Crimean texts
[Transcribed by Megan Stevens]
We are enabled to give our readers very full accounts of the state of affairs in the camp before Sebastopol up to the 7th, that is, 18 days ago. This is quite as much as the moderate public — at least that portion which has not husbands, sons, or brothers in the Crimea — will expect; though, as we suggested near three months ago, there is no reason whatever why there should not be a regular post from Balaklava twice a-week, in 12 days viá Constantinople and Marseilles, or every 10 days viá Varna and Bucharest. The state of affairs on the 7th is, by comparison, thought to be encouraging, though the news is not wholly on one side. Fine weather had sent in, and there was prospect of a frost. This would enable the allies to get on with the trenches, and to bring up guns, ammunition, food, clothing &c.; on the other hand, it would also enable the Russians to bring up new hordes of reinforcements. The latter had withdrawn a large part of their forces from the Tchernaya to the interior, but they had left enough behind to hold the position. On our side, reinforcements were still arriving in numbers, but we had as many as 3,000 invalids in the hospital at Balaklava, 4,000 at Scutari, and a considerable number in the hospital marquees at the camp. The new Turkish reinforcements were dying by wholesale, chiefly, as it would seem, from mere famine and misery, and all that could be done form them was to secure, at some additional cost of labour, that they should effectually bury their dead. It was still found impossible to clear Balaklava of the mountains of things piled, or rather buried, in the mud and filth of the harbour. Cannon, shot, and powder had formerly had the precedence, but it was now found a primary object to keep the army alive, and it was nearly as much as the few horses remaining could do to get up food enough for half-rations. By a very great effort indeed, at the last date a few heavy guns had been dragged through the mud to the park, in readiness for the batteries. The besieged, having no such difficulties of ad roads or of distance, were evidently making better use of their time than we were, and have fortified their city before we can be said to have laid siege to it. Notwithstanding the vessels sunk at the mouth of the harbour, they have been able to make a sally with a couple of small heavily armed steamers, not, however, to much purpose. At the last date the bets were ten to one against our getting into Sebastopol before New Year’s-day. Nevertheless, there was a confident and undoubting belief that we should eventually take the place. The particular foundation for this belief it would be difficult to discover, unless it be the fact that the British people do generally, though certainly not always, succeed in what they attempt; and that, having committed ourselves so deeply and staked our credit so entirely on the success of this enterprise, we are not likely to abandon it till the case is utterly hopeless or the quarrel is otherwise arranged.
Whatever may be the ground of this confidence, there can be no doubt that, in the case of men who have had the city before them for two months, and have fought three pitched battles with the Russians, besides skirmishes and sorties innumerable, it cannot be rashness. We certainly have no right to fear that they city will not be taken, if the besiegers themselves are of another opinion. Confidence is itself an element of strength, even though it is melancholy to reflect that some thousands have now felt this confidence, and in this confidence have died. There is little doubt, however, that in the course of this month there should be immense arrivals of men and all kinds of stores; and we can hardly believe that Lord RAGLAN will delay the assault beyond the hour when he finds himself strong enough to occupy the city, together with the present line of defences from the harbour of Sebastopol to that of Balaklava. Even if the year 1854 should pass without an attempt on the city, every day will add to the strength of our position before it, and, deeply as we shall regret the sacrifice, we shall, at all events, be able to send reinforcements quick enough to repair the drain by battle and other causes. The houses, railways, and “navvies” sent out, evidently point to a protracted result, but a determination to achieve the object at almost any cost.
This, of course, is thoroughly English. We wish we could say as much of the whole conduct of the war. If we have transported England to the Crimea in one sense, we have not in the sense of English humanity, prudence, mechanical genius, and variety of resources. Will it be believed that the authorities in the Crimea will neither take proper care of the sick and wounded themselves, nor allow others to do it for them? The chaplains, who at first gladly distributed the comforts procured by the fund at our disposal, have been peremptorily forbidden to do so any more, and it appears to be thought more in accordance with military discipline that an English soldier should perish from hunger or cold than that he should be clothed and fed by a private hand. Nothing could be easier than to organize a regular steam service for the carriage of the sick and wounded from the Crimea to Constantinople. One large airy steamer plying backwards and forwards, with a proper staff of medical officers, orderlies, and a sufficient stock of medicines and other stores, would save a world of trouble, such as the accumulation of sick and wounded at Balaklava, and constant courts of inquiry to consider what is next to be done when the accumulation becomes utterly unbearable. As to the state of things at Scutari, that does seem to mend. Lord WILLIAM PAULET has entered on his task with a humanity and spirit rather new in the annals of the expedition, and seems actually desirous to save the lives of the thousands thrown on his hands. Yet, for the honour of our country, for the honour of the Church of England, the credit of which is compromised in the neglect of a Christian duty, — for the honour of Christianity itself in the presence of the Turks, we do beg and pray that the British hospital at Scutari, and still more than of Balaklava, may be rescued from the miserable, disorderly state, in which they have hitherto been. Every Englishman should blush to read the contrast between our hospital and that of the French, which is rather the difference between a barbarous and a civilized people — between infidels and Christians, than between two neighbouring nations who have been a thousand years intimately acquainted with one another. We say it is the duty of Government to see that all our hospitals, at the camp, at Balaklava, and at the Bosphorus, shall be quite up to the French standard — more we cannot expect. This, indeed, would be a far more significant and impressive way of acknowledging the co-operation and virtues of our allies than any mere vote of thanks, or any other formal compliment. Let us reform our hospitals to the French standard, and do it confessedly as following their example, and we shall show in deeds our high estimation of our allies. Next to the aid that brave men render one another in the field, there is nothing that can bind soldiers together so much as working together in those pious works that remain to be done when the battle is over. We trust that Government will not allow even the prosecution of the war itself to interfere with assistance to its victims. That is not the custom even of savages, and we shall not deserve success if we seek it exclusively by the neglect of all ordinary obligations.