[A]
E-mail from Helen Darling: 10jun08:
"I have checked the Kelso Mail for January and February 1855 and found the letter you are interested in. The letter entitled "The Cavalry Charge at Balaklava" appears in the Kelso Mail dated 8 February 1855 and it begins with the following paragraph from the editor of the newspaper:
"[We regret not having been able to insert the following very interesting communication a week or two ago. It is the production of a young native of Tweedside, where many of his attached friends reside; nor will the communication be read with the less interest that the gallant writer's life has since fallen a sacrifice in his country's cause. The young soldier's wounds have hastened him to an early grave, another victim to the brilliant, though unnecessary Cavalry charge at Balaklava. — Ed. K.M.]"
The letter was written at Scutari Hospital, December 11, 1854 and is addressed to "My dear Brother". The name of the writer of the letter is not given. The sentence 'I believed Captain Nolan was sent to reconnoitre the hills on each side' is about half way through the letter that appears in the Kelso Mail. The correct text reads as "I believe that Captain Nolan...".
The Kelso Mail dated 25 January 1855 includes the following death notice:
"At Scutari, on the 22d [2nd] January, from the effects of a wound received in the memorable charge of the Light Cavalry, at Balaklava, on the 25th October, JAMES CHARLES PURVES, 11th Hussars, third son of the late James Purves, Esq., Ford Westfield, Northumberland. Friends will please accept of this intimation."
[B]
[Full Text: (W. Murray and T. Swan, 'Borders Family History Society Magazine', Issue 58, June 2005: pp.19-31)]
My dear Brother,
You can't think what delight I felt in this miserable place to receive your most kind letter. I am glad you did not see at first whether I was wounded slightly or severely. I daresay by this time you have seen that I have been wounded severely. I must now tell you the nature of my wound. It was a canister shot through between the two bones of the lower part of the left leg, about six inches above the ankle. One of the bones was quite shattered, and amputation was found necessary. It was taken off on the field, or least in a temporary hospital we had in Balaclava.
I was sent aboard ship that evening and steamed down here in a couple of days. It would have been a good job for me if I could have disembarked next day, but the weather came on rough and only the slightly wounded could move. I lay between decks in that steamer for 10 days. You could not get any attendance, and the rain came through the deck above and regularly saturated you: the consequence of which was that buy the time I got ashore my leg had taken an unfavourable turn and I have since had a very bad bout of it, but now the doctors say it has taken a favourable turn again. I think myself, and thank god for it. My leg is cut off very long about a foot below the knee so that if I can get on all right I can get a cork leg; and having both arms I can earn a good livelihood yet.
The battle of Balaclava was certainly a disastrous affair for the poor Light Cavalry. The conduct of the Turks, in the first instance made a great odds to us all through the day, the Russians having such play at us from our own redoubts, and using our own shot and shell. However our Marine Artillery, with a tremendous lunge with some ship's guns which they had planted on the heights close above Balaclava harbour, soon regularly shelled them out of the redoubts. They now made a bold stroke for it, in their way, and came over the hill with most of their army, including a great many cavalry. The first thing they (a large cloud of Cossacks) did, was to charge about three companies of 93rd Highlanders, who however gave them such a warm reception that they turned to the right, pretty sharp. Our heavy Dragoons, first the Scots Greys and Enniskillen's charged slap at the whole front of the Cavalry, with the infantry in the rear. They went down at first like reeds before our heavies, but as there was only about one bonnie Grey or bold Enniskillen to so many Russians they began to outflank them, when the rest of the heavy Brigade charged and drove them back like a flock of sheep.
The Light Brigade was ordered to the pursuit; we and the 4th Light were on the extreme left flank, covering a troop of Horse Artillery, to keep back a division of them who were trying to outflank us in that direction. After their artillery and ours had battered away at each other for some time, the balls coming hot and strong through the coverers, a French battery of heavy metal opened upon them from the rear of Sevastopol heights, drove them back, and we could see the Chasseurs d'Afrique coming down at a gallop.
It was just about this time that we got the order to pursue, so off we went to the rear after the retiring party; we had to get through a vineyard, over a mud wall and ditch, and there were a good many downers and some fun. When we got through we went tearing up the hill after them. The Heavies were close on their rear. The Lancers and others of the Lights were closing on them, and we were coming up at a good pace and nearly into them when they got over the hills beyond the redoubts, into their strong hold in the valley and sat fronting them, when they formed as nice a trap as could possibly have been, and which nobody but a blind man could have missed seeing. They planted guns on the hills right and left of the valley and all their field guns at the end right, facing us.
I believe Captain Nolan was sent to reconnoitre the hills on each side. Whatever report he took to Lord Raglan we know not, but I expect he reported they were all clear, as he came back with an order to Lord Lucan for the Light Brigade to charge and take the field guns, and the ammunition and guns taken from the Turks. Lord Lucan asked if Lord Raglan was aware of the enemy's position? "There is the order, and there is the enemy," Nolan is reported to have said. Lord Cardigan then got the order as given, and gave the order for the brigade to advance in two lines, first the 17th, 18th, and 13th, second the 11th and 4th.
Off we went tearing towards destruction. The round shot came first, killing many a poor fellow. One most wonderfully came past my shoulder, striking my rear-rank man right in the chest. Onward we went. I could see the shell bursting over our heads, and hear the grape and canister hissing through us. The cross fire was murderous — a square of infantry and guns, with grape and canister pelting through us, and shelling from the opposite heights. But I felt or feared nothing — a sort of wildness came over me, and I seemed to care not where I went or what I did.
Onward still! The first line had retired, the guns were silenced, and, retiring behind a large horde of Cossacks, they formed a front, but would not stand our charge, but galloped through guns and everything. We cut down the gunners and literally took the whole lot. The Cossacks came out by twos and threes, and kept firing away at us from their long pieces, annoying us dreadfully. We looked anxiously round for a support, when we perceived what we considered the 17th Lancers a good distance in the rear or us. 'Hurrah, my boys,' sang out our brave Colonel Douglas, 'let's give them another charge; the 17th will be up then, and we'll take guns home with us.' 'Come on lads,' said Lord George Paget, his gallant brother-in-law, Colonel of the 4th Lights. I found myself as excited as possible, singing out, 'Come on, boys; anything is preferable to sitting quietly and being shot at.' At last some one gave the alarm that it was a large body of Russian Lancers, formed up to cut off our retreat. 'There's no help for it,' said Lord George Paget, 'we must retire, and cut our way through them as well as we can.' We went threes about, and went calmly to the rear. They did not attempt to cross our front, but attacked our right flank and rear.
I was pretty near the right flank, and, of course, retiring in the rear rank; I had allowed my horse to flag a little, when one of the gentlemen came on to attack me with his lance at a slanting position, and was making a poke for my back; I wheeled round in the saddle, parried his lance, and gave him a second rear point to the left of his right shoulder, which I expect will spoil his lancing for some time. I was quite chuckling to myself over this affair, when we came to the horrid cross fire again.
I had not gone far through till I got a rap in the leg as if from a sledge hammer. I looked down and saw the blood gushing from a good-sized hole. 'Now then, old horse' — he had carried me well through the campaign — 'save my life now!' (I had seen all over the field four or five Cossacks spiking any poor fellow who was down.) I kept the right spur at work, and galloped a mile or more, when I began to get quite blind and faint. I saw, dimly, a tent chum, I hailed to lend a hand, he heard me and came galloping; he stopped me the first thing, and gave me a good drink out of his water-bottle; that revived me, He took me to where [and] I just got to where the regiment was forming, and old Cardigan was sitting, with the tears almost in his eyes when he saw his smart brigade so cut up; our fellows cheered him, when he said, 'You must not think, men, this is one of my mad-brained actions; I would have given almost anything rather than it had happened'
I moved forward and asked to be taken to the rear; I was hurried off to the doctor (the assistant), who had a lot of our officers and men in the nice green ditch of a vineyard, where we could lie up the slope; I had lost a tremendous deal of blood, and one of the officers gave me a good swig at brandy out of his flask. The Doctor stopped the bleeding, and we had to wait some time for the ambulance, which came at last and took us off to the hospital, and you know the rest.
Give my love to all the family, break this affair very gently to my Mother, tell her I shall write in a a day or so, but it is a great exertion. And now, Dear Brother, hoping and trusting that God will allow me to see you all again, believe me your most affectionate brother,
James Charles Purves.
[James Purves died a few days later and was buried in a mass grave in the church yard at the hospital with no head stone, all we are left with is a broken headstone in Lennel churchyard to remind us of our Coldstream hero.]
[C,D.E, from a WORD document ex Roy Mills (16jun08)]:
1441 John Charles PURVES.
Born at Coldstream, Berwickshire.
Enlisted at Hounslow on the 29 of September 1849.
Age. 21. Height. 5' 9." Trade. None shown.
Swarthy complexion. Grey eyes. Dk. brown hair. His initials tattooed on his left arm.
Tried by a Regtl. Court-martial on the 2 of September 1854 for "absence without leave." Given 50 lashes.
Severely wounded in action at Balaclava and sent to Scutari on the 29 of October 1854.
Died in the Scutari General Hospital on the 2 of January 1855.
Lummis and Wynn refer to him as "Purvis."
Entitled to the Crimean medal with clasps for Alma, Balaclava and Sebastopol.
[D]
[In her book, Reminiscences of Scutari Hospital during the Winter of 1854-55, Sarah Ann Terrot, a Sellonite Sister who went out to the Crimea with Florence Nightingale, refers to a man of the 11th Hussars and from the details given could well have been Purves.]
"There was another I was interested in — a dark sad-looking youth of the 11th Hussars who had lost his leg in the same charge, rather sad and depressed in manner. On asking of his home he mentioned Berwick, but as he seemed reserved I desisted questioning him and only said that if he felt too ill to write home I would be glad to do it for him. He declined with thanks, but said he would be glad of some paper to do it himself. I got him some and saw him afterwards sit up and write a long letter with pain and difficulty which I afterwards took to Miss Nightingale to be franked. He gradually sank after this and suffering very much, his poor leg getting into a fearful condition and he died about the beginning of January.
I did not learn his history until after I came home — his father was a farmer in Berwickshire who died before his children were settled in life, or provided for. Charles was then a small lad and later came to London to seek employment. Failing this, he wrote to his mother saying that rather than hang about idle or return and be a burden to her he would, if she consented, enlist as a private. She consented, he enlisted into the 11th Hussars and very soon was sent abroad. He was well-educated, affectionate and well-conducted; the letter he sent home from the Crimea contained a spiritual { error? spirited? } account of that glorious tho' unfortunate charge which cost him and so many noble men their limbs and lives..."
[E]
[Extract from the Memoirs of R.S.M. George Loy Smith, published in 1987 as A Victorian R.S.M., Costello, Tunbridge Wells, 1987: pp.164-165]
Referring to a visit to Scutari Hospital in November of 1854:
"Wednesday 22nd November 1854
We cast anchor off Scutari. I, in company with the other sergeant-majors, at once disembarked, reported ourselves at the barracks and were told off to a large upper room, a kind of attic. Beds we were not provided with, so had to put up with a quantity of straw that was on the floor — this was clover compared to what we had been accustomed to.
During the day... I then visited the ward that contained the men of the 11th that were wounded at Balaclava and advanced each of the men of my troop 10s. They were very pleased to see me, as I was to find they were all doing well except Private Purvis, who died a few days afterwards having lost a leg...."
[F]
[The Times, Jan 17, 1855, p.7. column D]
THE CAMP BEFORE SEBASTOPOL (FROM A DRAGOON)
Scutari hospital, Dec. 11, 1854.
[Same letter but without signature]
[G]
[MACPHAIL'S EDINBURGH ECCLESIASTICAL JOURNAL and LITERARY REVIEW, VOLUME XIX: EDINBURGH: MYLES MACPHAIL, 11, SOUTH ST. DAVID STREET. LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 1855.] (Extract pp.214-215)
'As is well known, many privates of the army, and non-commissioned officers, have written excellent letters from the seat of war — and these are often printed. You will see a decent woman call at a newspaper office with a letter in her hand. It is from her son — and she expects that the 'plain unvarnished tale' will be printed — and it is worth giving to the public, as fresh and frank, and manly in its narrative. We have just before us a letter which appeared in the Kelso Mail journal, from a young soldier who was wounded in the action and is since dead. The writing is really graphic. After a good deal in the same strain the poor young fellow says:
[Extract from same letter, beginning: "I believed Captain Nolan was sent to reconnoitre the hills on each side." and ending with "and you know the rest." NB: 'believed' in error for 'believe'.]
[Source: War Correspondent, ADD INFO.]
