Footnotes
[1]. For some twenty years he was in charge of office and field parties on the detail survey and plan drawing. He had the local superintendence and direction, under Captain Williams, R.E., of the survey of the property belonging to the duchy of Lancaster at Langeinor, in South Wales, and of the Royal domain of Windsor Castle, under Major Tucker, R.E. His qualifications, as displayed in the direction of these surveys, led to his selection for the charge of the London survey, but his connection with it on the part of the Ordnance, was early broken, by his receiving, in July, 1848, the appointment of surveyor to the Metropolitan Commissioners of Sewers, at 200l. a-year, which salary has since been considerably increased. On leaving the corps he received a silver medal and gratuity for his long services and exemplary conduct. Ever since his discharge he has had the superintendence of a large staff of draughtsmen and men surveying underground in the sewers. In February, 1851, seven hundred miles of sewers had been thoroughly examined, and the levels of the different parts minutely ascertained. “The result of this,” observed Sir Henry de la Beche, “is that they had documents connected with the condition of these seven hundred miles of sewerage, such as were not possessed by any metropolis in Europe. It was but justice,“ adds Sir Henry, “in referring to the work as examined, to call attention to the officer who had charge of it—Mr. Joseph Smith, who had executed his task with an ability, a zeal, and perseverance, deserving the highest eulogiums both of that court and the inhabitants of the whole metropolis.”—‘The Times,’ 1st February, 1851. Mr. Smith afterwards became conspicuous for his report condemning the construction of the Victoria Sewer, which was nullified by an entirely antagonistic report from Mr. Forster, the engineer, and gave rise to some little discussion in the House of Commons between Sir Benjamin Hall and Lord Ebrington.—‘The Times,’ July 30, 1851.
[2]. Remarkable for his great endurance of fatigue and exertion, and as being one of the best and quickest surveyors in the Ordnance. In his early career in Ireland, it is said, he once walked twenty-two miles to work, surveyed twelve miles of lines, and returned the same evening—twenty-two miles—to his quarters! This was considered at the time to be fair progress for six days; indeed, it was facetiously said of him that he carried on his work by moonlight. He was also clever as an observer with the two-feet theodolite, and the accuracy of his arcs was so rigidly faithful, that an officer visited him specially to watch his work, and test the value of his services. More than twenty-one years he took part in the national surveys, and had the local superintendence for many years of large parties dispersed over extensive districts. He also assisted with much credit in the survey of the disputed territory in North America; and, receiving for his good conduct and long services a gratuity and silver medal, was discharged from the corps in January, 1851. Soon afterwards he emigrated to Canada.
[3]. ‘Companion to Almanac,’ 1849, p. 37.
[4]. Ibid., p. 38.
[5]. Ibid.
[6]. ‘The Observer,’ April 9, and June 4, 1848; ‘Civil Engineer and Architectural Journal,’ and some of the London press.
[7]. The ‘Times,’ June 10, 1848. “The example of the employment of this corps,” said Mr. Chadwick, “on beneficial public works, qualifying them for civil employment, was worthy of public note, for in their case, the discharge from the military service was not, as he had in Poor Law administration too frequent occasion to observe, the creation of paupers, or mendicants, or worse. There was no class of persons who so soon got into productive civil service.”—Ibid.
[8]. ‘Illustrated London News,’ June 24, 1848.
[9]. Ibid.
[10]. The privates here named have died under rather singular circumstances; Porteous suddenly, in September, 1853, when encamped on Brandon-hill; Pemble in June, 1854, at Elvanfoot, in Lanarkshire, from exhaustion and exposure to stormy weather. The latter had been sent from the camp to build a pile for trigonometrical purposes, and next evening, after a fatiguing day’s work, he was returning to the station, when he lay down to rest himself by the side of a mountain stream, and perished. Both these soldiers were the chief practical workmen in the formation of the structures for the observatories. At lofty heights, where the senses of most men would paralyze, borne up on shaking props or slender supports, they calmly carried on their dangerous operations with spirit, activity, and ingenuity.
[11]. ‘Illust. Lond. News,’ June 24, 1848; ‘Historic Times,’ January 19, 1849. In both of which are spirited cuts of the scaffolding, &c.
[12]. The ‘Times,’ November 4, 1848.
[13]. Ibid. Here, however, it should be noted, that a pole about four feet long, on being let down into the boarded screen below, struck on a moulding and went down whirling. In its descent it struck the great dome, where it received a shell-like range, and dashed off, at a sharp angle, to the North Transept, where it made a hole through the lead of the roof, similar to what a ball of the same diameter would have done if let fall from the same height. In taking down the scaffolding, an eight-feet plank fell on its flat side from the lantern to the pavement in the area of the Cathedral, and the report was like the booming of a piece of ordnance from the deck of a ship of war.
[14]. Distinguished himself by his gallantry in the storming of the Redan on the 8th September, 1855.
[15]. The ‘Times,’ November 4, 1848.
[16]. ‘Builder,’ 7th April, 1849, p. 165.
[17]. The ‘Times,’ February 1, 1851.
[18]. Sir John Richardson’s ‘Boat Voyage,’ i., p. 53.
[19]. Sir John Richardson, ii., p. 141.
[20]. Sir John Richardson, i., p. 110.
[21]. Ibid., i., pp. 110, 111.
[22]. Ibid., i., p. 115.
[23]. Ibid., pp. 119-131.
[24]. Sir John Richardson, i., p. 289.
[25]. Ibid., i., p. 294.
[26]. Ibid., p. 299.
[27]. Sir John Richardson, p. 308.
[28]. Ibid., i., pp. 309-318.
[29]. Sir John Richardson, i., p. 321.
[30]. Ibid., p. 326.
[31]. Sir John Richardson, i., p. 331.
[32]. This year was enlisted a calculating youth named Alexander Gwin, a native of Londonderry, who had a brother and an uncle in the corps. When only eight years of age, he had “committed to memory the logarithms of all the natural numbers from one to a thousand.” Two years later, his fame having spread, his precocity was tested at Limerick “in the presence of Colonel Colby, Lord Adare, and several other gentlemen of distinction,” to whom he repeated the whole series, without a mistake, taking up two hours and a half to deliver himself of that gigantic mental effort! “His rapidity and correctness in calculating trigonometrical distances, triangles, &c.” were equally remarkable. “In less than one minute, he could make a return in acres, roods, perches, &c., of any quantity of land, by giving him the surveyor’s chained distances; while,” it is added, “the greatest mathematician with all his knowledge would certainly take nearly an hour to do the same, and not be sure of truth in the end.”—‘Year-Book of Facts,’ 1842. ‘Boys’ Own Book,’ p. 381, published by Bogue. This calculating boy, making allowance for the hyperbole of his admirers, was without doubt a youthful prodigy. He is now a corporal on the survey, useful and energetic in his duties; but as the opportunities for improving his faculty for figures have been considerably lessened by the nature of his employments, he has not become what his infantine capabilities promised—another Bidder.
[33]. He never received any additional remuneration at the close of the work, but his high rate of working-pay may have been considered a sufficient equivalent for his services.
[34]. Sergeant James Anderson was one of those who was thus favoured. On obtaining his discharge, with a pension of 1s. 10d. a day, in August, 1845, he received an appointment in Worsley-yard, belonging to the estate of Lord Ellesmere, as superintendent and storekeeper of the yard, at a salary of 120l. a-year, with a residence. Since then, such has been his scrupulous character for honesty and careful supervision, that a very handsome addition has been made to his income, and the utmost confidence is reposed in him.
Another was colour-sergeant John Ross, a very ingenious mechanic, who after his discharge, in April, 1848, was appointed engineer at Runcorn, to attend to a small steam fleet in the canal, under the Bridgewater Trust. He invented the drawbridge at the entrance of Fort Albert, Bermuda, the largest of its class in any military fortification, and which can be easily worked by two men, either in throwing it across the ditch, or pulling it in. Many years of his life had been spent in perfecting a new system of locomotion for ships. His great idea was the construction of a vessel which should ride above the control of the waves, resting upon an arrangement of large cylinders, to serve, like the piers of a bridge, as the natural supports of the ship, and within which should be placed his revolving paddle-wheels, to be moved by steam appliances. By a very ingenious contrivance he provided that the sea, which should come in contact with the paddles, should not only be deprived of its resistance, but made to assist in the propulsion of the vessel. The speed he calculated to obtain by his system was almost incredible. Personal trials of an imperfect model, in the waters at Bermuda, convinced him of the practicability of his bold scheme. After quitting Runcorn, ambitious of higher employment, he emigrated to Canada, where he is pursuing the study and development of his novel notions of shipbuilding and locomotion. He received a gratuity and medal for his services in the corps, and might have been promoted to the rank of sergeant-major, but, restless and speculative, he preferred to try what his mechanical genius would yield him in civil life.
[35]. ‘Cape and the Kaffirs,’ by Mrs. Captain Ward. Bohn’s edit. 1851, p. 230.
[36]. ‘Graham’s Town Journal,’ October 14, 1848.
[37]. Sergeant Hearnden, so frequently spoken of in these pages, purchased his discharge and emigrated with his savings, nearly a thousand pounds, to North America, where, from his enterprising spirit and commercial tact, he is realizing a fortune. Throughout his service of twelve years in the corps he was constantly employed on particular duty. In the practical instruction of the Cadets at Sandhurst and Woolwich, and in one of the early expeditions to the disputed territory in the state of Maine, he showed much talent and energy, and obtained great credit. For his services at the Falkland Islands no higher testimony could be afforded to a soldier than the repeated warm acknowledgments of Governor Moody. A word may also be given about his horse. Blanco was brought from South America; was perfectly white, and exhibited signs of good breeding. Hearnden purchased him at a rather high figure; but his subsequent usefulness and hardihood in a trying climate gave him ample reason to be satisfied with his bargain. On the 7th January, 1847, at the Falkland Island races, Blanco had the good fortune to win the Governor’s cup, worth 50l. The cup, made of silver, by Hunt and Roskill, stood about eighteen inches high, and was richly ornamented and chased. On one side the sergeant was represented mounted, with sword, sabre-tache, and gauntlets. In another panel was the inscription. The cover was very massive, and both cover and cup were lined with silver gilt.
[38]. The ‘Times,’ 12th January, 1849. ‘Corps Papers,’ i., pp. 415, 416.
[39]. Sir John Richardson, ii., p. 138.
[40]. Ibid.
[41]. Sir John Richardson, ii., pp. 138-141.
[42]. Ibid. ii., p. 144.
[43]. Sergeant Robert Gardiner, the senior non-commissioned officer of the party, by great assiduity and application so improved his attainments, that he was recommended for the appointment of clerk of works in the royal engineer department. His drawings of the Supreme Court of Adelaide gained him much credit, and his services were marked by skill, zeal, and usefulness up to the period of his discharge, in February, 1854. Military men, particularly in the distant south, have every means of improving their condition; and if they possess a commercial bias, may, with tact, accumulate wealth. Gardiner has not been unmindful of his interests in this respect, and he is in a fair way of making his fortune. Offered for his good services to the public the situation of foreman of works to the department at Hobart Town, he declined it, and he now fills an advantageous appointment in the survey department of the colony of South Australia.
[44]. ‘Cape Town Mail,’ November 17, 1849.
[45]. General Mudge measured the line in 1794.
[46]. While on Salisbury Plain he was visited by Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Pasley, frequently by Colonel Hall and Captain Yolland, and by about fifty other officers of the royal engineers; also by Professors Airy, Sheepshanks, and Cape. The last gentleman was very free in his inquiries. The mode of aligning the instrument did not, at first, satisfy him, but eventually the process having been minutely explained by the sergeant, he went away convinced and gratified. Captain Gosset was present at the laying of the first bar and Captain Hawkins at the last.
[47]. In the reign of Tarquin I., 606 B.C., a force of Roman soldiers, ordered to construct common sewers, considered the employment an indignity and destroyed themselves. The self-esteem of the Roman soldier which led to so fatal a result, had a different effect on the modern; for the pride of the latter, tempered by a consideration of duty, urged him into the midst of danger and for the sake of humanity to seek it. Reflecting too, that the service, though paramount, was too objectionable for even convicts to perform, the warm eulogy of the Marquis may not be regarded as undeserved by those on whom it was conferred.
[48]. The accidental destruction of the three smaller chambers was providential, for had they exploded, the battery-shed, with Captain Frome and his assistant, would inevitably have been carried away, and crushed among the falling masses: as it was “the electricity of the two Grove’s batteries, on igniting the powder in the larger chambers, caused an instantaneous disconnection of the Smee’s battery from the smaller chambers, and, at the same time, the table on which they stood was jerked violently forward between two and three feet, upsetting the Smee’s battery on the floor, and throwing out from the others also a quantity of the acids.”—‘Illust. Lond. News,’ September 28, 1850.
[49]. ‘Professional Papers,’ i., N. S., 68-86. Colonel Lewis’s Paper in ‘Jones’s Journal,’ November, 1850.
[50]. Now a quartermaster-sergeant. In his early career he was employed in the chronometrical determination of the longitude of Valentia, and for many years rendered very useful services in filling in the railways on the one-inch map. His talents and energy have singled him out at different times for the execution of particular duties. He was intrusted with the local superintendence of the survey, &c., of Her Majesty’s domain at Osborne, in the Isle of Wight; and as a mark of approbation for the “attention and care” he exercised in discharging the duty, His Royal Highness Prince Albert presented him with a cheque for ten pounds. He also had subordinate charge of the survey made for the military encampment at Chobham Common.
[51]. ‘Professional Papers, R. E.,’ iii., N. S., p. xxiii.
[52]. Captain Yolland, ‘Sector Volume,’ p. xiii.
[53]. Private B. K. Spencer took a few observations at these stations.
[54]. A few observations were taken at this station by Corporal Jenkins.
[55]. Captain Yolland, ‘Sector Volume,’ xiii.
[56]. Ibid., xiv.
[57]. On journeying from Roach, in Cornwall, to Exeter, he sat by the side of the Astronomer Royal, who made various inquiries concerning the survey. At length, he asked, “What instrument have you been using?” “Professor Airy’s zenith sector,” was the reply. “Indeed, I am Professor Airy!” The surprise and pleasure of the sergeant, before unconscious of the presence of the eminent astronomer, may be left to the imagination of the reader to conceive. The incident is memorable, on account of the introduction, thus singularly obtained by sergeant Steel, and of the information he received from the Professor in the efficient use of the instrument, as well as in some salient points connected with astronomy.
[58]. Captain Yolland’s ‘Sector Volume,’ pp. xi. xii.
[59]. When oppressed by the monotony of his employments sergeant Steel sometimes resorted to the study of extraneous subjects to hold his mind fresh for his public duties. In this way he learned phonography and the grave game of chess. The latter he acquired, not by the teaching of any interested instructor, but by an examination of a series of numbers of the “Illustrated London News.”
It may be allowed to expatiate a little on this matter. A gentleman, who had visited the Shetland group, being kindly entertained by Mr. Spence of Haroldswick in Unst, quitted the country favourably impressed with the homestead of that good man. Shortly after, “The Illustrated London News” was sent to Mr. Spence, and has ever since been regularly forwarded to him, either by the unknown visitor or the proprietor himself. The mystery which Still hangs over the generous transaction is not without interest in Unst. From Mr. Spence the illustrated journal was weekly supplied for the perusal of the sergeant, then encamped on the lonely island of Balta, who, after devouring its contents, turned his attention to the study of chess.
Discovering no analogy between the powers of the puppets and their forms or designations, he first applied himself to manufacture a suite of men, which should at least have the merit of corresponding in character with the authority they possessed. Eschewing those fantastic shapes in which chessmen are usually carved, and which, indeed, seem as ancient as the grotesque figures on the court cards of a genuine pack, he devised a simple scheme to remind him of their powers. Thirty-two cubes of wood, sixteen stained white and sixteen black, were marked with lines on all their faces, agreeably to the ranks of the warriors, and the liberty they possessed in moving over the board. The definitions were shown by black lines on the white cubes, and white on the black. The bishop having power to roam, under certain restrictions, in diagonal directions, a piece was assigned to his reverence with diagonal lines marked across the square. The rook having a rectangular motion was indicated by a rectangular figure, while the redoubtable knight, always moving obliquely, was reticulated with lines which pointed out the avenues of his march in quest of the enemy. The queen, combining in her will, the power of motion exercised both by the rook and knight, exhibited on her royal square the necessary lines to make plain the extent of her liberty. Just so with the king, who, in this respect had equal power with his consort; but as the queen had authority to move forward or backward as far as the chequers were open, and the king could only plant his royal foot in one check at a time, Steel, to show the curious difference between their majesties, introduced into the king’s escutcheon, a pellet between each pair of lines to mark the limit of his government and distinguish him from his royal spouse. The pawn—the common soldier of the board—permitted only to move forward perpendicularly, and to capture like his knight obliquely, was singled out from the other puppets by three lines issuing from a common centre—one directed upwards to the edge of the square and the other two diverging obliquely to the angles. By this facile application of geometrical combinations he never required to charge his memory with the relative powers and movements of the several pieces, and thus became a fair player at the game of chess.
[60]. Captain Yolland’s ‘Sector Volume,’ p. xii.
[61]. Letter from Captain Tylden in the ‘Times,’ April 23, 1851.
[62]. ‘Parliamentary Papers,’ Cape of Good Hope, June, 1851, p. 47.
[63]. The incidents of this affair, for the most part, are taken from a Cape paper. One day this corporal was fishing in the Keiskama, armed with a loaded carbine, when he was approached from behind by a Kaffir. The latter fired, and corporal Wilson, who was untouched, fell as if killed. Warily the Kaffir neared the spot; but the corporal, watching his opportunity, jumped up and shot his opponent. The wound was not fatal, but a blow from the butt end of his carbine sealed the Kaffir’s fate, and the corporal took home his head as a trophy.
[64]. ‘Parliamentary Papers,’ Cape of Good Hope, presented February 3rd, 1852, p. 164.
[65]. ‘Times,’ May 2, 1851.
[69]. First Report of Royal Commissioners, Exhibition, App. xxv., p. 128.
[70]. Ibid., App. vi., p. 50.
[71]. Chiefly from the First Report, Royal Commissioners, Exhibition, 1851, App. vi., p. 48.
[72]. The ‘Times,’ July 2, 1851. The reference is too good to be omitted. “The training—which,” proceeds the ‘Times,’ “under Sir C. Pasley’s system they undergo, admirably prepares them for this description of work, and they have brought to it the practical experience acquired during the Irish, Scotch, and English surveys, which it will be recollected they were employed upon in compliance with a most valuable suggestion to that effect made by Colonel Reid. The plan to which we allude is a highly creditable specimen of the skill which the sappers have attained in the art of surveying.”
[73]. October 7, 1851.
[74]. October 12, 1851.
[75]. March 1, 1851, p. 130.
[76]. Apprehensive of accidents, the public registry of the numbers was, a few days before the closing of the Exhibition, abandoned at the instigation of the police authorities.
[77]. Robert Marshall, formerly a private in the corps, was also attached to the stationery department. From this he was promoted to be collector from the money-takers. After the Exhibition closed, he received a gratifying testimonial from Earl Granville, and a gratuity of one month’s pay from the Royal Commissioners as a recognition of his services. In consequence of his industry and honesty, he was one of two or three retained for employment under the Commissioners, from whom he was transferred to the Department of Practical Art, to assist in superintending the reception and classified organization of the Trade Museum of specimens presented to it from all countries. In this duty his disciplined habits of order and arrangement made his services of great utility and value. He now holds a lucrative appointment as superintendent to a boarding establishment in London, under the Electric Telegraph Company, obtained for him, in consequence of his creditable conduct at the Exhibition, by Major-General Wylde.
[78]. ‘Illustrated London News,’ March 1, 1851.
[79]. The ‘Times,’ February 19, 1851.
[80]. ‘Illustrated London News,’ February 22, 1851.
[81]. The ‘Times,’ February 26, 1851.
[82]. First Report, App. xxvi., p. 130.
[83]. First Report, App. x., p. 67.
[84]. One man, private Alexander Dunlop, in the machinery department, was the operator of an interesting experiment with an article of manufacture in which both England and France were concerned. The incident was related by Mr. Overend, at a public dinner, given at the Cutlers’-hall, Sheffield, to the Great Exhibition Local Commissioners for that town. Among the jurors there was a French Gentleman, who very properly showed great zeal in protecting the interests of his countrymen. He admitted that Sheffield had made the best files, but he maintained that there was a house in France that could make them incontestibly superior. He challenged Sheffield to the trial, and selecting the house with which he would make the test, it happened to be that of the Mayor of Sheffield, Mr. Turton, who accepted it. From France files were brought over for the purpose, and a French engineer was despatched across the Channel to use them. Messrs. Turton did not send to Sheffield to have files made specially for the occasion, but merely went to a London customer, whom they supplied with files, and took a few, indiscriminately, from his stock. Private Dunlop was chosen to use the English file against the French engineer and the French files made for the occasion. Two pieces of steel being selected upon which to try the files, they were fixed in two vices. The Frenchman was stripped to his work, with sleeves turned up, and all encumbrances likely to affect his strength and freedom of action, were removed. Dunlop was very differently garbed; his coat was buttoned up to the throat, and he was, in all respects, going, as it were, to parade. Both now, by a signal, began to work simultaneously, but Dunlop, a very powerful blacksmith, had filed the steel down to the vice before the French engineer had got one-third through. When the files were examined, that of Messrs. Turton was found to be as good as ever, while the French one was nearly worn out. The French juror then said no doubt he was beaten in that trial; but Messrs. Turton’s file must have been made to cut steel only, whereas the French file was better adapted for iron. A new trial then took place upon the iron, and the result was still more in favour of the English file.
[85]. ‘Fraser’s Magazine.’
[86]. This gave offence to one London periodical—the ‘Builder’ (April 5, 1851, p. 212). Its antagonism, however, is consistent, for it has always advocated that the services of the sappers should be confined purely to military duties, and that the national surveys, &c., should be wholly controlled and regulated by civil energy and operation. Still, with all its opposition, it spoke of the sappers at the Exhibition, in a qualified sense, as intelligent and efficient.
[87]. ‘First Report,’ p. xxxvii.
[88]. ‘First Report,’ App., vi., p. 49.
[89]. ‘First Report,’ p. xxi. It may be worth remarking, that Mr. Cobden, the persevering enemy of naval and military establishments, was so satisfied with the conduct and services of the corps, that he was heard to say, he would never in his advocacy for military retrenchment, seek to reduce the numbers of the sappers.
[90]. ‘Hampshire Advocate,’ May 10, 1851.
[91]. ‘Juries Reports,’ Exhibition, 1851, p. 222.
[92]. Ibid.
[93]. The particulars taken from sergeant Forsyth’s statements in ‘Report of Committee of Manage. High. Dest., 1852,’ pp. 15-18, 35-37.
[94]. ‘Report of Committee of Manage. High. Dest., 1852,’ p. 41.
[95]. Ibid., p. 19.
[96]. Ibid., pp. 18-21.
[97]. ‘Report of Committee of Manage. High. Dest., 1852,’ p. 41.
[98]. Ibid.
[99]. Ibid.
[100]. Ibid.
[101]. Was formerly in the sappers, from which he was discharged a corporal in January, 1838, on a pension of 1s. 7d. a-day, after a service of twenty-three years. Most of his military career was spent on the survey of Ireland, in which he was found a zealous and correct surveyor. Soon after quitting the corps he emigrated to South Australia, and was hired by the Commissioners for the colony as a draughtsman in the land office. He was one of the first race of surveyors in the settlement, and his duties, carried on through an unexplored intricate wilderness, were extremely toilsome and trying. At one time the survey department was thrown into great difficulty by the resignation of the original survey staff, which was the more embarrassing as emigrants were pouring into the colony by thousands, and land was rapidly purchased. In this extremity corporal McLaren, to meet the great and pressing wants of the colonists, exerted himself with untiring energy. The Governor, Colonel Gawler, in writing of his services (‘Times,’ November 7, 1846), said, “Corporal McLaren was a fine fellow, who would have answered all my purposes if I could have cut him up into ten or twenty living portions, but who, unhappily for me, was not thus divisible.” He was afterwards attached to the department of the surveyor-general, and ultimately, by his commendable labours, his experience, and valuable co-operation, received the appointment of deputy surveyor-general, which he now fills. His income is about 700l. a-year. A report by him (‘Times,’ September 20, 1852), on the overland route from Adelaide to Mount Alexander, is a fair specimen of his literary attainments and business-like habits.
[102]. ‘Naval and Military Gazette,’ 21st August, 1852.
[103]. Ibid., September 18, 1852.
[104]. ‘Naval and Military Gazette,’ September 18, 1852.
[105]. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 237.
[106]. After this disaster, arms or ammunition were forbidden to be conveyed from one post to another, except by the express orders of the Major-Generals or officers commanding divisions, who were held responsible that sufficient escorts were provided to defend the convoys.
[107]. King’s ‘Campaigning in Kaffirland,’ 2nd edit., p. 237.
[108]. Said to be young Webb, a driver (in ‘Naval and Military Gazette,’ August 21, 1852); but Captain Moody has recorded, that the service was performed by private Murphy.
[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.
[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.
Transcriber’s Note
Hyphens appearing in compound words on a line or page break are retained or removed based on the preponderance of instances of the word elsewhere in the text.
On p. [48], the table at the top of the page appeared in mid-paragraph. It has been moved to precede that paragraph.
On occasion, tabular data which spanned pages repeated some headings. These repetitive lines are moot in this format, and have been removed.
On p. [166], the tabulation of corps strength incorrectly computes the total comprising “the band”, missing the three non-commissioned officers. The total strength should have been 3331.
Appendix IX consists of a very wide table of casualties, presented in landscape orientation. It has been separated into three separate tables here: the first containing ‘increases’, the second two, both containing ‘decreases’, include ‘discharges’ and other outcomes, respectively.
Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The corrections below refer to page and line in the original printed text. The prefix ‘n’ refers to the note number as it is numbered in this text.
| [iv.13] | Storming Fort Wil[l/t]shire | Replaced. |
| [23.14] | four ammu[n]ition waggons | Inserted. |
| [48.23] | commemorated the suc[e/c]ess | Replaced. |
| [91.14] | he ordered the workmen to leave the pit[,/.] | Replaced. |
| [115.21] | was again in motion[.] | Added. |
| [118.27] | to carry on the mete[re/or]ological observations | Replaced. |
| [124.5] | was indefinitely pos[t]poned. | Inserted. |
| [127.9] | A[t/s] soon as it was determined | Replaced. |
| [129.25] | with a wooden canteen, hav[re/er]sack and blanket | Transposed. |
| [144.18] | a company of the 23rd fusil[e/i]ers | Replaced. |
| [174.34] | that they escaped unhurt[.] | Added. |
| [181.25] | in a cruize | sic obsolete form. |
| [183.10] | and then transship[p]ed into another | Removed. |
| [185.31] | to the beleagu[e]red fortress of Silistria | Inserted. |
| [258.32] | and Thomas McN[ie/ei]l severely wounded | Transposed. |
| [306.36] | as trying as peril[l]ous | Removed. |
| [312.37] | considering the dis[a]dvantages | Inserted. |
| [324.36] | in giving to the [l]odgment | Restored. |
| [340.29] | Event[ntu/uall]y their toils end | Replaced. |
| [342.10] | the 18th of June[,/.] | Replaced. |
| [343.16] | and enabled Captain [Ducane/Du Cane] | Replaced for consistency. |
| [345.39] | the skirts of the wool[-]bag party | Inserted. |
| [352.4] | but he was stone dead[.] | Added. |
| [468.33] | waiting for a [g]ust of wind | Restored. |
| [518.6] | in the constrction of scaffolding | Inserted. |
| [545.26] | Non-commissioned Of[f]icers | Inserted. |
| [545.30] | the Mulgrave Reservoir at Woolwich[,/.] | Replaced. |
| [545.45] | [E/F]rom the Governor | Replaced. |
| [559.37] | [Moorsunde], River Murray, South Australia. | sic: probably Moorunde |