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The colonel and his two majors rode at the head of each regiment, richly dressed, on small but spirited horses, covered with rich saddle-clothes, and followed by their pipe-bearers, The mules, with the tents, marched on the right, and the artillery on the left; each gun was drawn by six horses; the baggage animals marched in rear. The regiments marched in columns of companies, most of the men were armed with the old flint-lock muskets, which were clean and bright. They all displayed rich standards blazing with cloth of gold, and coloured flags with crescent and star embroidered on them. All the men carried a small pack with a blanket on top, a small piece of carpet to sit on, and cooking utensils. As they marched along they presented a very warlike appearance, the reality of which was enchanced by the thunder of guns at Sebastopol, and the bursting of shells in the air. The troops attended divine service on Easter Sunday; the Roman Catholics have erected a small chapel in the 4th division, and a priest celebrated mass outside the chapel, and preached a most eloquent sermon. The troops were formed up in close column by regiments, forming three sides of a square the chapel filling up the fourth side. It was a very imposing sight; the square of soldiers standing with fixed bayonets, and presenting arms at the elevation of the Host, the priest in the centre, bare-headed, and his vestments flowing in the breeze. The Protestants attend divine service in the open air regularly on Sundays, since the chaplains to the forces have arrived. On Easter Sunday the French had High Mass in each of their camps, with all the pomp of military bands. On last Saturday the regiments of the 4th division turned out every man off duty, and dug a deep trench and built a fence round the burial ground, placing a rustic gate at the entrance.

CHAPTER XIX

BOMBARDMENT – TENTS BLOWN DOWN – SIEGE – LIEUT. WILLIAMS – WOUNDED – SAILORS – GO TO HOSPITAL – DESCRIPTION – SARDINIANS – DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITAL – ATTACK ON QUARRIES – FLAG OF TRUCE – BURYING THE DEAD.

Easter Monday at daybreak, the whole line of batteries simultaneously opened fire on Sebastopol; and as the firing commenced, the overhanging clouds seemed to have burst with the terrific thunder of the big guns and mortars, and the rain poured down in torrents accompanied by a high breeze; so thick was the atmosphere that even the flashes of the guns were invisible, and the gunners must have fired at guess work by the flashes of the enemies' batteries, as it was impossible to see more than a few yards in advance. A driving sheet of rain and a black sea fog shroud the whole camp, which has resumed the miserable aspect so well known to us already; tents have been blown down, the mud has already become very deep, and the ground covered with slush and pools of dirty water. Our batteries are thundering away continuously in regular bursts, and are now firing at the rate of forty shots a minute; when they first opened they fired eighty shots a minute, but, with the down-pouring of rain and fog, it is hard work. As it was not necessary to press the gunners, they have slackened the fire considerably.

The Russians were taken completely by surprise when our batteries opened fire. The Redan and Garden batteries came into play at once after we opened, but some time elapsed before the Malakoff or Mamelon answered. A sharp fusillade took place in the night between our advanced trenches and the enemy. The piquets were reinforced on the heights of Balaklava, and on the plain at night.

Lord Raglan, Sir John Campbell and General Jones, R. E., as wet and drenching as the day was, posted themselves in their favourite spot at the Green Hill trench, whence they could get a good view along the whole of the batteries. At five o'clock the sun descended in a dark pall, which covered the sky, and cast a pale light upon the masses of curling vapour across the line of batteries. The outlines of the town were faintly visible through the mist of smoke and rain. It seemed quivering inside the lines of fire around it. The ground beneath was lighted up by incessant flashes of light, and long trails of smoke streamed across it spurting up in thick volumes tinged with fire. This glimpse of the batteries, brief though it was, proved extremely satisfactory. The French batteries were firing with energy on the Flagstaff and Garden batteries, which were replied to very feebly by the enemy.

April 12. The 17th Regiment furnished 450 men for the trenches. After being inspected at sundown by the Brigadier, Colonel McPherson, C.B., we marched down to the Green Hill trench, under the command of a field officer; the 68th Regiment furnished a like number. As we were relieving the 21st and 57th Regiments, the Russians opened fire with tremendous salvoes from their batteries. Our gunners made excellent practice, and soon silenced several of their most troublesome guns, and at every shot the earth was knocked up out of the enemy's parapets and embrasures; our shell practice was not so good as it might be, on account of bad fuses.

The French had silenced ten guns on the Flagstaff batteries, and had inflicted great damage on the outworks. On our side we had silenced half the guns in the Redan and Malakoff; but the Barrack and Garden Batteries were not much injured, and kept up a brisk fire against us of round shot. During the night the firing was very heavy on both sides; there was a continuous roar of big guns and mortars. We discharged large quantities of rockets into the town, and our mortars kept up a steady fire on the Redan and Garden batteries. During the night we were greatly exposed to the enemy's fire, for we were employed, as hard as we could work, in patching up embrasures, platforms, and mounting big guns; we had mounted two guns in the second parallel, broken platforms were renewed, and damaged guns replaced by others.

April 13th. At dawn this morning the batteries on both sides commenced their terrible duel as usual, and it was evident that the Russians had wonderfully exerted themselves to repair damages during the night; for they had replaced four or five damaged guns, repaired broken embrasures and injured parapets, and were as ready to meet our fire as we were to meet theirs. The firing has not slackened all day; about three o'clock we were repairing the battery on the left of the second parallel, when the Russians opened a fierce fire of shell and round shot; one of the latter knocked the head clean off the shoulders of one man, dashing his brains into Captain O'Connor's face, and all over the breast of his tunic. As he was getting the man's brains washed off his face and clothing, a piece of shell struck Lieutenant Williams, and cut his eye clean out of his head. As I was gazing with horror at the officer's eye hanging down on his cheek, a piece of shell struck me on the head, cutting through my forage cap and sinking into my skull. This was all done in less than five minutes; the shelling was fearful. I have seen six shells burst in the trench at one time. Lieutenant Williams and myself, with several others, were hors-de-combat for some time after. The doctor in the Green Hill trench dressed our wounds, when we were conducted by a couple of bandsmen to the hospital.

The sailors have suffered severely, although they only work about forty guns in the different batteries; they have lost more men in proportion to their number than any of the other siege trains; at the time I got wounded they had then seventy men killed and four wounded, besides two officers killed and four wounded. The sailors in Chapman's battery silenced five of the best guns in the Redan yesterday; but the Russians replaced them during the night, and opened fire from them in the morning. The Redan is very much damaged on the right and front face, already four of the embrasures are knocked level with the inside of it, but the Russians work hard repairing their batteries during the night; they are so numerous they can spare the men; besides they have not to carry shot and shell as far as we have. When I got to the hospital the doctor examined my wound and dressed it and put me to bed; the first I lay on since I left Gibraltar last year, and the first time I was ever sick in hospital. The change seemed to me a strange one – the doctors were so attentive and unremitting in the care of the sick and wounded men, and so many hospital orderlies waiting on us. I did not think at the time that I deserved such attention and kindness as they were bestowing on me; for I often saw a man getting an uglier wound from the crack of a shillally at a fair in Ireland, but the doctor made me believe that the wound was much worse than I thought it was at first.

There were many men in hospital with diarrhœa, dysentery, and a few with scurvy; sick and wounded men kept coming in from the camp and trenches, day and night; the worst cases are to be sent down to Balaklava. I am glad not to be one of them, I do not want to go far from my dear old regiment. At the end of three weeks, I was returned fit for duty once more, thanks be to God, and recommended for light duty for a few days.

May 2nd. I was discharged from hospital this morning; the day was warm and beautiful, and a gentle breeze fanned the canvas of the wide spread streets of tents, for we have only two wooden huts up for the 17th Regiment as yet. I was anxious to have a look at old Sebastopol once more, and see how it looked after the storm of shot and shell which I have heard roaring and bursting for the last three weeks that I have been in hospital; so I went up to Cathcart's Hill, just at the left of our camp ground. As the day was clear and fine, the reports of the guns and rifles became more distinct, the white buildings, domes, and cupolas of Sebastopol stood out with menacing distinctness against the sky, and the ruined suburbs and massive batteries seemed just the same and looked as strong as when I saw them three weeks ago.

May 16. The Sardinians are massing on the hills all round Karanyi daily. Three steamers have arrived yesterday laden with these troops. They have landed all ready for the field, with their transport horses, carts, mules, and vehicles; they looked gay, and every one admired the air and carriage of those troops. Our eye was much struck by the large, gay plume of green feathers on the top of their dandy shako. The officers wear a plume of green ostrich feathers. They carry very small square tents which are upheld by their lances stuck in the ground, one at each end of the tent, and their encampment, with its flags all round it, has a very pretty effect. We are all very sorry to hear that Miss Nightingale has been ill with fever in Balaklava.

June 3rd. For the last two weeks firing has been very slack, and trench duty has gone on quietly with two and three nights off at a time. The Russians throw an odd shell into our trench, to remind us that they are on the alert; we can see the shell black in the shining sun, as it describes its circle high in the air, and at night they are more plainly seen – with a tail like a comet, they are heard whistling, coming through the air, apparently up among the stars.

There has been an unusual languor on the side of the Russians. Some say it is due to sickness raging in Sebastopol, others say it is due to the desire of economizing ammunition, but most of us think that it is the warmth of the weather that has dulled their energies. But there is one thing that we do know, for we can see it, that they are working away to strengthen and provision the fortress on the north side.

June 6th. At three p.m., the whole of the batteries encircling Sebastopol have once more, for the third time, opened a most terrible fire on its batteries. The English and French are now in strength and power equal to any achievement, and in the best of spirits, and are anxious to get a good charge at the Russians with the bayonet. Every one feels that the intention of going beyond a vain bombardment is tolerably plain, and we think with some strong defiance of the risk. This afternoon Lord Raglan and General Pellisier, with their staff, rode through the camp, amidst the cheers and acclamations of both their armies. There cannot be any doubt as to the zeal of those whom they command.

Our fire was kept up for the first four hours with the greatest rapidity. The superiority of our fire over the enemy became apparent at various points before nightfall, especially on the Redan, which was under the special attention of the sailors' batteries. After dark the fire slackened somewhat on both sides, but the same relative advantage was maintained by our artillery.

June 7th, at 11 a.m., a shell from the enemy exploded a magazine in our eight gun battery, and a yell of applause by the Russians followed the report. Happily the explosion caused very slight harm; one man killed and one wounded. As the day wore on, it leaked out that something of import was undoubtedly to take place before its close, and that the double attack would probably commence at five or six p.m. The fire on our side which had continued until daybreak steadily assumed a sudden fury at three o'clock, and was kept up from that hour to the critical moment with great activity. The affair itself came off but little after the anticipated time. It was about 7 o'clock p.m., when the head of the French attacking column climbed its arduous road to the Mamelon. A rocket was thrown up as a signal to our division, and instantly the small force of our men made a rush at the Quarries. After a hard hand to hand fight we drove out the Russians, and turned round the gabions and commenced to fortify ourselves in our newly acquired position. At the same time the French went up the side of the Mamelon in most beautiful style, like a pack of hounds trying to rout a fox from his old cover; the Zouaves were upon the parapet firing down upon the Russians; the next moment a flag was up as a rallying point, and was seen to sway to and fro, now up, now down, as the tide of battle raged round it; and now like a swarm they were into the Mamelon, and a fierce hand to hand encounter with the bayonet and musket ensued; and after a very hard contested battle, the French succeeded in driving the enemy from the Mamelon.

In the meantime our men fought at the Quarries, and repelled six successive attacks of the Russians, who displayed the most singular daring, bravery, and recklessness of life to obtain possession of the Quarries.

June 8th. Repeated attacks were made on our men in the Quarries during the night, who defended their new acquisition with the utmost courage, and at great sacrifice of life, against superior numbers, continually replenished. More than once there was a fierce hand to hand fight in the position itself.

The most murderous sortie of the enemy took place about 3 o'clock in the morning; then the whole batteries were lighted up with a blaze of fire, and storms of shot were thrown in from the Redan and other batteries within range. When morning dawned the position held by both French and English was of the greatest importance. The morning brought out on every side, along with the perception of advantage gained, and a prey lying at our feet, all the haste and circumstances of the scene, with its painful consequence of death and suffering. On our side about 400 rank and file and 40 officers were killed and wounded. The French had 1,200 killed and wounded. Next day flags of truce were hoisted from the Malakoff and Redan and Flagstaff batteries, which announced that the Russians requested an armistice to bury their dead; it was a grave request to make in the midst of a fierce bombardment, evidently a ruse to gain time, events hanging in the balance, success, perhaps, depending upon the passing moment; but it was granted by Lord Raglan, – I dare not criticise his lordship, – from one o'clock until six in the evening, during which time no shot was fired on either side, while the dead bodies which strewed the hill in front of the Quarries were removed from the field of slaughter. The corpses which encumbered the earth, and were in process of removal, gave out faint tokens of coming putrefaction; fragments of bodies and marks of carnage were interspersed with, as usual, gabions and broken firelocks.

During the five hours' armistice the enemy, with their wonted perseverance, had been making good use of their time, which we knew they would; and when the firing commenced, which it did instantly the flags were lowered, a few minutes before 6 o'clock, it was plain that the Malakoff and Redan had both received a reinforcement of guns; so much for politeness, – for the Russians were most artful in hiding their working parties during the armistice.

June 11th. We had many men killed and wounded during the night in our new positions, into which the Russians kept firing grape and canister from the batteries which flank the rear of the Redan.

News had reached the camp that Miss Nightingale has quite recovered from her serious illness, and that she has embarked on board Lord Ward's steam yacht for Scutari. We all pray and trust that she may so improve in health and strength as to enable her to come amongst our wounded men once more at Balaklava hospital; for her presence there is worth all the doctors' medicine. God bless her, prays an honest Roman Catholic. This morning I received, from my wife in England, a letter which conveyed to me the sad intelligence that my youngest child, Elizabeth, had died on the 30th of last April.

CHAPTER XX

BOMBARDMENT – THE ASSAULT – GREAT REDAN – THE BATTLE – BALAKLAVA – HOSPITAL – MISS NIGHTINGALE – NURSES – PROMOTED – DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITAL – DEATH OF LORD RAGLAN.

After the contest for the rifle pits and Mamelon, on the 8th and 9th, a temporary lull took place in the siege operations, which was necessary, in order to make preparations for a yet more formidable assault on the Malakoff and Redan, of which the Mamelon and Quarries were mere advanced works. Therefore, on the morning of the 17th of June, 1855, the batteries of the allied armies before Sebastopol opened fire from the whole line of trenches, from left to right. The tremendous roar of big guns and mortars was terrible. What a pity that this bombardment had not been kept up until the general assault took place next morning, which Lord Raglan had intended; but in order to suit the wishes of General Pellisier, it was most unfortunate that his Lordship was induced to abandon his intention, instead of which the Russians were allowed to strengthen their batteries and reinforce them with troops owing to the lull in the firing. By the time the assault was made, they were well prepared to meet us.

June 18th. At 2 o'clock in the morning, the 4th division, under General Wyndham and Sir John Campbell, consisting of the 17th, 20th, 21st, 57th and 63rd Regiments, were marched down to the twenty-one gun battery; thence by files through zigzags to the Quarries, under a galling fire of shot and shell from the Redan, the 17th Regiment leading. As we reached the Quarries, the men got packed closely together in such a small space; and the Russians, having the exact range threw the shell right amongst our men, tearing them to pieces, throwing their legs and arms high in the air, as we stood there a target for the Russians waiting for the two rockets which was the signal from the French, when they got into the Malakoff. A shell struck Sergeant Connell of the Grenadier Company, tearing him to shreds, and throwing one of his legs fifty yards off, which was found afterwards and known by the regimental number on the sock. That leg was all of him that could ever be seen afterwards. Paddy Belton, the third man from me, got struck with a shell and torn to pieces, and several others. We had much better have tried to get into the Redan, than to stand there in suspense, a target for shell and shot. The sailors and 20th Regiment were told off to carry scaling ladders and wool packs; the latter were placed on the field, as cover for the riflemen, who were told off to cover the advance of the storming party, firing at the Russian gunners, through the embrasures. As the ladder party advanced toward the ditch of the Redan, a storm of grape, canister, rifle bullets and pieces of old nails and iron, was discharged from the big guns of the Redan, besides a cross fire from the curtains of the little Redan and Malakoff, causing great slaughter to the small party of sailors and 20th Regiment. I saw one of the ladder carriers knocked down from one end with a shot, when the weight of the ladder devolved on the other man who dragged it along the best way he could, till he was also knocked over. After hard tugging several had got as far as the abatis, where they had another delay; for during the night the Russians had repaired and strengthened it. This obstructed the advance of the ladder party, who used the greatest exertions to remove that barrier; all who were not shot worked through and deposited their ladders in the ditch of the Redan. Of those who fell, their ladders lay on the ground between the Quarries and Redan. The ladders were barely deposited in the ditch, when Lord Raglan gave the order for the advance of the storming parties, which consisted of the 17th, 21st, 57th and 63rd Regiments. This small party, led by Sir John Campbell, were to attack the left side of that immense and formidable stronghold, the great Redan.

The light division, led by the gallant Colonel Yea, consisted of the 7th, 23rd, 33rd, 34th, 77th and 88th Regiments, the right side, and the 2nd division the centre or apex. On the signal being given, Captain John Croker sang out at the top of his voice, "Grenadiers of the 17th, advance," when the company bounded over the parapet, like one man, led by their captain, followed by the other companies. When the Russians saw us advancing, they opened such a terrific fire of grape, canister and musketry, that it was almost impossible for any man to escape being hit. As we advanced up to the abatis, Sir John Campbell was shot, also my noble captain, John Croker, who was struck with a grape shot in the head, and fell.

LINES ON THE DEATH OF SIR JOHN CAMPBELL AND CAPTAIN JOHN CROKER

Who fell leading the assault on the Great Redan, June 18th, 1855

 
Ye Grenadiers! who fear no foe and scoff at death,
Full well I know that, to your dying breath,
You'll fight like warriors, or like heroes fall,
So now obey your Queen and country's call.
 
 
To crush those Russians with relentless hand,
And scale their ramparts like a gallant band,
Let John Campbell's orders be our guide,
We'll fight and conquer by that hero's side.
 
 
Nor will we humble at the Russian bear;
While God is with us we need never fear;
Grasp tight your swords for victory's glorious crown,
And share with none those deeds of high renown.
 
 
The warriors brave around John Croker stood,
Within the Quarries ready for to shed their blood,
While Captain Croker on the signal given,
Cries, "Grenadiers, advance! and trust your fate to heaven."
 
 
Stung with desire, they raised the battle-cry,
And rushed well forward to win the fight, or die;
Our captain waved high his sword, and then
Onward he dashed, followed by all his gallant men.
 
 
Who with one loud hurrah, the silence broke,
And charged like Britons through the fire and smoke;
A moment more and then the bloody struggle came,
With roar of cannon and with flash and flame.
 
 
While piled in ghastly heaps the brave soldiers lay,
Filling the trenches with their dead that day,
John Croker's voice was heard above the battle din,
Leading his company through death and slaughter then.
 
 
Until at last the fatal bullet riven,
Laid our hero low and sent his soul to heaven;
Deep was the grief and sorrow at his loss we bore,
As that noble chieftain lay weltering in his gore.
 
 
While round his ghastly corpse we bravely tried
To quell the sweeping torrent of the rushing tide
That rushed upon us with such resistless fire,
And levelled our heroes in heaps, there to expire.
 
 
But few escaped of the forlorn band,
Of that chivalric company Croker did command;
But those who did, stuck by their leader still,
And laid his corpse to rest on Cathcart's Hill.
 

T. Faughnan.

At this time, if the commander had supported us, we would have taken the Redan; but the few men who were sent out were shot down. Scarcely a man advanced as far as the Redan but got either killed or wounded. I got shot through the right arm, fracturing the bone. As I was coming back, covered with blood, for the wound was severe, I saw a man named John Dwyer, who got struck with a grape shot in the thigh. He said to me, "Oh, Faughnan, I am kilt entirely." He had scarcely spoken, when a round shot struck him again and put an end to his sufferings. I was conducted to the ravine, at the Woronzoff road, by a drummer, where the doctors and hospital orderlies were in their shirt-sleeves, hard at work, amputating legs and arms, and binding up wounds; it was fearful to see all the legs and arms lying around. After the doctor stopped the blood with a patent bandage, he dressed my wound, and sent me to hospital on an ambulance waggon with twelve other wounded men. During the assault on the Redan and Malakoff, the third division, under General Eyre, consisting of the 9th, 18th, 28th, 38th, and 44th Regiments, with a company of picked marksmen, under Major Felden, of the 44th Regiment, were pushed forward to feel the way, and cover the advance. At the signal for the general assault, the 18th Royal Irish, being the storming party, rushed at the cemetery, and got possession, dislodging the Russians with a small loss; but the moment the Russians retired, the batteries opened a heavy fire on them, from the Barrack and Garden batteries.

The 18th at once rushed out of the cemetery towards the town, and succeeded in getting into some houses; Captain Hayman was gallantly leading his company when he was shot. Once in the houses, they prepared to defend themselves. Meantime the enemy did their utmost to blow down the houses with shot, shell, grape and canister, but the men kept close, though they lost many men. They entered these houses about six o'clock in the morning, and could not leave them until eight o'clock in the evening. The enemy at last blew up many of the houses, and set fire to others. When our men rushed out of them the fire was now spreading all over. The 9th also effected a lodgment in some houses, and held their possession as well as the 18th. Why were these men not supported by large bodies of troops, so as to take the enemy on the flank, and round behind the Redan? Whose fault was it? Not the men's! Whose fault was it that the Redan was not breeched by round shot, and the abatis swept away before the assault was made? Not the men's. Whose fault was it that large supports were not pushed forward to the Redan, on the assault being made? Not the men's. Nothing can be compared to the bravery, daring and courage of the officers and soldiers of the British army, when they are brought properly into action; but when a handful of men are sent to take a stronghold like the Redan, armed as it was with all sorts of destructive missiles, and manned by an immense force, it could not be expected that men could do impossibilities. An armistice to bury the dead was granted by the Russians, and at 4 o'clock in the afternoon of the 19th, white flags were hoisted on the Redan and Malakoff, and in an instant afterwards burying parties of the French and English emerged from the trenches and commenced to carry off their dead and bury them in rear of the trenches, all in one grave, and in their clothes as they lay, except the officers who were taken to camp, and buried at Cathcart's Hill. Many wounded men were found close to the abatis, who were lying there thirty-six hours in their blood-stained clothes, in the scorching sun, without a drop of water to quench their thirst. Several had crawled away during the night, and hundreds had died of their wounds as they lay. After the burial was over, the white flags were lowered and firing commenced again once more. As the ambulance waggons moved along the Woronzoff road towards the hospitals, I could not help regretting our loss in officers and men, more especially Captain John Croker. He was a very strict officer, but a very kind gentleman; that is, he expected every man to do his duty faithfully and zealously, and beyond that, he was indulgent, generous, and always anxious for the comfort, happiness, and amusement of his company. A better, braver, or more dignified and gentlemanly officer, a kinder friend than Captain John Croker was not in the service, nor one more precise, more exacting, more awake to the slightest professional neglect of duty and his loss to the grenadier company, I am sure, will be deeply and sorely felt; he was a native of the County Limerick. On arrival at the hospital the doctor examined my wound, and found that the bone was fractured. He then set it, after taking out three splinters, dressed it, put it in a splint, gave me a glass of brandy, and put me to bed. The hospital was getting so crowded I was one of a party of wounded men who were sent down to Balaklava hospital on mules, next day at ten o'clock. The number sent down from the division was two hundred; each mule carried two patients; we sat back to back. On arrival at Balaklava hospital, we were told off to comfortable huts, each containing beds or cots. The wounded men were separate from the others; those very severely wounded were put to bed, and at dinner time one of Miss Nightingale's ladies came round, and spoke kindly to us, and examined our wounds, which we appreciated very much; and at tea time the same lady brought us arrowroot and port wine. Next morning the doctor dressed our wounds, and the lady brought us all sorts of delicacies. How different to the camp rations of salt junk and hard tack; and now we had a real lady to nurse us and attend to our wants. I thought that it was worth getting wounded to have such attendance. Nothing could surpass the kindness and attention which these ladies showed the wounded men; each of them has a certain number of patients under her care; and truly their kindness and unremitting exertions did more good to alleviate the pain and suffering of the wounded men than all the doctor's medicine. The weather was so very hot that my arm began to swell, so that the doctor got alarmed and consulted another doctor, when they decided to amputate my arm. I did not like the idea of losing my arm, but the doctors thought the swelling would get into my body; so when the nurse came round with the arrowroot in the evening, after she had washed and dressed my wound, she advised me not to have my arm taken off, but go down to a spring that gushed from a rock at the foot of the hill and there hold the wound under the stream as long as I could bear it, every day. I did as she told me. I then told the doctor that I would not have my arm taken off. I sat at the spring all day, except at meal times, and held my arm under the cold water that rushed out of the rock, and at the end of a week the swelling reduced. From that time it began to get better; I was in good health and was allowed to walk round the hills during the day. The head surgeon, Dr. Jephson, allowed us every privilege, and our nurse brought us note paper, envelopes and postage stamps, so that we could write home to our friends. The invalids were allowed to roam round the rocks all day between meal times. The hospital, which has been recently established, affords great comfort to our sick and wounded men, who will be saved the evils of a sea voyage to Scutari. It already presents the appearance of a little village with small patches of gardens in front of the huts; and its position on those heights, among the rocks, overhanging the sea and steep crags, which wind up past the old Genoese tower that stands at the entrance of Balaklava harbour, to the height of our camp over the sea, is strikingly picturesque. The judicious surgical treatment of my arm, and the careful manner in which the doctor's directions were carried out by our nurse, together with holding it under the stream of cold spring water, soon restored it to use again; several other men whose wounds were very severe were fast improving under this lady's care. Her assiduity and skill as a nurse, as well as the gentle kindness of her manner, fully warranted the greatest respect from her patients, who almost idolized her, whose presence in the hut stilled the pain of the wounded men. We often wondered whether she ever slept, as she seemed to be always attending one or another of her charge. Miss Nightingale had left Balaklava for Scutari a few days ago, so I had not the gratification of seeing that heroic lady, whose honoured name is often mentioned among the soldiers of the British Army with the most profound respect – that high born lady Florence Nightingale, the sick and wounded soldier's friend, whose name will be handed down to future generations, as the greatest heroine of her sex, who left her happy home with all the genial associations, comforts and social attractions which her birth, education and accomplishments so well enable her to appreciate; going out to a country wherein every turn spoke of war and slaughter; taking up her abode in an hospital containing none of her own sex save those noble ladies who accompanied her as nurses; watching and tending the sick from morning till night, among hundreds of wounded, sick, emaciated and hungry soldiers. All these things considered, there has indeed rarely, if ever, been such an example of heroic daring combined with feminine gentleness. Although there is a heroism in charging the enemy on the heights of Inkerman, in defiance of death and all mortal opposition, worthy of all praise and honour, yet the quiet sympathy, the largeness of her religious heart, and her wondrous powers of consolation, will ever be remembered with the love, thankfulness and affection of the soldiers of the British Army, and by no one more than T. Faughnan.