Hurricane hits the Camp before Sevastopol, 14th November 1854
I have already alluded to the bad consequences of the hurricane on 14th Nov. It had been raining very hard & the soil is peculiar, consisting of a soft stone which made digging very troublesome so that it was difficult to throw up our trenches, whilst with water & much friction such as walking, it worked up into a sort of thick clayey mud, so the ground was like a sponge & made my first night in the trenches not the most pleasant in my life. However, I managed to get some sleep when it was not my turn to watch & my waterproof sheet was invaluable. The sentries had to be visited & such little amusements passed the night. However, during the day we had to lie very close & as it rained with only occasional pauses, we could neither eat our biscuit & salt pork or drink our rum with the pleasure we otherwise might have.
At last night came & we were relieved at 6.30, it being impossible to move down during the daylight as we should suffer from the Russian batteries. Being regularly done up, I turned in as soon as I had had a cup of hot coffee. It rained too hard for us to turn out the next morning at 5. (Since the battle of Inkerman, it had become the practice to turn out the whole army half an hour before daylight & remain under arms until the Generals were satisfied no attack was threatened.) So the men remained in their tents with their arms in their hands until we received order to dismiss.
I thought it sounded rather gusty, but imagine my surprise when the tent pole suddenly gave way & down went the tent, dragging the wet canvas over me & then rolling up round Eccles, my tent-mate. It left me exposed just as I was sitting in bed. I got thoroughly soaked before I could get dressed, altho’ being turned out when the alarm sounds, 4 or 5 times every day or night teaches one to dress in a wonderfully short time. We then released Eccles from his position & with 4 men holding on to the tent, we managed to keep it up whilst I packed up all my traps & rolled up my bed, & then we struck the tent leaving the canvas bottom fastened, but doing away with the pole, having first folded my waterproof sheet over my saddle bags to keep them dry. It still continued blowing & a perfect hurricane came on.
Not a tent was left standing in our camp & all the regiments were in the same predicament, the General’s having been blown out too, & there we all were. Biscuit, which was the only thing to eat, was our breakfast. But fortunately, after about five hours it blew rather less & we managed to raise our tent, & taking it in turn to hold on by the pole, we got some protection from the rain.
It afterwards came on to snow & we felt how thankful we ought to be that our pole was not broken as were a great many, for there was no replacing them. (We had no stores from which to draw & no woods where we could cut). But such a time of misery I do not think was ever passed by such a large body of men as by the allied army during that hurricane. It was piercingly cold & the rain quite cut us in the face & hands.
To many of the army departments, the hurricane was a perfect godsend. During the confusion consequent on landing, accurate returns of issues of stores could not well be kept. But the civilian clerks at the English War Office expected as many forms & returns filled up & sent in as if the work was done in an ordinary barrack. The gale settled all this. The invariable reply to all complaints as to deficient accounts was that ‘the papers were blown away in the hurricane of 14th Nov.’
Friendly fire
We had to go to the most advanced trenches near, or rather in front of the place that had been taken from the enemy a few nights before by a party of the Rifles. We, that is a Lieutenant, * with me as his subaltern & 45 men were in the trench nearest the enemy. About 150 yards behind us was a Captain with 50 men & again, about 300 yards further back were two captains & 50 men. Of course, as we were not 300 yards from Sevastopol & the enemy were moving about close in our front, we were obliged to be very cautious & we had sentries out who had orders to fire on anything moving in front. At the same time, we in our party had to remain awake the whole time.
After we had been there about 3 hours, we heard shots fired in the direction of our sentries. Of course ‘Be ready with your arms, men’ was the caution passed down, when it turned out that one of our sentries had moved to the front, wishing to make certain there was no one behind a bush. As he was returning, a shell from the Russians burst near him, so that the other sentries, by the light given, saw a man creeping up. They at once challenged, & receiving no answer, fired immediately & retired, thinking that the enemy were upon us. However we found out their mistake & went out, but found that they had aimed too well, for the unfortunate man was shot through the heart. We brought his body in however & sent it up to the camp.
However the Russians, having got their direction from the flashes of our sentries’ muskets, gave us some pretty strong doses of grape & shell, fortunately without doing us any harm. This was from a battery of theirs which was very much to our right, so that they almost enfiladed us. At the same time a body of infantry came up in front & began by a volley, fortunately over our heads. Our men returned it & as it was too dark to see the enemy, firing at the flashes of their muskets.
By the number of bullets that passed over us & by the fire they kept up, they must have been about 4 to 1 of us, & from the whistle of the bullets, about one third of the Russians must have had rifles, while all our men have them. But of course, in chance shooting like that, it does not make the difference it otherwise would. However a working party of the 57th – 50 men – came up & when the enemy found our fire increasing, he began to turn tail, so that after half an hour’s work we got rid of them & enabled the 57th to go on with their work again.
Russian attack on his position
We were left alone then for the greater part of the night & the working party, having done whatever they had to do, went back to camp, when about 5 o’clock a.m. just when we were expecting to be relieved, a body, & seemingly a large body, of the enemy came up the hill & opened fire on us. We returned it as well as our small body of men could. They, the enemy, behaved very pluckily, coming up to within 30 yards of our trench. So close indeed that the other officer fired at one man with his revolver, but two barrels missing fire, he was put off his aim & I am afraid did not knock the man over with the third, which went off.
While we thus firing away & expecting that our men who were in the trenches behind would be coming up to support us, we were rather disagreeably surprised to be told by a serjeant who came up that a body of Rifles who had relieved our men in the trenches behind, had withdrawn: that twenty of the Rifles had been detached to relieve us in the advance trench & that as soon as the fire slackened they would come up. This was not pleasing intelligence as our men had fired away nearly all their ammunition & were even then reserving their fire in case of the enemy coming nearer. I did not fire my pistol as we thought they might make a bold dash for the trench & in that case I could probably answer for 5 Russians, when otherwise I should be wasting my fire. However, when daylight broke they probably found our men too good marksmen, for they retired down hill & took shelter in a house on the opposite side of the ravine, from which they came out & fired on our men.
Rather to their astonishment & to our delight, a shell thrown from a battery of ours called the ‘New Battery’ & which we had lately given up to the French, flew right into the middle of the house & immediately burst. After that we were not annoyed by its occupants but by Russian riflemen lining a wall on the opposite rise. As we had only small arms fire to bring against them, they were pretty safe, while they galled our zig-zag approaches by an enfilade fire at rather a long range; 600 yards about. Soon afterwards two men came up to me wounded; one with his jaw broken. We told him to make the best of his way home. The other was shot through the shoulder. We tied up the top of his arm as he said it was there. I gave him a glass of rum & off he started on his way home.
Soon afterwards a few of the Rifles came up & we had to run the gauntlet over about a quarter of a mile of ground exposed to the aim of the Russian rifles & to their grape etc. which was flying about pretty thick. Our men wanted to give the enemy cold steel before they left but we were too weak to try that. But I must say I would rather go towards the enemy in a shower of bullets etc. than run away for a quarter. For running away it appeared to be when they were firing at me from behind. However, I had my blanket thrown over one shoulder & fastened under the other arm, the usual way we carry them on service & as it had been raining all night the blanket was very wet, so I pulled it well up behind my head determined that any lead that wanted to try the thickness of my skull should try that of the blanket first.
After about half an hour, our men having run across the open one by one, only one man having been shot (through the body – he died the same evening), we fell in & marched home, utterly done & arrived two hours & a half after the parties that had been behind us in the trenches. Of course the senior officer reported our action to the colonel, & a court of enquiry was held to find out how the first man was shot. They found out that it was an accident, but brought about by over-zeal on his part.
The proceedings were sent to General Eyre, our brigadier, who returned them with a letter which was read to the men engaged, complimenting us for the way in which we had driven back a very superior force of the enemy, & that he would certainly send in a special report of it to Lord Raglan & the same night the Colonel put in regimental orders the names of all the men engaged, praising them very much for their conduct in this ‘very smart & creditable little skirmish’, so that I smelt powder for the first time & got favourable mention made of my name to Lord Raglan. Very lucky, was I not?
Looking now over my letters I notice that, while we were all in earnest & determined to go through with our work, we bitterly resented the public utterances of the authorities in England that they had provided for all our wants & had furnished us with all sorts of comforts as warm clothing shelter in the shape of huts etc. On 29th Decr I wrote giving a description of a night in the trenches when it froze so hard we suffered very much altho’ we never remained still for more than half an hour at a time. I mention that some of our men had received a second blanket (the first being nearly worn out), 25 over great coats were issued to the whole regiment (that is, 3 to each company of 80 or 90 men) & at last each man got a woollen jersey, pair of drawers, & pair of socks – for up to this time, they had only their cotton shirts, summer serge trousers & their baize coats (now worn to rags). It was while we were enduring all this that officials in their places in Parliament complacently assured the British public that we were well fed, clothed, and hutted.
* Lieutenant – Lieutenant Robertson
Debate over red coats v khaki
There is great talk just now of putting the British soldier into a less conspicuous dress than a red coat, but our views in the Crimean days were different. The men coming from the trenches & the men suddenly turned out in the wet November morning had worn their great coats at the battle of Inkerman & it was a not uncommon belief that we had not been able to distinguish our own men & had fired into parties of them.
So strongly was this believed that it was understood if we went into action again in a deliberate stand up fight we should wear red without overcoats & our parades were therefore held in red coats that we might always be in readiness to repel any attack.
Buried in the trench
On one occasion we had been in the advance trenches & constantly on the alert all night & were placed in the area trenches where we were more quiet during the following day. I had a quiet nap & had eaten my ration dinner & stowed myself in a snug place out of the wind between the battery parapet & a traverse which is a mound placed at right angles to the parapet to prevent the enemy firing at the sides of the guns. A passage about a yard wide is left between the two.
I had a book with me. My back was to the traverse in which I was engrossed, when a shot ‘whirred’ over & some dirt fell on my book. But as we were pretty well accustomed to shot knocking the dirt off the parapet over us, I knocked the dirt off & went on quietly reading, when a loud explosion close to me occurred & I was knocked down & buried under earth & filled sandbags. My cap was blown some distance & the next I knew I was surrounded by a few of our men & blue jackets (we were in a Jack battery).
I was not very clear at the time as to what happened next. I must have been knocked stupid but my men afterwards told me that they & the blue jackets ran together to where I was & only my legs were visible which the blue jackets at once took hold of to haul me out.
My men insisted on moving the earth although the Jacks asserted the poor beggar was dead & it was no use taking the trouble. However our men insisted & they cleared me away & not a bone was broken. Whereas if the sailors had had their way my neck must have been broken as there was an enormous quantity of earth over me.
On examination it turned out that a shell had come in through the next embrasure & lodged in the traverse within a foot of my head. Its very nearness in exploding had saved me rather surrounding me with earth than throwing it on me with any force. It was a close shave. I declined to make the trip home on a stretcher & stayed with my party till we were relieved at night but had too heavy a shaking to be of much use for a day or two.
Transport difficulties between Balaclava and the camps
A good many of our siege guns became stuck in the mud between our camp & Balaclava & our artillery horses were so miserably weak that I almost doubted their getting them up, unless we had a total change in the weather.
Forage in the shape of barley & chopped straw was allowed to each officer who was expected, & indeed required, to provide a baggage animal, usually a pony or a mule, but where were the animals to be obtained. The force originally formed in Turkey had supplied themselves there & the animals were temporarily left behind at Varna & then sent on to join their owners. But we newcomers also wanted animals & I at once began my enquiries. I was immediately referred to the camp of the Naval Brigade.
The blue jacket in those days had an idea that he came on shore for a lark & the necessary severe discipline of ‘board ship’ was decidedly relaxed when on land. The men came ashore to work their guns & indeed, in many cases, to bring them from the ships to the Batteries & the energy & pluck they displayed in hauling the guns across country or fighting them under heavy fire were just what one expects from British sailors. Their ways were not exactly our ways in many particulars but their reckless daring was beyond question.
One day, two blue jackets arrived with a very likely looking pony with a slight wound on its leg of which, after a good deal of chaffing, I became the owner in exchange for two sovereigns & a bottle of rum which, in readiness for such an eventuality I had saved from my rations. Of course, the question was put as to where they had got the pony & I was assured it had just come in from the Russian lines. All I can say is that I never found any owner of the animal which, with a little nursing & care, turned out a serviceable beast & carried many a load for me from Balaclava to the front.
The explanation really was that forage was very scarce at the front & that when an animal became disabled – that is to say required attention & was unable to earn its keep – it was at once turned adrift & a large number of our commissariat transport animals let go, as the transport Officers were glad to be relieved of the trouble of providing food for them. It was scandalously bad management but it was probably the cheapest thing they could do in the circumstances.
Our regimental transport arrangements had now utterly broken down. Our sick were accumulating & we had no means of moving them over the seven miles of mud which intervened between our camp & our ships. The seriously sick men were unable to sit on the horses during the exposed journey. Some were tied on. Others were held on by the cavalry soldiers, but it was soon found that this plan would not work. As the cavalry horses had got so weakened, that allowing for sick horses & those on duty, the cavalry were little more than able to carry up their own forage. Our ambulance wagons were only fit for paved roads. They were, so to speak, hospitals on wheels but quite unsuitable to swamps.
So the French lent us their mule litters which Algerian experience had taught them were the most suitable for rough roadless transport of sick & wounded. These were iron frames slung on each side of a stout mule, made either as chairs or as stretchers much such as are now used on many American railroads & known as reclining chairs which can be set at any angle, & in this way we were able to send a great many men to the ships & from the ships to Scutari near Constantinople where we had established our principal hospitals.
The hospital ships that carried these men were scandalously managed & really without any excuse. The less seriously sick were expected to attend on the more serious cases but as a matter of fact our doctors sent no-one away who could help himself. Consequently the worst cases received no attention except such as the overworked doctor could personally give.
The men sent down sick had no change of clothing, were unable even to look after their blankets or feeding appliances & lay on the deck just where they were placed when carried on board until they were carried ashore at Constantinople or thrown overboard if they died. In their passage across the Black Sea the following summer when we tried to clear up all the matters that had got into confusion, a long list of names of men appeared in our regimental order book as struck off the strength of the Regiment ‘supposed to have died on passage to Scutari’ but we never knew positively what had happened to them.
Auctioning casualties’ kit
The Officers’ & men’s kits which had been left behind at Varna were sent to Balaclava & so on to the Head Quarters of their regiments in the Crimea & where men or Officers had died, the kits were at once auctioned & any articles of clothing brought fancy prices – the more so as our men were receiving little or no pay – so that their credits were accumulating in the paymaster’s hands. Hence any auction bills they incurred were paid by the Captains & charged against them. I have known private soldiers pay as much as 18/- per pair of cotton or thin men’s socks at a deceased Officer’s sale.
I bought a pair of long boots from Balaclava, paying £2.10 for them. They were enormously large for me, but that was all the better as I put on 4 or 5 prs of socks to go down to the trenches.
Rations now began to turn very short & all the drafts from home were kept on board ship & employed every day in carrying up food to a central depot about five miles from Balaclava & our men had to go over there every day & carry their food to each regimental camp. This was not the work for which the reinforcements came out but without food, they would have been no use at the front & we also should have given out. It was the only thing to be done in the circumstances but it was a poor makeshift as any number of Turkish porters could have been got at Constantinople & brought up in a couple of days & our costly British soldiers could have been kept for the work for which they had been instructed.
The frost was severe with a bitter, fierce wind & the snow was several feet deep in the valleys. The transport horses dropped & died on the roads by dozens, & we lost the services of hundreds of men every 24 hours & these poor creatures stowed away in worn out tents had to be attended on by comrades hardly able to provide for their own wants. Mr Russell reported the 3,500 sick were nearly all from preventable causes.
Maintaining discipline
Our men were so broken down by constant work & the scant food they now received that they often gave way to fatigue & went to sleep on their posts, even on sentry if front of our trenches immediately before the enemy. This is recognised as a most heinous offence & is punishable by death on conviction & no doubt the risks to the whole Army from a neglectful sentry more than justified this extreme severity. But knowing how the men were suffering, we too often condoned the offence, giving the culprit all the fright we could, but trying otherwise to save an otherwise good soldier from the very serious consequences.
This however necessitated our increasing our supervision over the advanced posts & culminated in officers being detached to keep constantly moving about along the line of sentries so as to keep them alert & ensure a good look-out being kept. The men were placed in pairs with a few yards interval between files & they lay close under cover so as to be protected from the enemy’s view & from the pretty constant fire that was kept up on our position. The patrolling officer was, of course, much more exposed as he would be observed & fired at, so we made it our practice not to be accustomed by any patrol party, but to move about alone, crawling over the exposed places. Stopping & chatting here & there with the sentries, for a very cheery good fellowship feeling prevailed in my Regiment between officers & men, especially those men who had been steadily on duty through the trying times.
I commenced this paper with the intention of describing 20 months’ service in the Crimea. In reading over my letters of 1854, old memories have crowded on me & I now fear I have been too diffuse of my description of my first impressions of being brought face to face with a human enemy as well as with disease and privation which claimed hundreds of victories for each one who fell before Russian bullet or bayonet. The time I proposed to allow myself is more than exhausted so, I fear, is your patience. I will now conclude this rather depressing recital by a description of how we made merry on the holiday of holidays – Christmas Day. To many of you this is not new. It was published last year, but I venture repeat it as a fitting conclusion.
Christmas in the Crimea
Memory takes me back to a Christmas which hardly came up to the ideal, and the contrast of then and now, of trials and miseries endured then, as compared with present comforts, may make us more satisfied with, and thankful for what we now enjoy. Twenty-nine years ago England had contributed as her share of the Crimean invading force over 35,000 men, of whom a scanty 8,000 were, on Christmas Day, 1854, available for duty. Many of the remainder had helped to fill the huge trenches hastily dug for graves on the fields of Alma and Inkerman, or slept below the innumerable little mounds which surrounded our camp hospitals, and inside the canvas walls of these the number of sick exceeded the total of those who still stood in the ranks, although none was received into hospital as long as they were able to carry themselves and their rifles.
During the greater part of December we had been reduced to half rations, and sometimes to no meat at all; half a pound of biscuit; one blanket, and threadbare suit of uniform contributed but small support and protection to meet a climate not unlike that of Nova Scotia. And we were entirely without fuel, other than the roots of small alder bushes, which were grubbed up with pickaxes carried off from the trenches, and sometimes the pickaxe handles were used to warm a canteen of water for tea. But soon these became so scarce that we were without a single fire in the camp of my regiment for three days. In spite of all, however, Christmas was at hand, and we all set ourselves to be jolly. The authorities also considered it incumbent on them to make an extra effort, and it was announced with great pride that the commissariat had secured some live cattle in honour of the season, and we were to receive an issue of fresh meat. But this was the extent of their ambition, and their pride met with a fall, for, after waiting till after three o'clock, our pioneers, who drew the rations, returned with the melancholy intelligence that there was nothing for us that day.
'The Zouaves,' * so said the commissariat officers, 'had stolen the bullocks.' It is often mentioned as one of the advantages of live cattle as food for an army that they require no transport, but carry themselves. But we learnt that there is another side to this quality—they sometimes carry themselves away, as they did on this occasion. Whether our gallant allies really ate our dinner as well as their own that Christmas Day I know not, but African warfare had taught them to take care of No. 1, and they formed a convenient and not unlikely peg on which to hang the deficiency; and deficiency there was, for our supply department, relying upon their fresh meat, had not brought up any salt meat from Balaclava, and we were left with only our ration biscuit for our Christmas dinner.
Just as we received this pleasant intelligence the orderly sergeant handed me the order book warning me I was for guard duty in the trenches that night. Our regiment, which had gone out from Edinburgh in the spring over 1,000 strong, and had received a reinforcement of nearly 100 men, was at this time reduced to 68 men available for duty. So but one captain and one lieutenant (myself) were detailed to take charge of this poor remnant of what had been, three months before, a magnificent battalion.
A new colonel had just been sent to us from a West Indian regiment, who took as much interest in his new command as if he had served all his life with us, and employed his chargers and his grooms to transport any possible comforts for his men. Six months afterwards he was struck down when directing the fire of his men on the Russian gunners to keep down their fire and cover our attack on the Redan. By chance he heard us warned for guard, and at once went to his tent and returned with a ham knuckle. 'It is all I have,' he said, 'but those going on duty must have the first chance of some food on Christmas Day. Sit down on your rug and make the best of it.' He was in earnest, so we ate up his dinner and polished the ham bone; but I had determined to keep Christmas as an Englishman should with a real plum pudding.
I had collected the ingredients in the course of a couple of trips among the Maltese and Greek settlers at Balaclava and from the stewards of some of the transports; a few raisins, a little sugar, some butter (so called by courtesy); and of course my ration rum came into play. I could not get any flour, so purchased some biscuit at Balaclava. It was mouldy and full of weevils, and had been condemned as ship's stores and sold to some camp followers, but to us at half a crown a pound it was a treasure. I pounded a quantity of this as fine as possible, and mixed the material in my tin shako case, which did duty as bucket, etc., and tied them up in one of my two towels, and, having secured a tent bag full of freshly dug alder roots, the pudding was put on to boil. As we were going on guard, dinner was early, perhaps too early for the pudding. We had no holly, and could not spare spirits enough to make a blaze, but my servant brought in the pudding quite as triumphantly as if we had been in baronial mansion in old England.
It was reserved for me to open the towel, which I did with no little pride at having the only plum pudding in camp. I had buttered the towel so that it should not stick to it; it did not, but it did not stick together either. It would not stand up, but fell apart like very stiff porridge. I believe it wasn't bad to eat, but it wasn't exactly what we understand to be plum pudding. My vanity was cruelly mortified after all my efforts to excel. I have never attempted to make another plum pudding.
The Russians were considerate that night. They gave us very little annoyance, and Robertson and I walked up and down in rear of the trenches where our weary and worn-out men were lying quiet, getting a welcome rest in a half-wet, half-frozen ditch. We talked of home and how we had spent other Christmases, but I do not think we either expressed or held any other thought for the future than when we should bring our discomforts to an end and wind up the siege by a determined attack on Sevastopol.
Memory conjures up the past at this season. Friends who have left us are present in spirit. We associate the past with the present more at Christmas than at any other time of year. It colours our thoughts and influences our acts unknown to us, and brings out kindly feelings and hope, as much in 1883 as my reminiscences show it did in 1854.’
* Zouaves – a class of light infantry regiments of the French Army serving between 1830 and 1962 and linked to French North Africa
May England’s soldiers in all her wars, render their country as faithful service as were so devotedly & unstintingly given by the men of 1854-1855.