[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!”