The Press. — London, England, 1855-02-03 00:00:00

that. FEBRUARY 3,1855. Original ytittrs from tilt Qtrimta. Camp before Sebastopol, Jan. 13, 1855. Dear S.,—l was sorry to hear you had been dis appointed at Vi., as I had hoped that the exigency of the time would have pushed you through nolens volens. Never mind, though, you seem to have got tired of the place, and two more years would have been a bore. Last night I hoped to have had a good night's rest, having been on duty the night before in the trenches and kept awake the night bef re that with a tremendous faceache ; but no, my old enemy, my face, attacked me tooth and nail, and after tossing and swearing for three hours I got up, lit some charcoal, at the imminent risk of suffocating the man who slept in the 'tent with me, melted some ice (everything is frozen), and drank hot rum and water and smoked till reveilli% I then dropped asleep, and woke up about half-past eight, not a bit the worse for my three bad nights, face better, and ate a good breakfast. It is very odd my face is never bad in tha day time nor when I am out at night, it is only bad when I want to sleep. You can't fancy anything so miserable as beeing seedy in a tent with the snow and sleet driving in at the badly-closed door and covering you as you sleep. By Jove, how I shall enjoy a house after this ! I don't think anything would make me grumble in England now. I have within the last few days incurred two most irreparable losses. First, my box from the P. is un doubtedly lost, containing a fur pelisse (which 1 want very much just now), and God knows how many other good things ; secondly, the other night, on an advanced post., scrambling about in the dark over slippery rocks and snow to visit and post my sentries, I most cleverly managed to work my pistol out of its holster and lose it. I wouldn't have lost it for 201. Of course, now that I am without a pistol I shall be engaged in a sortie and get taken prisoner, or stabbed if I am wounded, or some such pleasant Russian treatment. These are two pleasant things to happen to a Christian. I wonder what the third will be; I suppose I may count the faceache for It is snowing and blowing to-day terrifically, or else I should have gone into Balaklava to replenish my larder, which is very low, having nothing but some ration pork and a Dutch cheese. I had hoped to have seen it replenished by the P.'s box ; but no ! lam a jolly lucky fellow! Then D. never turning up, and K., of the 20th, being sick at Scutari ! Never mind, I must look forward now to the two boxes you have sent me. What made you direct them to the Commissary-General? I hope it will answer, that's all, though I doubt. The Russians made a sortie last night in the Woronzoff road, and took thirteen men of the 08th prisoners. It is a place that I am very often at. The number of sick in the British army at present is estimated at 12,000. _ JAN. 15. Last night I received a letter from the M. Many thanks to her for it; you can't conceive how much I enjoy a letter, however short, out here. I wish when ever any of you write you would send me a Times of the latest date possible. The cold and snow is so great now that yesterday I began to dig down into the earth. I have lowt red the floor of my tent three feet already, and intend to go down two or three more. I expect to be much warmer down there. The snow is now lying about three or four feet all over this plateau, and, there not beiug a tree, or shrub on it, the glare from the immense surface of white snow quite blinds you if you look at it. I find that I am obliged to keep my eyes fixed up in the air. What horrid management there is about everything at Balaklava! My box arrived there, was sent ashore to the divisional store, and there lost (or prigged). I am awfully hard up for boots, comforters, and fur coat, &c. Notwithstanding all the trouble you have all taken to send me all sorts of things, I have not received a single thing either from you or the P. since I landed; and there, as I told you, I lost half my baggage. 4Never mind, though ; I am quite well now, and as long as I remain so it does not matter how uncomfortable I am. With this snow it is almost impossible to get to Balaklava, and I am almost starving. I can't eat the salt ration—stringy beef and fat pork. Yesterday I bought a small loaf of stale bread and a box of sardines, and paid ten francs for the two! Everybody, even the most sanguine, really begin to think now that the weather, if it lasts, will shut us up, and will prove another 1812 to us. How are we to get up rations and firewood? and how can we expect men to walk ten miles and carry heavy loads when they are already worn out with harass•ng fluty in the trenches? The winter has been threaten ing its approach for a week or two, and during that time, if ordinary and strenuous exertions had been made, they might hare got up huiS and firewood ;0- nt fcr a month. But no. Not the slightest fore- THE. I?RESt3, thought is exercised by anybody in authority out here. Too LATE ! TO() LATE ! should be the words inscribed on the Crimean medal. How I laughed to see the pictures of the army in winter costume in the Illustrated, and how they gull the British public if they make them believe that ! The only thing that Government bas givon me is one pair of drawers, which we got to-day, and that is all 1 expect to get.. A. few of the men in each regi ment have been served out with sheepskin coats. The post goes out this evening, and I suppose I shall be iu the trenches to-night. I must go MI try and get something to eat before I go down there. 4 good many buts have arrived, and they weigh two tons and a half each, and would require between twenty and thirty horses to bring up each hut, so there is an end of our ever getting them up here. Good bye, dear Charley—Yours affectionately, The Barrack Hospital, Scutari, Jan. 12, 1855. My dear —, You expected to hear from me from the camp, but I have had a severe attack, have been sent down here to recover, and I feel thankful to add that every day I gain strength, and hope, in a very short time, to be able to return to my di vision. You wish to know something of the state of our troops in the Crimea. They are undergoing suffer ings and hardships unparalleled in the history of the British army, and they endure them with a fortitude beyond all praise. Alma and Inkermann have given this army a character for bravery in the field which not only this but all future generations will acknow ledge; and they are now displaying other qualities not a whit less worthy of admiration—l refer to that high sense of the duty they owe their Sovereign and their country that prevails amongst our soldiers in a most pre-eminent degree, a feeling that enables them, day after day and night after night, with pa tient resignation to do their duty in the trenches, despite of cold and wet, while their feeble limbs will carry them there; and when they can no longer work, and they are carried to the hospital tents, they calmly look at their state, and, like Christian men, they prepare to meet their God. They receive your instruction as that of a Christian minister and an am bassador of Christ. With joy they listen to the glad tidings of good things; they receive the glorious Gospel as little children, and when you tell them of the eternal punishment that would surely be in flicted ou the sins they had committed, were it not for the sacrifice of Him who is a propitiation for the sins of the whole world, with the big tears of re pentance in their eyes they bring their sins to the foot of the Cross, and, in humble faith, pray to the Father to wash them out in the blood of His be loved Son—even in that fountain which is &pen for all sin and uncleanness ; and then, after finishing the prayer, they lie back on their blanket, in the damp tent—l dare not say in misery, for that peace that passeth the understanding of the world is broadly marked on their brows. But I have been led away from the subject on which you wished for informa tion. Our brave fellows are, indeed, suffering se• verely : part of that suffering, arising from the snow and wet, is unavoidable ; but the melancholy part of it is, that a great deal might be done which is not done to alleviate their sufferings, and increase their comforts. You are aware that in the camp we 4 0 - pen(' on Balaklava for everything. Now there are in the harbour and shores there both Government supplies and private parcels from friends, that would be of the greatest use to our officers and men, hut, though we are only five miles away, they never reach us; nor are we made aware that those things so much required are to be had in Balaklava. In fact, the officials of that place, with one or two ex ceptions, seem to be without brains in their head, and they want a more important requisite than even brains—they want heart. They are utterly careless of the comforts, I may say, of the health and lives of our brave soldiers, and they are perfectly callous to their suffering. This is a heavy charge to bring against any body of men, and therefore, out of many cases that I could mention, I shall here state two, to prove the justness of the charge. The first case came under my own personal knowledge, therefore I can vouch for its accuracy. The second was men tioned tome by one who, from his position, was ne cessarily acquainted with a man in a high official station, who mentioned it to me with an indignation that, did credit to his heart. First Case.—An i fficer I shall call A was for some time prostrate with fever in the camp ; his medical men saw that his life depended on his immediate removal, and ordered him on board ship ; but how was he to get there ? he might wait for a week for a conveyance, and if he remained two days longer in his damp tent, in all human probability he would never leave it alive. There was nothing else for A but to saddle his horse on a wet, raw day ; he rode down to Balaklava in the delirium of fever at the time; he rode tot the office of Dr. —, who gives the order to the patient to go on board ship. (This order has then to be countersigned by Captain —, who names the ship, and is supposed to tale care that each sick officer is sent on loard a ship when there is room for hint and he will be attended to.) Dr. was absent, so, after waiting an hour in the office, be began to get chilled and feel the effect of his damp clothes. Having fortunately a friend residing in the town, he went to him. That friend saw the state he was in, and pqt him into his own bed, got the order from Dr. —, and got it coun tersigned by Captain —, for the ship —. The next day A went on board the ship named, but every cabin was full. There was not even bed or bedclothes iu the ship for him, and bad it not been for the kindness of the same friend, who sent his own bed, &c., on board, he would have bad to re main up in the saloon all that night. As it was, the bed was made up in the head of the saloon, and there he was left for four days suffering from fever and diarrhoia (and its attendants), unvisited by any one of the medical staff of Balaklava, unnoticed as if he were dead. At the end of four tla3s lie was put on board another ship, where Dr. saw him for cer tainly not longer than one and a half minute. The first time he just looked at his tongue, ordered him some medicine, and just called to ask how lie was on two occasions afterwards during the time (I believe eight days). Thus lie wa; on board this ship, where by the bye there was neither tire nor stove for the invalids, though the cold was bitter, and the snow falling fast. Meantime some of his friends came from the camp to see him, and, finding him a mere skeleton, unable to leave his bed, they represented it in the proper quarters, and ho was named in general orders for Scutari. He was then put on board another ship that I wish I could name, for every officer on board of her seemed to make the comfort of the sick men their chief care. Here the doctor of the ship took him in charge, and under his kind treatment in a few days A was able to crawl out to the tire in the saloon, and by the time he got to Scutari could walk up to this hospital, though on the day he was put on board his legs refused their office. Second Case.—You are aware of the number of warm coats sent from Trieste to our army in camp. The first batch a them went up in the ship —, and when the captain called on the Balaklava official and mentioned his cargo, the official's reply was, "We don't want clothing, we want food," and he absolutely refused to take the F,rest•coats, though at the very time our men in the camp were perishing of sheer cold. However, the captain could not see the misery in the same light as the official. The snow on the hills around convinced him how much those coats were wanting to our poor fellows in the trenches, and he at once proceeded to land his cargo on the beach. However, the official still continued of the same mind ; he refused to give the captain a receipt forthe coats, or to take them in charge, and there they lay on the Balaklava beach (how long I know not), with, as I have already said, our men perishing of abso lute cold in the camp. How long will the people of England stand this? You no doubt grumble at it, and are indignant when you read of such things in the newspapers; but why is not something done! Why is not a person with due authority sent out by tiovernment to cleanse this Augean filth of official heartlessness and incapacity that has rendered Bala klava a byword in Europe, and has caused so much suffering to our brave soldiers ? Already I have written I intended; however, there to mention, for I don't thi before the public. A great in the management of ou burthsn. They are kept up out to the different divisions at Balaklava. Now, the arrangement is manifest. could keep your animals never attain on the side of place, when they were q: you would send them up and, as they would draw the army would have the loads, whereas the mules -gni) their own forage (no inconsiderable loads, and so much lost to ' those poor wretched belts( wet when they are fresh i ever be said to be fresh), carts, and then, alter sten& klava when they are jaded, to get up to the camp, and the road, or if they manage they are heated and tired, on the hill side, they chill. die in a short time. In the stabling of our mules improvement. And in subject are two other points Lion. You are going to send it would be equally useful sober English farm-servants, , of farm horses, to take charge of the mules, for it is IN I I a much longer letter than ire is one point more I wish iink it has been yet brought eat practical mistake is made our mules and beasts of up in the camp apportioned ions in place of bent; stabled e advantage of this latter r. In the first place you Is in a condition they can of a cold hill; in the nalt luite fresh in the morning, with their load to the camp, their forage from the ships, the benefit of their entire s in camp must bring up inconsiderable part of their to the soldiers) ; and again, sts, exposed to the cold and in the morning (if they can , are going down with their Landing for hours at Bale- ed, they have their load still ml they either break down on age to reach their quartets d, and, exposed to the cold 11, become unserviceable, and every point of view, then, a at Ilalaklava would be an connection with this same Ants I think worthy of men- send out a body of navvies. hi if you sent out a body of ants, accustomed to the care