109. The praise due to him was unjustly given both in the colonial and metropolitan press to sergeant Davis, of the 12th regiment: but it was claimed for sergeant King, in a very soldier-like manner, by corporal Wilmore of the party, who was present and wounded in the action. Without attempting to disparage the conduct of the sergeant of the 12th, the corporal explained that at the period the charges took place, sergeant Davis was in the rear at the Old Post, with four volunteer sappers, awaiting orders to proceed to Fort Brown for a military reinforcement.—‘Graham’s Town Journal,’ October 23, 1852.
110. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 237.
111. ‘Naval and Military Gazette,’ August 21, 1852.
112. ‘Graham’s Town Journal,’ October 22, 1853.
113. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 236.
114. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 301.
115. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 309.
116. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 328.
117. Much of the information afforded of the expedition is gleaned from an official report by Lieutenant Siborne, and the “Order Book” of the detachment.
118. The sappers were very popular with the good people of Melbourne. Wherever their red-coats were seen, all sorts of inconvenient invitations followed. He must have been more than Bacchus to have accepted a tithe of their overflowing attentions. Luckily the men were impregnably temperate. To escape from the extravagant compliments of the citizens, Captain Ross, on the representation of corporal Goodear, permitted his sappers to appear in plain clothes. They were thus lost among the people, and saved from the friendly annoyances to which their bright uniform had honourably exposed them.
119. ‘Morning Chronicle,’ June 27, 1853.
120. ‘The Times,’ June 15, 1853.
121. Sergeant Brown has served twice in Gibraltar and also a campaign in Syria. He was present at the capture of Tyre, Sidon, and Beirout, and the defensive occupation of D’Junie and Jaffa. Has since gained credit for his services at the capture and destruction of Bomarsund and the siege of Sebastopol. Removed in a dangerous state of illness from the trenches, he was sent to the hospital at Smyrna, from which, being invalided, he arrived at Woolwich in July, 1855, and is now quartermaster-sergeant at Chatham.
Sergeant Sillifant distinguished himself at Gibraltar as a first-class artificer and foreman of works. Has since served at Bermuda, and returned to England on the recall of his company.
122. ‘Morning Herald,’ July 19, 1853.
123. Killed in the trenches before Sebastopol by a rifle-bullet, April 18, 1855.
124. ‘Morning Herald,’ July 19, 1853.
125. ‘Morning Herald,’ July 19, 1853. It is not a little strange that among the unclaimed letters was one addressed to “His Eminence Cardinal Antonelli, Secretary to His Holiness the Pope.” The correct epithets of distinction in the superscription, made it evident that the missive was written by a well-informed person. As however the Cardinal had not pitched his tent among our troops, the letter which was directed “to be left till called for,” formed one of the spoils of the camp.
126. Served in Turkey, Bulgaria, Wallachia, and the Crimea. Was promoted for his gallantry at the battle of Giurgevo, and died of wounds received in the trenches before Sebastopol, in May, 1855.
127. An accident occurred to this soldier at Virginia Lake, which but for his presence of mind was likely to have terminated fatally. The waggons were parked on the slopes of the water, and it being desired to pack the stores on them, private Collins with three other privates rushed to the spot, and put a waggon in motion. Collins laid hold of the shafts,—the others pushed in the rear. By some mistake the men in rear quitted their hold, and the waggon thus left to itself rolled with great velocity down the slope, forcing Collins on with it. His situation was now very critical; but seeing at once the danger and the way to escape, he plunged from between the shafts, in an oblique direction into the lake, and saved himself by swimming, while the waggon with its own impetus dashed onwards, until its speed was spent by the resistance of the water. Had he not thus extricated himself, he would have been tumbled over by the waggon, and most likely drowned under its body. Served afterwards in Turkey, Circassia, Bulgaria, and the Crimea. Was present at the bombardment of Odessa, capture of Redoubt Kaleh, and at the siege of Sebastopol, and bore the character of being a good sapper and a first-rate man in bridge-making and boat services. By his comrades he was respected for his wit and spirit. His constitution giving way in the trenches, he died at Kululee on the 2nd April, 1855.
128. Under an officer, he has charge of the preparation of the 10·56 feet plans of Plymouth, Stonehouse, and Devonport, and of the office for the examination of plans and documents antecedent to the engraving of the work.
129. He also assisted Captain Fowke, R.E., in testing the comparative qualities of various woods, products of New South Wales, British Guiana, and Jamaica, which had been exhibited at the Palais de l’Industrie. “In conducting and registering these experiments,” wrote Captain Fowke, “I was assisted by corporal James Mack, of the royal sappers and miners, who displayed the greatest zeal, intelligence, and ability throughout.”—‘Reports on the Paris Universal Exhibition.’ Part i. 1856, p. 407.
130. Of the connection of the sappers with a service so interesting, the following anecdote is an illustration. A “foreigner of distinction” paid a visit to the Palais de l’Industrie. With Captain Fowke he rambled over the courts, and while the Captain was explaining to him, among other matters, his experiments on the strength of woods, they reached the spot where corporal Mack, in the Captain’s temporary absence, was carrying them on with all the intelligence of a scientific man. A little further on was another sapper. This was sergeant Jenkins, who, for the visitor’s information, cleverly expatiated on some philosophical apparatus in his charge. A red-coat in the building was an object of decided attraction, and the foreigner looked with no little satisfaction at corporal Clabby, who was then making a minute and accurate survey of the position of the cases and objects in the Exhibition. He had scarcely withdrawn his attention from the draughtsman, when a fourth sapper in the person of corporal Key, the indefatigable overseer, came in for a share of the foreigner’s approbation, and he expressed to Captain Fowke his amazement that so many difficult and important duties could, with such efficient results, be intrusted to them. But the measure of his astonishment was not yet full. There was a magnificent organ, built by Bevington and Son, of Greek-street, Soho, in the Palais, which had gained the first-class prize, on which, while the distinguished foreigner was taking his tour, an amateur with a small body and a young and pleasing countenance was performing. Drawn by the power and grandeur of its tones, the Captain and his friend repaired to the compartment where it had a locâle, but on turning the corner, instead of finding, as was expected, a “Maestro,” or “un professeur anglais,” seated before the instrument disporting himself with the hauteur of a musical genius, the foreigner was struck by seeing another sapper, complacently playing with the proficiency and grace of a modest professional. “Mon Dieu!” he cried, as if the varied employments of the British sappers were too exuberant to merit a less startling exclamation, “Encore un sapeur du genie!” And the foreigner went away with a most excited opinion of the talents and attainments of the corps, of which the men above named were the creditable representatives. The military Mozart on this occasion, who strangely enough was named after that “divine composer,” was Ludovico Amedius Woolfgang Hart!—a name due less to his English than his German extraction. As young Hart had opportunity, he applied himself to the great organ with its three rows of keys, pedals, and accessory movements, containing also eighteen hundred and eleven pipes and forty-two stops. His performances comprised selections from Handel’s Messiah, Haydn’s Creation, and other oratorios. Once when Her Majesty was passing through the English department he took his place at the instrument, and made the Palais swell with “God save the Queen;” and on another eventful day, when the Emperor of the French was visiting the Exposition, he struck up the national anthem of France—“Partant pour le Syrie.”
131. The first time the Emperor visited the portion of the gallery allotted to Great Britain, he condescended to scan the survey contributions. As he approached the compartment, sergeant Jenkins saluted him. In return the Emperor took off his hat and bowed; and, as if to make the sergeant feel perfectly at home in his presence, smiled and seemed in delightful humour. After glancing at the six-inch map of Edinburgh, over which was written in conspicuous letters, “Ordnance survey of Scotland,” His Majesty exclaimed, “Ordnance survey of Scotland! but where is the map of England?” Jenkins explained that he had several specimens of the one-inch map of England, and invited the illustrious Monarch to inspect them. “O! certainly;” and His Majesty graciously accompanied the sergeant to the interior of the little court taken up by the survey specimens, where, in a measure, His Majesty was isolated from the crowd, which, with straining curiosity and awe, followed the imperial footsteps. When examining the one-inch map of North Wales, the Emperor traced his finger over the neighbourhood of Snowdon, and observed, “the shading of the hills is beautifully executed.” The sergeant then directed the Emperor’s attention to the plan of St. Andrews on the five-feet scale—a map very much commended for its finish by all the eminent engineers who had examined it. His Majesty appeared highly pleased with it, and then succeeded a string of questions which the sergeant—a stranger to the parasitical language of the courtier—answered with the honest pertinence and refinement of a man of good common sense. Among the interrogatories was one in which the Emperor enquired,—“Has the whole of England been surveyed on the six-inch scale?” In looking at the great theodolite, the Emperor evinced unequivocal interest; more so, when the sergeant informed him it had been in use above sixty years, and had operated on the summits of the highest mountains and most of the important trigonometrical stations in England, Scotland, and Ireland. Of its action, adjustment, and peculiarities the Emperor asked several questions, and called a scientific attendant, to whom His Majesty explained, in French, what the sergeant had communicated to him. The Emperor then examined the models of Arthur’s seat and the Merrick hills, and also that of the zenith sector, with all of which His Majesty was well satisfied. Surrounded by a vast assembly, with heads uncovered and in breathless admiration of the magnanimity of the incident, thus was passed an interview of about a quarter of an hour, between the Emperor of the French and a British soldier!
132. Of the party, Clabby, Hart, and Kelly only were at the fire. They attached themselves to the engine nearest the building; so close was it, that Kelly was struck on the shoulder with a piece of burning timber. At one time the pipe burst, spirting the water over the workmen. One of the Zouaves was up to his knees in water trying to mend the fracture, when corporal Clabby went to his assistance, and taking the handkerchief from his neck bound it round the pipe, and partially removed the annoyance. This little act, so gracefully and promptly performed, met with a shout of applause from the multitude, and before the ringing of the acclamations had subsided, an officer from the Marshal of the “Garde de Paris” made a note of their names; with what object, perhaps, the future may tell.
133. The ancestry of the Bradfords can be traced, traditionally, to a very remote period. It commenced, as far as the family information extends, with Ranulph de Broade Forde—since contracted into Bradford—who in 1191 served under Richard I. in the Holy War, and fought at the siege of Ascalon in the third crusade. Apparently, the patronymic of the Broade Fordes was derived from a fortress held by Ranulph as the heir of his race, which defended a ford at the confluence of two streams important in border warfare on the marches of Wales.
Without attempting to renew the links in the broken chain of genealogical succession, it seems that in the direct line from Ranulph sprang John Bradford, who was born at Manchester about 1522. At an early age, under Sir John Harington, Knight of Exton in Rutland, “treasurer of the King’s camps and buildings,” and chief engineer at Boulogne, he served as paymaster at the siege of Montreuil in 1544. Three years later he was a student of common law at the Inner Temple, where he became a convert to Protestantism; and relinquishing, in 1548, his secular intentions, became a student at Cambridge, and soon after a Fellow of Pembroke College. Ridley, Bishop of London, ordained him deacon in 1550, and next year he was installed as a prebendary of St. Paul’s, and appointed one of the six chaplains of Edward VI. to preach in the distant parts of the kingdom. In 1553, a month after the king’s death, and the accession of Queen Mary, Bradford was a State prisoner. The truthfulness of his preaching, his great popularity as a minister, and Christian firmness in promoting the reformed doctrines, did not suit the religious régime which, under the bigoted intolerance of the Queen, had commenced to disturb the fabric of the reformation. On a trumped-up charge of sedition and heresy he suffered two years incarceration in the Tower and King’s Bench, and, at length, refusing to retract his pious convictions, was martyred, by burning, at Smithfield, 1st July, 1555.
From a brother of this “champion of the faith” lineally descended the Rev. Edward Bradford, rector of Buckland Filleigh.
John, a son of the rector, married Gertrude Coham, of Coham. Considerable landed property was held by the family from the Earl of Oxford and his successors, the Lords Clinton; but the estates having been placed in chancery, leases without the possibility of renewing them, and an extensive fire having consumed a great part of the market-town of Sheepwash, laid the foundation of a series of calamities from which the family have never recovered.
Among the offspring of John, were John, William, and Michael. The two first were surgeons in the royal navy, William perished in the foundering of the “Royal George” at Spithead, June, 1782. Michael was likely to have retrieved the fortunes of the family by his success as a surgeon, but he died young, leaving, among other children—
Michael, an orphan of four years of age. There was enough for the son when he arrived at man’s estate to pass comfortably through life, and he married well. His wife was Mary Tamlyn, daughter of Bamfylde Tamlyn, by Mary, second daughter of Richard Somers, Esq., of Northtawton, Devon, and sister of the wife of Robert Harrington, Esq., of Worden. The father of Bamfylde Tamlyn, was the Rev. Gregory Tamlyn, rector of Bradford. In the Will of John Bamfylde of Arlington, the relationship of Rector Tamlyn with the family is acknowledged in a passage which affectionately styles him “my beloved cousin.” The pedigree of the Bamfyldes is of undoubted antiquity, and this branch of it is a shoot from the stem to which cling the Baronets and Lords of Poltimore. Young Michael, who had increased by his marriage, his pecuniary competence and standing in society, was not remarkable for the economy of his pursuits. He was fond of sporting in all its phases, and indulged in other expensive habits, which ended in his ruin.
From this marriage sprang five sons and a daughter. Michael the quartermaster is the second son. He is thus a collateral descendant of Bradford the martyr, and a “poor relation” of a few families of repute and distinction at the present day.
134. Mr. William G. Collins was appointed master 1st August, 1856. He joined the royal artillery band at ten years of age. When he had established his name as a performer, he turned his attention to composition, and was instructed as a theoretical musician by James Harris, Esq. Mus. Bac. of Oxon. When quite a young man he was promoted to be master of the band on the recommendation of Sir Henry Bishop and the President of the Royal Academy of Music—Cipriani Potter. Subsequently he held a similar situation in the Royal Bucks Militia Band, which, from his peculiar fitness and attainments, became one of the best bands among the regular troops or militia in the kingdom. On the disembodiment of the regiment, his engagement with Lord Carington having ceased, his well-known reputation led to his instant appointment as master of the Royal Engineer Band.
135. Promoted to be sergeant. Was the principal non-commissioned officer in charge of the huts sent from this country to the Crimea; and was wounded severely in the assault on the Redan on the 8th September, 1855.
136. A man of unsteady propensities from a long residence at the Cape of Good Hope, where liquor is cheap. He is, however, a first-rate soldier and sapper, and his intrepid bearing in the trenches before Sebastopol, gained him a special medal “for distinguished service in the field,” and a gratuity of five pounds. Such notice accorded to him as one of sixteen out of a fighting force of about 900 men, may well excite his pride; and if there be a tide in the affairs of men, surely this proud incident will cause that turn, and so fashion his future career that it will be as remarkable in peace for temperance and good behaviour, as in battle for heroism.
137. Died in camp before Sebastopol, in January, 1855.
138. Sent to the Crimea as a submarine diver, and died in camp before Sebastopol, April, 1855.
139. Died in December, 1854, before Sebastopol of cholera.
140. Killed in the trenches at the siege of Sebastopol, July 17, 1855.
141. Now second sergeant-major of the corps at the Royal Engineer Establishment, Brompton.
142. Has been frequently noticed in these pages for his labours in the demolition of the ‘Royal George’ and ‘Edgar’ at Spithead.
143. June 12, 1854.
144. ‘United Service Gazette,’ June 17, 1854.
145. The ‘Times,’ June 29, 1854.
146. Ibid.
147. ‘Illustrated London News,’ August 5, 1854.
148. Soon after was advanced to the rank of corporal for his conduct at the siege of Sebastopol, and died of wounds received in the trenches, in May, 1855. One of his legs was amputated, from which, though he bore up for a few days, his exhausted strength did not permit him to rally.
149. The ‘Times,’ Sept. 15, 1854.
150. Ibid.
151. Ibid.
152. The ‘Times,’ Sept. 15, 1854.
153. Ibid.
154. Sergeant John F. Read, corporals William Harding, William Swann, and privates Robert M. Rylatt, Michael Westacott, and John Piper.
155. The ‘Times,’ Oct. 26, 1854, by the Author of ‘The Russian Empire.’
156. A few weeks before the Central Association commenced its humane operations, a fund was raised by Captain and Adjutant Somerset to aid the wives and children of men of the corps ordered to the East. The Central Association took its rise from a letter which appeared in the ‘Times’ on the 22nd February, 1854, on which date, singularly enough, Captain Somerset received the first subscriptions for his fund. As the working of this regimental charity could not but be limited, Captain Somerset did his best to lessen the chances of its being too soon exhausted. He therefore personally advised every married man before embarking, as to the course he ought to pursue during his absence from England, and obtained from him an agreement to make a monthly remittance, suitable to his means, for the support of his wife and family. This was not a difficult interference, for the men were only too anxious to make the utmost provision it was in their power to arrange. Of this regimental fund Captain Somerset had the entire charge. By his exertions it reached the sum of 240l.; of which 72l. were subscribed by the four survey companies. The rest was added by officers of the corps at home, a few companies of sappers, and the personal friends of the Adjutant. Its plan was to make advances—obtaining repayment of them by remittances from the seat of war; also to award donations, and to provide, in unforeseen circumstances, domestic troubles, sickness and death, such relief as the several cases needed, and which could only be met in this way. “The Somerset Fund,” so quiet and unpretending in its exercise, was of great benefit to the corps; and of about sixty women and nearly one hundred children who, by loans and grants, drew support from its means, not one ever had occasion to seek the cold shelter of a workhouse. With one or two exceptions, the wives of the sappers behaved with virtuous propriety during the absence of their husbands, and were a credit both to them and the corps.
The Central Association was a national undertaking, in which the wives and families of the corps, equally with those of the rest of the army, shared to the full extent of its numbers. It properly does not belong to this history to notice the gigantic operations of the Association, and the extraordinary good it achieved; but it may nevertheless be permitted to say, that the royal sappers and miners will ever retain a warm recollection of its beneficence, and cherish the name of Major the Hon. Henry Littleton Powys—the untiring advocate of protection to the soldier’s wife and family, and the gratuitous Honorary Secretary of the Association—with feelings of lasting gratitude.
157. Familiarly and indiscriminately called “Gordon’s battery or parallel,” “21-gun battery,” or “Frenchman’s Hill.”
158. Called “Chapman’s battery or parallel,” or “Green-hill.”
159. On the 18th October a 15-inch shell, termed “Whistling Dick,” struck the roof of a magazine in the 21-gun battery, and, in exploding, knocked down sergeant Morant and corporal George Pearson, burying them under a heap of sand-bags. The corporal soon struggled to his feet, but the sergeant, more severely stunned, was pulled from the mass by Lieutenant Murray of the engineers.
160. This corporal completed the tombstone placed over the remains of Colonel Hood and Captain Rowley; the latter was killed on the 16th. It consisted of a flat slab, which enclosed both graves; and a monumental cross at the head bore a well-cut inscription, which told of the melancholy fate of these noble officers.
161. ‘Quarterly Review,’ vol. xcv., p. 239.
162. This non-commissioned officer wrote some graphic and interesting letters about the siege, in one of which he says,—“After setting my working party to their task in the trenches, I went to the front to show corporal Kirkwood—a new arrival—the extent of our works, and to give him an introduction to Sebastopol. The trench in some places not being deep enough to cover us, we sometimes had to run along the top, and whenever we did so, the enemy peppered us well with grape and rifle bullets at about 300 yards. So I borrowed a Minié rifle from the 38th, and returned the compliment. This was the first time I had ever fired at a human being. Two 38th men loaded for me as fast as I could fire, and we soon cleared the embrasures of the Russian gunners; but they shot my comrade—a sergeant of the 38th—at my side. I bound up his wound with my handkerchief, and fired away again with his rifle. I have had many narrow escapes and much hard work, but I feel truly thankful to the Almighty for having brought me through all without a scratch. I hope soon to write to you from the imperial barracks inside Sebastopol. I hope,” says he, again, “we shall soon be allowed to storm. I could lead a party in by a short cut that I know of, and I think it would soon be over and the place ours.” The letters from which these extracts are taken were kindly lent for my perusal by an officer of the corps.
163. Was a well-educated and an active non-commissioned officer. For many years he was the confidential clerk of Sir Frederic Smith at Chatham, where, associating himself with a temperance society, he became an able advocate of its principles, and received from its members a silver medallion in testimony of his talented lectures on the subject. After serving a few years at Malta, he was sent to the Crimea; and in the trenches before Sebastopol, earned the good opinion of his officers for fearlessness, ability, and success as an overseer. At that time he was considered the ablest and readiest sergeant of sappers in the front. On the 10th of November he was wounded at the siege by a shot striking his shoulder, and breaking his collar-bone. The wound was an eccentric one. It did not draw blood, but made an insignificant contusion on the shoulder, from which it was expected that the injury was slight. It turned out otherwise. Removed on board the ‘Avon,’ he was much shaken in the storm of the 14th, and died of his wounds on the 22nd of November, off Scutari.
164. See Debates of 3rd March and 8th April, 1855. Also leaders in the ‘Times’ of 2nd and 23rd June, 1855. The leading article of the 23rd, while it vindicated the formation of the Army Works Corps as the readiest and best expedient under the circumstances of the pressure, and afforded reasons for assuming its superiority as a working force to the sappers, nevertheless made admissions which were highly commendatory to the latter.
165. The siege passed and peace returned without the chance of using them. Mr. Deane, the subaqueous engineer, was sent to the Crimea to carry out services in connection with his profession. After Sebastopol had fallen he recovered about thirteen guns sunk in the inner harbour. Private John Williams, an excellent diver, who had been employed at the ‘Royal George,’ under Sir Charles Pasley, pushed into the idle dress one day when Mr. Deane was away and dived, bringing up, as the fruit of his exertions, a brass 8-pounder field-piece and a gun-carriage, with harness for horses attached. This was the only opportunity, and a stolen one it was, that he, or any sapper, had of proving his efficiency in submarine operations.
166. Granted by the Queen under authority, dated 12th January, 1855. See ante, pp. 185-187.
167. The bridge was thrown, under the direction of Major Bent, by the sappers and miners, and a party of French pontoneers. The duty of the seamen was confined to the nautical arrangements for the undertaking, which comprised the labour of bringing the boats and securing them stem and stern.
168. During a night of searching cold, some sappers made a blaze with a few bits of broken gabions and fascines in the tool store in rear of No. 2 battery. It had nearly burnt out when private Corrigan going in for a warm, chided the men for not keeping up a better fire. “I know where some good charcoal can be found,” said he, and off he went to collect it, bringing in with him, soon after, a number of nice little balls, firmly compacted and crisped with the frost. “Now for it,” said the firemaster, impressed with the importance of his success, and speaking contemptuously of the discrimination of his comrades, “we shall soon have a fire worth looking at.” With the confidence of one proud of his discovery he stirred up the sticks, and throwing a few pieces of the compound on the expiring embers, they soon ignited, and to the unutterable amazement of the group, exploded! Corrigan had perhaps the greatest reason to be astonished at the treacherous behaviour of his “patent fuel,” for besides having the hair of his head, moustache, and beard burnt to the roots, his face was so scorched and scarified, it took three weeks to cure him of an injury which the Doctors had latinized into “Ambustio.” The ingredient with which Corrigan hoped to make a roaring bivouac fire, consisted of some damaged powder which, removed from the magazine of No. 2 battery, had been thrown loosely over the ground, and, in mingling with the mud, had in time solidified into lumps wearing those pleasing characteristics which, in intense cold weather, was so apt to deceive a poor shivering soul. Ever after, whatever expedients the sappers employed to light their trench fires, they took care not to be beguiled into the use of “Corrigan’s charcoal.”
169. Letter from Sir John Burgoyne, dated 5th February, 1855.
170. The Commissioners, sent to the Crimea to inquire into certain matters of mismanagement, in their Second Report, dated January, 1856, stated, that “the date at which the hutting commenced was in no case earlier than the end of January or beginning of February, and it was not completed before the end of March.” This information, obtained from evidences, who no doubt spoke from recollection, is certainly incorrect.
171. A party of French sappers arrived at Southampton early in December, 1854, to superintend the embarkation of huts for the Imperial army in the Crimea. From the moment of their landing they were shown every respect by the British sappers in that city, and, moreover, provided by them with a generous entertainment at the Floating House Tavern. The meeting was one of unmixed friendship, as if there never had been, between the nations, any differences or dissimilar sympathies to mar its cordiality. Two corps of neighbouring nations, bearing corresponding names, socially joined at the same feast, is perhaps a unique incident. The guests were represented by Mons. Von Doyson and sergeant Tagnier, whose speeches, with those of sergeant-major Steel, quartermaster-sergeant Simpson, and colour-sergeant Spencer, were warm and fraternal. The toasts were such as might have been expected in so loyal a gathering. After shipping no less than 1,850 huts to accommodate 45,000 men, the French sappers sailed for Sebastopol in January, 1855.
172. Killed at the assault of the Rifle-pits 19th April.
173. The cross bore this simple epitaph:—“To the memory of a Captain, a Comrade, and a Friend; Captain A. D. Craigie, Royal Engineers, killed by the bursting of a shell, March 13, 1855.” Corporal Geo. H. Collins fashioned the cross and cut the inscription.
174. April 24, 1855.
175. Dispatch, 10th April, 1855.
176. ‘Times,’ April 26, 1855.
177. Captain, now Major Ewart, R.E., the sapper Adjutant in the Crimea.
178. ‘Times,’ April 26, 1855.
179. Light Division orders by Lieut.-General Sir George Brown, dated 16th April, 1855, taken from Captain Owen’s report to Major-General Jones two days earlier.
180. Some young officers—sportive yet enterprising—hearing of the nearness of the Russians to our works, paid a visit to the lodgment, bringing with them loaded soda-water bottles prepared with fuzes. As occasion served they lighted these improviséd grenades, and threw them among the enemy’s riflemen in the pit. The effect was to increase the fire on the sappers and retard the work. In self-defence the sergeant was compelled to report the annoyance, and the General of the trenches gave orders that none should enter the pits except on duty.
A Polish refugee, belonging to a fusilier regiment, also came to the screen under the auspices of the young officers aforesaid. A hole was made for him to speak through, and addressing the Russians in their own language, his jargon was discourteously treated with laughter and a few angry shots. Renewing the interview the fusilier, after saying some extravagant things to induce the riflemen to desert, concluded by intimating “they were great fools to remain where they were.” Another volley was the result of this candid but indiscreet communication; and of course the Pole was forthwith expelled from the trench.
181. This suggests the mention of a brief conversation which occurred one day between Colonel Shadforth and lance-corporal Jenkins. “How is it,” asked the Colonel, “that so few sappers die?” “They hav’nt time,” replied the corporal; “there’s too much work for them to do in the trenches!” A stiff glass of grog from the officer’s canteen was the result of Jenkins’s rejoinder, which would have been strictly true, had the question been asked with respect to the primitive state of the sapper camp.
182. Sir John Burgoyne in letter to the ‘Times,’ May, 1855.
183. The means taken to preserve the engineer mules was referred to in the Second Report of Sir John McNeill and Colonel Tulloch to the War Minister, as an instance of what other troops might have done had they exercised common “promptitude or ingenuity.” It afterwards became a vexed question, and a Court of Enquiry, conducted by seven distinguished General Officers, sat for many weeks at Chelsea Hospital, to ascertain, among other matters, whether any blame was fairly attributable to the officers in chief command for neglecting the use of expedients to save the horses. The enquiry terminated fully exculpating the officers.
184. Gunner Burke, of the royal artillery, also assisted in repairing an embrasure under the heaviest fire in No. 14 battery of the right attack, and Lord Raglan rewarded him, like the sappers, with a present of two sovereigns.
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.
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.