Yonder the British Navy riding in the gale,
Idly waiting orders to spread sail.
T. Faughnan.
CHAPTER XV.
MARCH TO BALAKLAVA—RETURN—MEN GO BARE-FOOTED—SNOW FIVE FEET DEEP—LONG BOOTS—HARD FROST—CAVALRY DIVISION—BURIAL GROUND—SOLITARY PROCESSION—MEN FROZEN—I BUILT A HUT—GREEN COFFEE—WINTRY APPEARANCE—DEAD HORSES—63RD REGIMENT—CARRYING PROVISIONS—FRENCH SICK.
January 6th, Captain John Croker, with six men of his company, went down to Balaklava for some cooked pork, which had been kindly sent out from England to us. The captain took a mule to carry back a bag of charcoal. After we got the pork from the steamer, and the captain his charcoal on the mule's back, we started for camp. We had proceeded about three miles when we got faint with hunger, weary and wet, the mud being knee deep, and the load sinking us into the mire at every step. We requested the captain to let us have some of the pork to eat, this he willingly complied with, as he was hungry himself. We opened the bags and divided a four pound piece between every two men, the captain taking his share also; this gave us new strength to accomplish our task, and also to help the mule out of the slough. Sleet, snow and rain beat in our faces all the way; we did not reach camp till twelve o'clock that night. This was the hardest fatigue—up to our knees in mud with a heavy load on our backs—I ever performed. After we got to camp the captain gave us each a glass of Hennessey's brandy from a case which he got out from Ireland as a Christmas-box. I believe that brandy saved us from a severe illness, as we had to lie down in our wet clothes. As we were coming up from Balaklava, we saw the 39th Regiment which had just landed, preparing to join the camp before Sebastopol. They were well provided against the severity of the weather; they had all received warm clothing, and looked comfortable in their fur caps and long boots; but the 17th Regiment had not received a single article of warm clothing yet. Our old clothes are in rags and tatters, even our boots are scarcely any protection, the leather having shrunk with the continual wet, and the men's feet having swelled with the cold, so that some men could not get their boots on and had to go in the trenches and about the camp bare-footed; this is hard to believe, but nevertheless it is true. January 9th. It had been snowing for the last three days, and this morning the whole of the mountains over Balaklava and along the valley of the Tchernaya River are clothed in a sheet of white, the snow being on the ground to the depth of three feet and in some places over five feet; the cold was increased by a piercing high wind which blew into our very marrow bones. If we were only well clad this weather would, however, be far more healthy than the wet and storm we have had recently, but, alas, we are not properly provided with outer garments to resist the severity of the Crimean winter. I cannot conceive greater hardship than to stand in the trenches twenty-four hours, then return cramped and nearly frozen, to our damp, cheerless tents to find that there is no fire nor wood to cook any victuals, nor even a drink of warm coffee. What we require most of all are long boots to protect our feet and legs; most of the officers have got long boots, and find them invaluable. Our mitts are worn out and unserviceable; I made a pair out of a piece of my blanket, which I find answers the purpose admirably, of course it was robbing Peter to pay Paul; it shortened my blanket somewhat. Several men, however, have followed my example.