The Express.
London, England, 1855-02-03 00:00:00

OFFICER AND SOLDIER IN THE CRIME

We (Manchester Guardian) have ranch pleasure in
insertieg the following extract from a letter written by
John Hopkins, a private in the Grenadier company of the
97th Regiment, a native of Preston, to his brother in that
town, dated Christmas-day, as the Mr. Dawes, the aim
whose kindness is so justly eulogised, is a son of Mr. lie&
thow Dawes, of Westbrook', Bolton, and will be knoll. ID
MA,m that neighbourhood :
I was attacked with the diarrhoea almost as 'out as I
landed here. I contiaued to do my duty till I was a mere
skeleton. We have trench duty, which, to a sick man, was
indeed trying. I did not like to give in till forced to do so
by weakness. The trenches are full three miles from our
amp, and we have had continual rain every day. In going
Ines trenches we have to cross two ravines, which, in wet
weather, are complete rivers. About three weeks age I was
for what is called the advance works, in the day. It is
situated about 200 yards front the Russian lines—a very
dangerous pest. We crossed the ravines ; it was more than
ones deep in water. It rained heavily ell day, till about
4 o'clock in the evening. It was too deep in mud in the
trenches to walk about. We bad, therefore, to stand
in the wet, with atones under our feet, leaning spinal
the breastwork. I tried to amuse myself, firing at every
moving object I could see in the Russian lines ; but as even-
ing came, I was beat up. I was not able to stand or walk ;
but, me dear Bob, I had many kind friends, and amongst
them is an officer. He joined our company in Pantaloon ;
has name is Mr. Dawes, a native of Bolton. He has shown
a decided liking for me since he first knew me. Upon the
day in question he was on duty with me ; in the morning he
gave me his arm to help me along. In the evening, I told
him it would be midnight before I got to camp ; he took my
rifle from me, slung it on his back, and told me to do my
best. The rain was succeeded by a heavy fag. I lost
my way home, and it was midnight before I got to camp.
I was wet through. I bad eaten nothing for 24 hours ;
all I took was my grog, a gill of rum. I laid down in my
tent, and the next morning was carried to hospital
more dead than alive. Every officer in the regiment
came to see me, for on coming here, I was as strong a
man as stood in the regiment, and now I was like a child
the once stout and firm limbs were gone ; my big broad
face was completely hid in the hair which grows on
it, for I have not shaved this six months; to
speak the truth, I was a fright. I was in hospital
only four days; the diarrhoea was gone, and weakness only
remained. The doctors and all about me stewed me the
greatest kindness. I was discharged from hospital, but
was to do no duty till strong. The officer, Mr. Dawes, took
me to his tent; he supplied me with every luxury that a
well-filled pans could supply, and told me to make free
with anything that was in his tut. We are served out with
c3ffes is Its green state, and we have to roast and grind it—
that is, to pound it—in a bag between two mallets. When
done, it is bad. The officer, therefore, gave me what tea
I could use, a good glass of whisky punch twice per
cheese, rice, fresh bread, and, if I could get anything fir
money, he would give me his pone to satisfy myself. My
dear brother, what would I not face by the side of such an
officer ? Would I shrink from death ? Perish the idea!
I em now recovering fast, and should this arm recover its
former strength before the attack en Sebastopol, should he
want its aid, how freely shall it be extended towards him.
I had many little presents from other officers, and soon, my
dear Bob, shall the light and merry song of happy Jack be
heard in camp spin."