibilities. While the assault was still at its highest,
corporal Jenkins obtained permission to go to the front to watch its
desperate phases. He was accompanied by sergeant Drew. Keeping close
under the beetling rocks, which in a measure shielded them from the
gusts of fire that struck the steep and broken sides of the ravine, they
at length reached the left flank of the advance trench, where for a
while they looked at the doubtful strife, and returned to report its
progress. Again they moved to the quarries by the rough unbeaten track
they had previously traversed, guiding Lieutenant Neville and Captain
Penn. A short reconnaissance determined Lieutenant Neville to send
Jenkins with a message to General Barnard. Off he started, and
communicated to the General the information he had been commissioned to
convey. Colonel Waddy of the 50th regiment, who had been appointed to
lead the stormers of General Barnard’s column, expressed a wish to go to
the front to see the aspect of affairs, if any one would show him the
road. “Follow the sapper!” said Jenkins, using the phrase of the
trenches; and Colonel Waddy, glad of the offer, run along under the
brows of the rocks, whither the corporal conducted, and found himself in
less than ten minutes safe in the quarries. A few glances put him in
possession of intelligence he did not expect to learn; the attack was
failing; the scenes he witnessed were untoward and disheartening, but he
still had hope of doing some service to retrieve the fortunes of the
day. Placing himself again under the guidance of the corporal, the rough
route by the hill-side was speedily retraced; and the colonel, boiling
over with desire and anxiety, proposed to lead out the stormers at once
without waiting the accomplishment of those operations which were
considered essential before the secondary attacks should commence. But
the orders for the movement of the column were too explicit and
imperative to admit a deviation without special directions from the
ruling authority, and so Colonel Waddy had not the honour on this great
occasion to “do or die.”
Jenkins now rejoined the officers in the quarries. This was his third
march over that toppling hill-side, almost suffocated with dust and
fatigued with a restless foot, which for six hours and more had been in
active motion. Before this time the fate of the day was irrevocable; the
cannonade had ceased, the stormers had retired, the open was clear, but
a murderous crossfire of musketry still played on our works. Seeing a
wounded man of the 57th regiment struggling in front of the Quarry
batteries, Jenkins and Drew volunteered to bring him in. To this
Lieutenant Neville assented, and in broad daylight they bore him to the
trench, resigning their charge to a party of the 57th in the rear. The
poor fellow had been deeply struck in the right thigh and ankle and was
torn with stones and splinters. A little later they saw other men lying
exposed with bad wounds on the reverse of the advance trenches. With a
broken stretcher, the sergeant and Jenkins carried away one after
another into safe cover. This was a service of supreme risk, and many of
the defeated stormers who filled the trenches, pale with enervation and
panic, possessed nevertheless sufficient self-command to make their
surprise obvious. “Look at those mad sappers!” said they, envying the
courage they feared to exercise; but the humane non-commissioned
officers, heedless of the taunts that assailed them, never slackened
their hand till there was no longer a necessity for their exertions.
Again Jenkins pushed into the ravine by the old track. “A corporal of
sappers came along the hill-side from the direction of the Redan,” wrote
Lieutenant-Colonel Sir James Alexander, 14th regiment.[187] “I asked him
what was the news of the assault from the trenches of the right attack?
He said, ‘Bad news,’ and in a few words he told of the disastrous events
of the morning.” The corporal alluded to was Jenkins. Seeing a comrade,
private Rollings, killed and huddled up on the slope with a broken neck,
he begged Lieutenant Neville’s sanction to bear him away, as no sapper
had yet been buried in the trenches. His request being granted, he, with
the help of three volunteers, carried the dead sapper on a
scaling-ladder across the ravine to the first parallel of the left
attack, from whence he was removed to camp and honoured with a soldier’s
funeral.
Equally conspicuous was private George Ramsey in his endeavours to
succour the wounded. He too belonged to Lieutenant Neville’s party, and
crept along under the rocks till he made the open. It was a wonder with
so hot a fire of musketry that he escaped. He first removed a wounded
sailor who had pushed himself into a rifle-pit; and afterwards, with the
assistance of Lieutenant Hallowes of the royal navy, then mate of the
‘Wasp’ steam-sloop, and a few men, he bore away on a scaling-ladder
softened with wool taken from the sacks of the stormers, a brave
rifleman who was struck down with severe wounds near the abattis.
The cool bravery of these three sappers was brought to the notice of
Major-General Jones by Lieutenant Neville, who recommended them for
distinguished medals. They “succeeded under a very heavy fire,” he
reported, “in rescuing the bodies of several wounded men of the 57th
regiment lying out in front of the Redan.”
The column under Brigadier-General Eyre was directed to push down the
picket-house ravine past the cemetery into the rear of the Barrack
Battery, and there co-operate with General Barnard in its capture. This
column bore on with an irresistible front into the grounds near the
graveyard, but were locked in among some houses of the suburb, beyond
which it would have been more than madness to proceed. As it was, they
held the position until evening under a harassing fire, and retreated
with the loss of no less than 31 officers killed and wounded, as also
the Brigadier struck in the head.
Of second-corporal William Baker, third company, who went forward with
this column, a more than passing notice may be permitted. He was on duty
in the third parallel, and left it without orders, declaring at all
hazards he would that day enter the town. But how brittle is human
intention! Armed with his carbine and a full pouch of ammunition, he
joined the 38th regiment; and losing sight of the fact that he was not
in charge of a working party in the saps, cheered on the men with the
inspiriting cry, “Now, my boys, follow the sapper!” In the excitement of
the moment he caught up the expression, because it had become a settled
by-word of the trenches. On went poor Baker, heedless of those who
followed, and he was killed in the ravine beyond the grave-yard.
Disembowelled, wounded in the breast, and with a broken leg, he lay for
a time in great pain. He was seen to wave his hand as if entreating
assistance, but so thick was the firing up the valley from the
crow’s-nest and garden batteries, none dared to pass into it to help the
corporal in his last agonies.
The casualties in the English troops this day were very great. Both
officers who led the columns on the Redan were killed. In addition to
the engineer officers already named, Major-General Jones was wounded in
the head by a grape-shot; and his Brigade-Major, Captain Bourchier,
received a slight contusion in the arm. The French, in their imposing
but unavailing attacks upon the Malakoff, lost 2 generals, 37 officers,
and 1544 men killed, wounded, and missing; while the Russians in their
sturdy defence, achieved a victory at a sacrifice which counted
thousands of killed and wounded. No less than 797 fell dead in the
various works, and 4979 were wounded.
It was a terrific struggle and a memorable failure. Already weakened by
disease, Lord Raglan, ill able to bear the defeat, survived it only a
few days. A warrior, trained under the Duke of Wellington, possessing in
the highest degree habits of calmness, patience, and controlling
perseverance, he was the fittest general in the English army at the time
to bear the responsibility of a great and critical command; and the
distinguished talent and bravery with which he conducted it, gaining
three brilliant battles and sustaining a violent siege for seven months
with only one drawback—that which cost him his noble life—his career as
a commander-in-chief in a great war, will, in after time, meet the
honourable reward it merits from impartial history.
General Simpson, the chief officer of his lordship’s staff, succeeded to
the command.
-----
Footnote 185:
Unexceptionable as a sapper and an Ajax in strength and stature, Smale
was nevertheless a grumbler by nature. This trait in his character was
well-known to both officers and non-commissioned officers; and as in
this state he invariably worked the hardest, it became a habit with
many to endeavour to provoke his indignation. One day Lieutenant
Graves, who was afterwards killed at the siege, felt it no compromise
of position—the intercourse between officers and subordinates in war
being more easy and unrestrained than in peace—to question in a
jesting manner the usefulness of the second company. This was a
subject he knew would ruffle Smale’s plume. “Look here,” said he,
addressing the growler, “I have heard you boasting of the sapper
qualifications of the second company, but from what I have seen of the
men belonging to it, I can’t say much in their favour.” “Eugh!”
mumbled Smale, clutching his pick and shovel, “the second company took
Bomarsund, and you couldn’t take Sebastopol without it.” So saying he
walked into an embrasure, and with the coolest activity patched up its
shattered cheeks. This was the way poor Smale dealt out repartee. His
retorts were all harmless, but usefully demonstrative.
Footnote 186:
Borbidge was never sick during the siege. For eight or ten days he was
at Sinope collecting timber for huts. With this exception he was never
from the front. But few sappers were oftener on duty than he, for his
good health and usefulness passed him into the trenches seldom less
than six times a week. It is melancholy to add, that this fine soldier
was drowned on the 6th December, 1856, at Rochester, when employed in
the demolition of the old bridge. The wind was squally, and while
crossing a plank in a heavy French great coat, a sudden gust carried
him into the eddying river among the shore piles. He was an excellent
swimmer, and as soon as he had got his head above water, called
lustily for a rope; but, before it could be thrown to him, or boats
could push to his assistance, he was borne away by the current and
sank about sixty yards from the bridge.
Footnote 187:
‘United Service Magazine,’ September 1856, p. 23.
1855.
18th June-16th July.
SIEGE OF SEBASTOPOL.
Condition of the batteries; their repair—Alarm of a sortie—Noble
intention of four comrades to recover the body of corporal
Baker—Strategic occupation of the rifle redoubt behind the
cemetery—Interchange of civilities between the Russian and English
truces—Capture of a memento—Escape of Lieutenant Donnelly and
lance-corporal Veal—Lodgment in the cemetery—A sortie
frustrated—Destruction of the rifle redoubt—No. 18 battery, right
attack—Perils in the saps in advance of the quarries—Progress of the
works—Re-occupation of the cemetery—The stone double sap; corporal J.
T. Collins—The two Dromios—Industry of the miners—Progress of the
works and repairs—Even during a storm—Advance of the chevaux-de-frise
up the Woronzoff ravine—Sappers annoyed by light balls—Difficulties in
executing the works—Demolitions in the rear parallels—The
Picket-house—Approach to the cemetery—Wooden bridge—General officers’
hut—Abstraction of gabions by the French—Gallantry in pushing the sap
from left advanced parallel, right attack—Night details—No. 15
battery, left attack—Obstacles to success in commencing the fifth
parallel, right attack—Trenches in the cemetery—Progress of the
works—Conduct and exertions of the engineers and sappers.
By the enemy’s fire, a number of embrasures had been seriously damaged
or demolished, and their early fall was ascribed to the unsubstantial
manner in which they had been built under the superintendence of some
young and inexperienced sappers fresh from England. The works which bore
the brunt of the fight were the 21-gun battery and Nos. 13, 14, and 17
on the right attack. The first had ten embrasures in ruins, while the
remaining batteries scarcely retained a vestige of resemblance to their
original construction. At night there were 20 sappers on the right, and
22 on the left, assisted respectively by working parties of 100 and 273
men. Many of the damaged embrasures were rebuilt before morning; a
passage was widened round the traverse in Egerton’s pit for the passage
of guns, and a number of gabions which had been thrown down or fractured
during the bombardment were replaced in the zig-zags leading to the
quarries, and in the saps issuing from them. The platforms which had
been stoutly laid resisted with firmness the violence to which they had
been subjected, and the magazines withstood an exasperated cannonade
with remarkable success. Several scaling ladders which had fallen with
their intrepid bearers in the unavailing assault, and many of the
abandoned woolsacks were removed; and it was due to the endeavours of a
few spirited volunteers, that about twenty-five men, found on the field
disabled by frightful wounds, were carried to the trenches.
At midnight there was an alarm of a sortie among the French in front of
the Mamelon, which rapidly spread to the quarries. A brisk play of
projectiles took place on both sides, in which the men in the rear
trenches heartily joined. Without a real object to deserve such
warmth—for the Russians had not left their works—they necessarily fired
at random, and some of the workmen in the foremost trenches were wounded
from our own missiles.
A wounded sergeant of the 3rd division had crept into the lines next
day, and reported that a corporal of sappers was still alive in the
garden. Four of his comrades—corporals William Donald, John Medway,
Samuel Varren, and Robert J. Fitzgerald, all of the third company—with a
nobleness of feeling that did them infinite credit, agreed, though not
on duty, to go out and bring him to camp. Accordingly they pushed into
the trench in front of the caves, and seeing, by the aid of an opera
lorgnette, that Baker was motionless, they were desired by Lieut.
Donnelly to defer the attempt, as a truce would shortly take place,
which would enable them to recover the corporal without peril or
molestation.
Major-General Eyre wanting support, was compelled to leave the cemetery
he had gallantly taken on the 18th. Conceiving that circumstances
favoured a bloodless appropriation of the rifle-pits near the cemetery,
Lieutenant Donnelly secured the services of these four men to accompany
him; and while he collected twenty volunteers from the 20th regiment,
private Fitzgerald was sent away to get ten riflemen. Communicating his
orders to the officer commanding the covering party of the rifle
brigade, the number of men were soon made up; but before Fitzgerald
arrived with the detachment, Lieutenant Donnelly had gone with his party
from the left of No. 11 battery down the ravine to the garden, where, as
the firing was hot, he and the volunteers were obliged to lie among the
grass and fruit trees till a momentary lull gave them an opportunity of
moving cautiously to some suburban houses, among which they dodged, and
then crept on all-fours to the wall of the cemetery, where they
concealed themselves. Meanwhile Fitzgerald leading the riflemen, started
from one of the boyaux behind No. 7 battery, and dashing down the hill
under a close fire—for all were exposed—they reached the garden wall
nearest to our trenches. It was some five or six feet high, built of dry
rubble stone, behind which, as they were blown by their fleetness, they
halted to take breath. Relieved by a brief stay, Fitzgerald, the first
to spring over the wall, was followed by the rifles, like bloodhounds in
full chase; and redoubling their speed, raced onwards under an incessant
rattle of musketry, stopping not till they had joined Lieutenant
Donnelly at the cemetery wall.
Another move was now made to the head of the ravine, where Lieutenant
Donnelly placed four men in the first pit, and pushed on to a more
commanding pit on a green knoll; but, unable to occupy it, he
distributed his volunteers, for safety, among some trees and old walls
in the neighbourhood. While these dispositions were being enacted a
truce was agreed upon, which turned the young officer loose on the
little Mamelon, around which he placed his detachment as sentries. The
Russians regarding the pits as in our possession, did not ascend the
mound, but an officer, disinclined to yield the spot, passed the
sentries; and after scrutinizing the locality with speculative
curiosity, returned to his men. The four sappers then went in quest of
Baker. When found, he was dead, and had been so for some hours. He was,
therefore, borne away to camp.[188]
At last the melancholy duty of giving a rough and unceremonious
sepulture to the many dead was accomplished, and Lieutenant Donnelly
descending the mound, moved to the nearest rifle-pit, as did also
lance-corporal James Veal, who bore the white flag. Whilst standing near
the pit, shrouded by the sacred truce, two rifle shots, and shortly
after, a score or two of Miniés were aimed at them. This angry attack
was no doubt occasioned by the report of the officer who forced the
sentries. It was useless now to wave the banner to seek protection under
colour of the truce, and as little hope for their lives was left them,
they depended upon the tact they could exercise to effect their escape.
Lieutenant Donnelly jumped over the parapet, and as he ran, a constant
fire, which would have appalled many an older head, neither made him
falter nor stay his course; and he reached the trenches, as if an egis
had shielded him, without a stroke. Veal remained in the pit, assailed
by an incessant shower of grape and Miniés, shot and shell, which made
gaps in the screen that covered him. There he stood till the darkness
fell; when stealing unperceived from the danger he had for so many hours
outlived, he scrambled ahead as best he could, and picking his way
through the suburbs and gardens, hastened up the hill-side to the 5-gun
battery in the first parallel, with the same scathless fortune as his
officer.
This strategic episode opened up new advantages which were instantly
turned to account by the besiegers. Strong parties were sent into the
cemetery grounds to extend the lodgment as far as the vineyard wall. A
communication was likewise opened to it, in part, from the fourth
parallel. Near the vineyard, however, the Russians burnt down some
houses, which enabled them to see into the position and worry the
workmen. In the night of the 19th, corporal Lockwood had with him a
party deputed to a portion of the duty. From the left of No. 7 battery,
which overhung the ravine in rear of the caves, he marched along the
side of the hill, and, diving into the valley, entered the cemetery
through a door-way in the stone boundary wall. His men threw up a
parapet from the wall to some rifle-pits; another party under corporal
William Donald, continued the trench from the pits, which afterwards
became the left portion of the fifth parallel; and a third party under
corporal George H. Collins, worked from the fourth parallel down the
hill to meet the trench opened by corporal Donald. These three parties
were superintended by sergeant Coppin. The firing on the cemetery and
the new trenches was fierce and constant; grape and shells fell in
incessant showers; and in corporal Lockwood’s party alone, no less than
fourteen men were killed and wounded before day-break. In the face of so
much hostile activity, with sheets of flames from the burning village
lighting up the work, it was not an easy matter to labour, but yet the
sappers and linesmen persevered for a time in placing and filling no
less than eighty gabions. At last the working party, among whom so many
casualties had occurred, decamped, leaving their tools behind them,
which were carried away by the sappers, who returned twice to the deadly
trenches to complete the removal of the stores and the muskets of the
killed and wounded.