187. ‘United Service Magazine,’ September 1856, p. 23.

188. A Russian officer who could speak English fluently had charge of a searching party to collect the dead. Entering freely into conversation with an officer of the 14th foot, he expressed a hope that the day would soon come when the belligerents would again be cordial friends. Warming with the occasion he asked the officer and his men if they were disposed to make any exchanges with him as pledges of the interview and probably hereafter of recognition. Corporal R. Jasper Fitzgerald of the third company, was specially spoken to by the Russian; and feeling in his pockets to meet the wishes of the inquirer, mentioned his regret that he had nothing to offer except a penny. “Let me see it,” said he, and Fitzgerald at once presented it. “Ah!” exclaimed the Russian officer with evident pleasure, “It’s one of old George’s! If this is a fair exchange you are welcome to it.” And the good-natured officer handed Fitzgerald a handsome silver devotional cross. To the British officer he gave a silver snuff-box.

In the peregrinations Fitzgerald felt it desirable to make to increase his acquaintance with the locality, thinking it not improbable he might soon have a “job” there, he entered a house near the cemetery, and not wishing to quit it without some memento of his visit, nothing apparently turned up for acceptance more valuable or less portable than a sofa! A burly sailor and he shouldered the huge piece of Russian furniture and stumped away with it wonderfully tickled with the idea of the fun it would occasion when they reached the trenches; but while jogging on, an alarm being given of the termination of the truce, the bearers instantly dropped the “family seat” and run for their lives. The alarm proved to be a false one, and Fitzgerald and the jolly Tar, having like coursers retraced their steps to recover the spoil, found that swifter feet than theirs had taken a fancy to the prize and vanished with it.

189. The corporal belonged to Captain Brine’s company. With a warm appreciation of military merit, the lady of the Captain presented Collins with a miniature legion of honour, in order to impress the Queen, when she reviewed three of the Crimean companies at Aldershot, with a more adequate notion of his services than would have been conveyed to Her Majesty had he only worn the ribbon of a chevalier. At that time the French decorations had not been issued to the troops.

He had a brother with him in the Crimea, so exactly like himself in face, figure, and speech, it was perplexing to say which was Joseph which George. The old story of the two Dromios, to a certain extent, was acted over again in their persons. Both were useful and brave; neither more so than the other. Joseph obtained all the honours which a gallant soldier could claim and to which he was fully entitled, but George seemed to have been totally eclipsed, no one could explain how, by his brother. Joseph, indeed, was considered to be George, and George the veritable Joseph; and so in this “Comedy of Errors,” George, by the misfortune of resemblance to his brother, was lost among the undecorated.

It is almost a marvel to add, that Joseph, though a first corporal, wearing orders that none of his rank had obtained, deserted from the corps soon after landing in this country from Sebastopol.

190. Corporal Cann continued at Ismid till May, 1856, when the troops were withdrawn. “He had for the last few months sole charge and direction of the various works required at that station, and fulfilled that charge in a most satisfactory manner.” Such was the report of Major E. C. A. Gordon, of the engineers.

191. The concentration of the companies on the left, proved to be very fortunate, for they escaped a terrible catastrophe. The ground vacated by them was soon after occupied by the artillery and small arm brigade. When the explosion of the French magazines in the Ravin du Carénage took place in November, 1855, the shock, chiefly felt by the artillery, resulted in a loss to that regiment of 52 killed and wounded out of a roll of casualties numbering 146 of all ranks. The engineer park took fire at the time, but not a sapper was touched.

192. When Cray arrived at the front, Jenkins, by order, took him round the trenches, so that when it should become his turn for duty he might know the several works and the points where danger most existed. They had gone into the fifth parallel by the left approach, and were leaving it by the right one, which had a parapet so low it would scarcely cover a crow. “You must look alive here,” said Jenkins, “or we shall get a knock.” Off Jenkins started, rushing down an enfiladed piece of the trench, and creeping on all-fours where the cover was insufficient. His movements were seen by the Russian riflemen, and a few unavailing shots told of their vigilance. It was now Cray’s turn to move, but declining to follow the crafty progress of his experienced cicerone, he preferred to make a rush into the completed boyau; but he had scarcely taken a step beyond the parallel, when a tempest of bullets overtook him. With alarming nearness they whistled about his head, and feeling the hot wind of a Minié brushing his nose, as if an iron feather had rasped it, he fancied that that prominent feature of his countenance had been shot off. The delusion was but momentary, for another mishap occurred to drive away the unpleasant sensation which the first had created. As he was bounding into deeper cover his foot tripped and down he fell with a crash, which quite upset the gravity of the guide and the blasters in the parallel.

“I thought you were done for,” said Jenkins, as Cray crawled up to him, every muscle of his face in laughing activity.

“Not yet,” replied Cray. “It was near enough though to make the escape a miracle.” He then added, with a significant smile,—“Some lucky Russian, no doubt, will be decorated with a distinguished service medal for killing me!”

193. The most remarkable instance perhaps occurred on the 17th October. The second gabion from the neck of the left cheek of an embrasure in No. 2 battery was injured by two shots, and pushed so far from the row as to interfere with the firing. Jenkins tried to remove it, but finding from the strong way in which it had been staked and the earth tamped on it, that more than extra exertion was needed to pull it out, he placed his broad back against the right cheek, and with his leg pressing against the left, hauled with all his might on the gabion. While doing so an 8-inch shot swept through his legs with a velocity so great that the wind of it struck him powerless for a few moments. On went the shot, and smashing one of the wheels of a gun-carriage, threw the gun out of action for the remainder of the day.

194. From the second parallel of the left attack ran several boyaux to the third parallel. The angle of the trench where the fourth and fifth zigzags joined, was a very dangerous corner, and many a man in rounding it had been killed or wounded. Early in June when corporal Jenkins was passing with Major Chapman of the 20th regiment, this little “shadow of death,” a few rifle bullets whistled so near their ears that their escape was next to extraordinary. Looking up to ascertain the cause of this reception, the Major said, with a good-humoured smile, “I shall not come here again with you, Jenkins, if you wear that swell band on your cap.” The band was a white one.

195. ‘Nav. and Mil. Gaz.,’ September 15, 1855.

196. When lying wounded, sergeant-major Jamieson passed him. “Well, sergeant-major,” said he, holding up his shattered hand, “this will ruin Chelsea Hospital!” meaning, in a satirical sense, that the extravagant pension he would receive would throw the hospital into a state of insolvency. He was discharged from the corps with a pension of eightpence a-day.

197. Sir Harry Jones, in his report of the 9th September, thus wrote of the corporal’s exploit:—“General Simpson determined to renew the assault at daybreak the following morning, but during the night a corporal of sappers conceiving that the enemy had retired from the Redan, crept forward and ascertained such to be the case; as soon as this information was received, orders were sent to re-occupy the Redan.”

198. Distinguished at the battle of Giurgevo for his gallantry. A fine, handsome soldier, he was admired by both officers and men. When work had to be done, he would toil like a slave to accomplish it; and when duty demanded his services he was never absent. His propensity to drink, however, placed it out of the power of his officers to award him promotion. At the Cape of Good Hope, he earned a medal for his services in the Kaffir war of 1846-47, and received another medal and a second-class prize for his conduct and usefulness at the Great Exhibition of 1851. He was employed in that duty at the instigation of Major Bent, who generously became surety for his good behaviour. Well did he support the Major’s recommendation; but on his removal from London at the close of the Exhibition, he soon relapsed into his former habits. His bravery in the battle of Giurgevo is already told; and the decoration of the order of the Medjidie, placed on his breast by Omar Pacha—a distinction never before conferred on one of so humble a rank—failed to inspire him with sufficient pride to curb his excesses; and there is reason to fear, that his melancholy fate was brought on by his infatuated indulgence.

199. A few cases occurred in which the rank of sergeant was attained by a junior non-commissioned officer within eighteen months. Samuel Cole is an instance. He went to the Crimea a young second corporal, but so conspicuous was his conduct in the trenches, and so sustained his usefulness and gallantry, that besides the grant of pecuniary rewards, a special medal for distinguished service, and the Order of the Legion of Honour, he was promoted successively to the ranks of corporal and sergeant. Of him Colonel Gordon wrote on the 6th December, 1855, that he was one of the “most distinguished in the corps for bravery and had just received a step of rank”—that of sergeant—“for very distinguished service in the field.”

200. From a feeling of kindness, as modest as generous in its exercise, Major Ranken of the engineers, who fell soon after, buried under the ruins of the White Barracks in the Karabelnaia, presented Cornet Falkner with a grey pony. In asking his acceptance of it, the Major thus concluded his note: “I feel a pleasure in offering it to you as I am enabled thereby to mark my sense of your good services while attached to the company under my command.”

201. General Order, 24th October, 1855.

202. General Order, 20th November, 1855.

203. To remove the gates without injury, under fire from the north side of the harbour, was a tedious service. In each half gate, weighing about thirty tons, there were no less than 1720 rivets, every head of which had to be cut off and the pins punched out. Every screw had also to be removed by the usual means—a difficult process, arising from the oxidation of the several parts. The sheets were cut into twelve pieces for easy carriage. The iron girders, twelve in number, which like ribs sustained the structure, were drawn up by block and tackle; and then, lowered to rollers, were conveyed away. The greatest efforts were given in pulling up the heel-posts, of which there were two; and the strong unyielding haul of 150 men brought them without flaw from their rocky beds. One of the girders was broken in rolling it away, but its place was supplied by one from another gate. This was the only accident which had occurred during the operation. Sergeant John Docherty was Colonel Bent’s foreman. An average of five sapper blacksmiths were daily employed at the work. Mr. Rumble, engineer of the ‘London,’ with two seamen, assisted until their removal to Malta. Some handy blacksmiths of the artillery also aided, and sergeant Welton of that regiment was remarkably active with the gear and tackling.

204. December 7, 1855.

205. The ‘Times,’ February 11, 1856.

206. The sappers continued mining in the docks until the 6th February, and afterwards at the White Barracks, till they were blown down.

207. This number would have been more correct had it been 185.

208. “I think,” wrote Lady Georgina Cathcart, in returning thanks to the fourth division, at whose expense the memorial was erected, “the whole design handsome. The manner in which it has been executed, of solid and durable granite, in the midst of many difficulties and dangers, as well as privations, reflects great credit on all those engaged in it, and for which we feel most grateful.”

209. The Balaklava monument was enclosed within an iron handrail of twelve bars taken from the bridge on the locks across the docks of Sebastopol. Its epitaphs run thus:—“In memory of those who fell in the battle of Balaklava, 25th October, 1854.” This was on one panel. On another was cut the words—“Erected by the British army, A. D. 1856.” On the third, occurred both these records in Russian; and on the fourth was a sunken cross. Corporal Cameron was overseer of the work.

The Inkermann monument was thus inscribed:—“In memory of the English, French, and Russians who fell in the battle of Inkermann, 5th November, 1854.” Sergeant McQuillin was the overseer and corporal Cameron the leading mason.

The Redan one bore this, as its principal epitaph:—“In memory of those who fell in the trenches and assaults upon the Redan, 1855.” Corporal John Ross, of the second company, was the foreman.

The two latter monuments announced that they had been “Erected by the British army, A. D. 1856.” On the third panel the inscriptions were repeated in Russian, and on the fourth was a cross—in relievo—bearing the Christian initials of I.H.S. for the Inkermann monument, and a sunken cross for that at the Redan.

210. One was of marble, not worked in the Crimea, and the other of freestone. The first bore an epitaph in English; the latter in Russian. The Russian one was lettered by private D. Thompson. A large slab, seven feet by three feet three, was also laid to the memory of his Lordship, under a willow-tree, by a well in the hollow in front of head-quarters. It was placed there by Lieutenant Brine, at the request of Lieut.-Colonel the Hon. Leicester Curzon of the rifle brigade, and bore this simple epitaph:—“To the memory of Field Marshal Lord Raglan, G.C.B., Commander-in-Chief of the British army in the Crimea. Died 28th June, 1855.” This inscription was cut by Thompson and private James Dickson.

211. By command of the Queen, Colonel Phipps presented the sum of five pounds to corporal Mack, “as a mark of Her Majesty’s approval of the execution of the photographs.”

212. On that day foot races and games were carried on at Chatham, which drew thousands of holiday people to the lines to witness them. The races were so arranged that each of the principal services in garrison should win a prize. These were the royal sappers and miners, provisional battalion, royal marines, and medical staff corps. Each corps in turn ran its own approved racers, and the best man among them received a reward. The successful competitors afterwards drew up on the course in aerial costume—the representatives of their regiments—whose athletic reputation seemed to depend on their energies and success. With significant but pardonable conceit and confidence they took their stations, all certain of winning. They started—their pace was beautiful. Well together, it was difficult to say who would first reach the goal, but corporal Pennington of the sappers, rushing ahead with the swiftness of the wind, flew past the winning post cleverly by several yards and bore away the “Champion’s belt,” thus inaugurating by his conquest the altered designation of the royal sappers and miners.

213. ‘Aide Memoire,’ iii., p. 612.

214. Ibid., p. 613.

215. ‘Aide Memoire,’ iii., p. 613.

216. Ibid., iii., p. 613.

217. Appendix H. p. 1055.

218. The above detail is the last official statement published.

219. Vol. iii., p. 614.

220. Private James Weir was perhaps the most daring sapper in building stages for the observatories. Like the chamois he could climb heights almost inaccessible, and stand or sit at work on ledges, copings, pinnacles, vanes, and pieces of timber, where scarcely any human being would dare to venture without all the accessories and appliances which precaution could command for insuring safety and preventing alarm. At Ely minster, the tower of which is about 200 feet high, and at Norwich cathedral, the spire of which is the most elevated in England, being 327 feet from the ground, he was as agile and self-possessed as in an ordinary workshop. At Norwich spire, a brace broke under him, and he fell a distance of nine feet, but in his descent he caught hold of another brace, and thus saved his life. The accident did not in the least daunt him, for the next moment he was at work again, as cool and as brisk as ever. At Keysoe, in Bedfordshire, the builder who contracted to take down a portion of the spire was about to relinquish his engagement as hopeless, but our adventurous scaffold-builder was lent for the occasion, and the removal was soon accomplished. Weir took up his ladders and fixed them, but before placing the last one, he climbed the spire, unaided by scaffolding or supports, and, to crown his success, took off the vane, and brought it down with him. He achieved a still bolder feat at Swaffham in Norfolk. Upon a projecting joist which he had fixed, the dimensions of which were four inches wide by twelve feet long, he walked steadily forward to its end, at a height of about 120 feet, and with astounding coolness and dexterity performed his hazardous duty. At Thaxted, in Essex, he climbed the outside of the spire by the crockets, and at the giddy altitude of about 210 feet from the ground, sat upon the creaking vane, and whirled himself round upon its grating pivot. This was on the 11th April, 1844. A drawing of the scaffold and stage was given in the ‘Illustrated London News’ of that date. At Danbury, in July, 1844, his services were very distinguished. To take the initiative or first step in any one of these perilous services was always the most important task; but however difficult or dangerous it promised to be, Weir never shrank from its performance. Climbing the inside of the steeple, he reached its topmost sounding aperture, in which he secured a piece of timber. This projected some feet beyond the spire. Upon the end of this joist he stood, and after hauling up a ladder, fixed it upon the projecting timber, and then ascended by the shaking ladder to the top of the spire. There he hauled up the block and tackle, made it fast to the steeple, and descended amid the cheers and wonder of the crowd who witnessed his fearful exploits. The services of this daring man were frequently alluded to with especial particularity by the provincial press, and alike insured the applause of his comrades and the approbation of his officers. He afterwards served on the exploration survey for a railway in North America. In May, 1848, he purchased his discharge, and set himself up in business in Halifax, Nova Scotia. His industry and mechanical ingenuity soon brought him success in his new line of life, and he received the appointment of superintendent to the Water Company in that town, which he fulfilled, at a salary with other emoluments, of about 200l. a-year. On receiving this appointment the company purchased his stock of goods from him for about 700l., and he bids fair, in a few years, to be a wealthy man.

221. ‘Army and Ordnance Exp.,’ 1849, p. 503.

222. Colonel James, ‘On the figure, dimensions, and mean specific gravity of the Earth,’ read before the Royal Society, May 8, 1856.

223. ‘Professional Papers, R.E.,’ N. S., iii., p. xxiii.

224. Sergeant Robert Meade is perhaps the most distinguished in this department of duty; for, combining the powers of a ready intellect and keen perception with unsparing assiduity and patience, he has succeeded in unravelling some extraordinary cases. Skelton in Cleveland, Yorkshire, in which had existed a dispute from time immemorial affecting the legal appropriation of nearly 2,000 acres of moor and enclosed lands, was decided, on his exposition, by the officer intrusted with the responsibility; and the boundary between the townships of Ryhill and Camerton, in the same county, was altogether unknown to the authorities of the respective townships till he obtained access to some old documents, which enabled him to mark out the ancient line of boundary. Indeed, it may here be added, that scarcely a single township is perambulated without the non-commissioned officer finding it necessary to rectify some error in the rating of lands and premises, or to draw up a report, detailing the circumstances of some feud between neighbouring parishes, respecting boundaries or parochial apportionments.

225. ‘Army and Ordnance Exp.,’ 1849, App. H, p. 1056. This is the last official statement published. It was wished to afford a similar statement, to the latest cardinal date in these records, but the information could not be procured.

226. ‘Aide Memoire, R.E.,’ iii., p. 613.

227. ‘Companion to the British Almanac,’ 1849, p. 37.

228. ‘Hampshire Advertiser,’ January 17, 1852.

229. ‘Hampshire Chronicle,’ March 13, 1852.

230. ‘Hampshire Advertiser,’ March 31, 1855.

231. See illustration of the encampment at Creach Ben, ‘Aide Memoire,’ iii., p. 614.

232. It would be a pity to overlook the notice of an incident which occurred in connection with this astronomical service. When Steel left Southampton it was arranged he should hut himself with Mr. Donelan—formerly of the sappers—till the latter had finished his azimuthal duties on Ben Lomond, and then post away to Arthur’s Seat with Donelan’s barometer, chronometer, camp and party. Meanwhile a change was decided on—Donelan remained on the mountain with his instruments and party, and Steel shot off to Edinburgh. He could not however proceed with the observations without a chronometer, and as time was pressing, he could not wait till one were conveyed to him from the map office. Calling upon the Astronomer Royal with a credential from Captain Kerr of the royal engineers, Steel solicited the loan of a chronometer to enable him at once to commence operations. Very few instruments had the professor which were not in actual use, and except a pocket chronometer he had no instrument measuring sidereal time such as Steel wanted. Strongly interested in a matter so important, the professor was determined, could Edinburgh prevent it, that the sergeant should not be delayed an instant; and accordingly he wrote to the principal opticians—Adie and Son—and to Mr. Bryson, the chief clockmaker, begging, “for the scientific credit of the city of Edinburgh,” that the sergeant should be temporarily furnished with the instruments he required. Whatever could be given was readily placed at the service of the military astronomer, but, it was not in the power of the Scotch metropolis—learned and scientific as are its sons—to supply a sidereal chronometer! To make the best amends for the absence of so indispensable an accessory, the obliging professor, although he daily used his own pocket chronometer, lent it to the sergeant for one week, by which time an efficient instrument had reached him from Southampton.

233. Colonel James, ‘On the deflection of the plumb-line at Arthur’s Seat,’ read before the Royal Society, February 21, 1856.

234. The full report is given in the ‘Hampshire Independent,’ December 8, 1849.

235. ‘Lough Foyle Base,’ by Captain Yolland, R.E., pp. 147-149.

236. Ibid., p. 151.

237. ‘Lough Foyle Base,’ Pref., viii.

238. Appointed Assistant-Director, 16th March, 1815.

239. Officers not included.

240. 35 excess.

241. 15 excess.

242. 9 excess.

243. 24 excess.

244. No returns have been prepared since 31st March, 1854.