One sapper—private Thomas Muir—was dangerously wounded in the calf of the right leg, while mending the embrasure of the right 68-pounder gun in the 21-gun battery. As sergeant Morant was marching the party down the middle ravine, he jocosely remarked to Muir, that one or the other would be struck that day. Two hours after, Muir passed on a stretcher, and seeing Morant, he called out with unmistakeable cheerfulness, “You see, sergeant, I’m the first struck;” and onwards he was borne to the camp, singing all the way, as if for the entertainment of his bearers, some of those inspiriting Scotch airs which connected his heart with home. Amputation was resorted to to save his life, but gradually sinking, he died on the 15th May.
Towards the close of the day the sappers busied themselves in draining the trenches, wretchedly deep in water and mud. Sawdust was scattered on the platforms to relieve them from slipperiness. Sliding about in every direction on the unctuous soil, the heavy mortars were unmanageable, and so to help the gunners in moving them, they were supplied with iron-shod handspikes from the engineer park. At night 58 sappers were thrown into the left attack, and about 28 into the right, and through the darkness and storm, though miserably wet and cold, completed all the essential restorations by the following morning. “The officers of engineers,” writes Major-General Jones, “and sappers and miners continue active and zealous; the duty in this weather is very hard and severe upon them.”
For some time the field electric telegraph had been in operation under Lieutenant Stopford. It was worked by several sappers, sergeant Anderson being the chief executive non-commissioned officer. By the 8th April, lines of communication were open to the stations of divisions, to the trenches, and to head-quarters. That night the wire was laid to a cave near the first parallel on the right attack. It was no sooner completed than the sergeant received an order from Lieutenant Stopford to fix an instrument and battery in the cave, to obtain two orderlies from the covering party in the trenches, and apprise head-quarters as soon as the service was accomplished. This done, Anderson was directed to remain and work the instrument. Pleased with this the first appointment to the station—a dismally picturesque spot it was—he sent and received several messages. Among the latter was one to the general in command of the trenches, “to open fire from every gun at daylight.” The bombardment commenced at daybreak, but in the midst of the din, at ten o’clock in the morning, an orderly, in breathless haste, delivered a note to the sergeant announcing the rather startling news that no communication could be sent to him from head-quarters, as it was supposed the wire was cut. He was, therefore, directed to examine and repair it. With some of the party, off he started, in a drenching rain, driving through sheets of water and swamp, and sinking at every step midleg in mud. He did not require to use the galvanometer to test the wire, for after bounding over the 21-gun battery, he soon found the spot where the current was interrupted. It was in the Woronzoff ravine, near the road, and in rear of the battery. A Russian 68-pounder had cut the line and laid about five feet of it bare. The duty was not devoid of danger. Shells burst around and shots flew by, but none of the manipulators were hurt. Removing the damaged wire, the sergeant replaced it with an approved piece, securing the connection by two joints; and after covering it with gutta-percha, relaid it in the furrow. It was a delicate operation to be performed under fire and required a cool head and a steady hand to effect it. On returning to the cave his situation was extremely disagreeable. Driven by a cutting wind, the rain beat into the chamber, and pattered against the faces of the operators. At whatever cost, the sergeant was determined to maintain the instrument in working order, and, accordingly, without any consideration for his own comfort, took off his mackintosh, and with it hooded the instrument which was yet to carry out important correspondences. There was no rest in the cave; the mind was anxious, the eye on the stretch; and in that miserable hole, for more than thirty hours, the sergeant was at his post. When relieved, he again passed along the communication to mend it, if necessary; but in all parts it was efficient, although he found six shot holes and several cannon balls lying on the line. His two orderlies belonged to the 47th regiment, intelligent and willing men, who exerted themselves creditably in conveying the various messages to the trenches of both attacks.
Next day the bombardment was renewed. There were 36 sappers in the right works, and 30 in the left. The ordnance organized to play on the Russian works were about 94 pieces. Much injury was done to the magazines, embrasures, and parapets, chiefly by the heavy rains causing the sand-bag revetments to yield in several places. Though struck by several shot, the magazines on the whole stood well. One in the 21-gun battery bore up against the shock of a 13-inch shell. It was nevertheless much riven, but rapidly repaired. A 10-inch shell exploded on a magazine close to General Jones, simply disturbing a few sand-bags and the superincumbent earth.
The casualties were very few. Among them was Lieutenant Graves of the engineers, who received a contusion from stones thrown up by a shot striking a damaged embrasure, the repair of which by a sapper he was superintending. Private John Baston was also severely wounded and lance-corporal Peter Towell slightly. “The sappers behaved very well in repairing the embrasures, and even reconstructing them under fire;” and the coolness and soldier-like conduct in this service of privates George Harris, second company, and William Bruce of the seventh, were brought to the attention of Lord Raglan, and also communicated to the corps in general orders.
Early in the morning a corporal and five sappers were sent to the Inkermann light-house battery on the extreme right of the French position, to open embrasures and fit the work to share in the bombardment. It was manned at the time by British artillerymen, and the sappers were despatched to the battery at the instance of the adjutant of the siege-train. Two embrasures only were cut through, when the eager gunners opened fire on the enemy. So weak an armament brought upon it a crushing cannonade, which effected considerable mischief before the Russian fire could be drawn off to other batteries. Corporal Ramsay—“a valuable man”[[176]]—“one of the best corporals at the right attack, and a most efficient sapper”[[177]]—was killed by a round shot, which made a trough in his chest and tore out his heart. Of this non-commissioned officer Lieutenant-Colonel Tylden thus wrote: “This morning corporal Ramsay was killed while at his duty in charge of a detachment opening embrasures of the battery opposite to the light-house at Inkermann; and such is the high character this non-commissioned officer bore, and such the very high opinion entertained of his merits and services since he joined the siege, that I am inclined to submit to the major-general commanding royal engineer, that some recognition of his merit be recorded in corps orders.” Impressed with the justice of this suggestion, Lord Raglan gave directions that his name and deeds be recorded at Chatham. Private William Taylor was severely wounded in the right hand. Two casualties out of this weak brigade induced the artillery adjutant to relinquish the employment of the men by day in so fatal a spot. At night the work was completed by four sappers under the foremanship of corporal George Cann.
During the night of the 10th there were allotted to the engineers seventy-three sappers, who were so disposed that the repairs were executed with promptitude. The trenches were knee-deep in mud; the night was foggy, and the wind and rain, though heightening the miseries of the men, scarcely interrupted their exertions. Of the 9-pounder battery on the left attack, the revetments of one of its epaulments, penetrated by wet, subsidized and partially tumbled down. Efforts were made to restore it, but the morning broke before the desired solidity was attained. In every battery of the first parallel the embrasures were rebuilt and several magazines repaired and strengthened. Three embrasures were also reconstructed in the Picket House battery, and several gun and mortar platforms mended in different places. Among the numerous works on the right, the 21-gun battery and those bearing the numbers 8 and 11 claimed especial attention. When the working party had been removed at three o’clock in the morning three brigades of sappers were retained to finish the repairs. By daylight the embrasures, merlons, and parapets were all squared, even to their crests, and ready again for action.
Sixty-six fresh sappers were at work on the 11th. With the assistance of strong parties of the line all essential repairs were made to the batteries, traverses, &c. Sand-bags were filled in great numbers, and a magazine cave on the left of the second parallel of the Chapman attack was completed. The mud was cleared away in several places to the depth of eight inches. Pools standing in hollows or rocky localities were drained off and a flooded magazine was relieved of the storm water by baling. Difficulties like these added vastly to the fatigues of the workmen, and now and then, as a shell with its roaring fuze plunged near them, their only resource for safety was to dive into the turbid soil, from which, when the danger passed, they arose more picturesque than comfortable. The Major-General commanding made known in orders his appreciation of the good conduct of the companies in performing the laborious duties required of them in the siege.
Corporal William Hollis and private Joseph Finch were this day distinguished among their comrades for quickness and cleverness in the batteries, imperilled as were their lives by the enemy’s fire. It occurred in this way. The parapet on the right of No. 8 battery in the third parallel of the left attack had been washed down by the storm for several yards. It was an object of great moment to restore it, with a view to protect from enfilade a two-gun battery on its right. The ground was so muddy the two sappers were obliged to undermine the low parapet by drawing from it some dry earth and spreading it in the direction of their exertions to render their task less heavy. No sooner had they repaired the revetment with sand-bags and thickened the work as far as an elbow of the trench, than they were appointed to clear the embrasures of the new battery on the right for two light field-pieces to play on the quarries, which, harbouring a nest of expert marksmen, picked off our artillerymen at the guns. Wanted in a hurry, it was impossible to provide platforms in the time named, and a couple of boards for one gun having been laid to assist the recoil, in a few minutes a 9-pounder was run up to the aperture and fired on the quarries. At every discharge the boards sank deeper into the soil; now one, then the other was depressed so much that the gun heeled on either side and threw it out of the line of aim. Energetic attempts were made by the sappers to rectify the defect by forcing earth under the plank which happened to be lower; but the next discharge driving the boards still deeper in the mud and tilting the gun it was evidently useless to persevere in a service which demanded labour altogether disproportioned to its questionable advantages. Both embrasures were finished and supplied with temporary platforms in the night, and afterwards the battery swelled into a formidable structure—No. 14—armed with 32-pounders.
Larger contingents of men were sent to the attacks the following night, among whom were 90 sappers and miners. This was rather an effective party, and the weakened works were reproduced in as strong a condition as practicable. A new mortar-battery—No. 12 on the right—was also completed, and the great 21-gun work, with its ragged revetments, worn platforms, and disfigured magazines and traverses, was adjusted in a manner that, however dexterous were the men who wearied themselves in patching up its breaches, still bore the rugged features of its stern resistance.