A Diary of the Crimea

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Text originally published in 1954 under the same title.

© Pickle Partners Publishing 2016, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.

Publisher’s Note

Although in most cases we have retained the Author’s original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern reader’s benefit.

We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.

A DIARY OF THE CRIMEA

BY

GEORGE PALMER EVELYN

EDITED, WITH A PREFACE, BY CYRIL FALLS

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Contents

TABLE OF CONTENTS 4

ILLUSTRATIONS 5

PREFACE 6

A DIARY OF THE CRIMEA 10

1854. 13

1855 91

APPENDIX — LETTERS AND OTHER RELATED PAPERS 94

I 94

II 95

III 96

IV 97

V 98

VI 99

VII 100

VIII 101

REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER 105

ILLUSTRATIONS

THE AUTHOR (1873)

BALAKLAVA FROM GUARDS HILL

LANDING PLACE RAILWAY STORES, BALAKLAVA

RUSSIAN CHURCH AND TOWN OF BALAKLAVA

HARDSHIPS IN THE CAMP

A STAFF CONFERENCE

TOMBS OF BRITISH GENERALS FALLEN AT INKER-MAN, NOV. 5TH, 1854

A GUN EMPLACEMENT

AFTER THE BATTLE

Apart from the frontispiece, the illustrations are all official photographs of the Crimean War by Fenton and Robertson—some of the earliest photographs ever taken. They are reproduced here from copies in the Victoria & Albert Museum, by kind permission.

PREFACE

THE man who kept this diary of the Crimea, George Palmer Evelyn, was born on August 21st, 1823. He was thus thirty years of age when the record began. It is fitting that a diary of his should be published because he came of the stock of one of the most famous of all writers of diaries, John Evelyn of Wotton. His Christian name was that of John Evelyn’s grandfather and elder brother.

His father, also named George, had been seriously wounded at Waterloo and had died in 1829, aged thirty-eight, after having been rolled on by his horse. George Palmer was the second of six sons. He went to Cheam School in January 1835 and left in December 1837, but there is no record of any schooling after the age of fourteen.{1} Before his Crimean experience he had, as an officer of the Rifle Brigade, served in North America and at the Cape of Good Hope, and had taken part in the Boer War of 1848. By 1853, however, he had left the regular Army and held a commission in the Royal Surrey Militia.

The circumstances of the visit of George Evelyn to the theatre of war are rather obscure. He makes no attempt to explain them but begins his diary by plunging straight into his tour with the words: Left London by 8.30 p.m. train. At that date, December 13th, 1853, Britain was not at war with Russia and was still striving to avoid war. It would seem that Evelyn set off as an authorized tourist or spectator, with some assurance that the British Embassy in Constantinople would obtain for him a firman to visit the front and see the operations. Evidence in support of the view that his position was at this time unofficial is to be found in his sudden decision to bolt from Calafat when he found the operations on the Danube dull (March 10th, 1854); in his finding himself under compulsion to return to England for the brief Militia training (April 11th, 1854), an interruption to which an official representative of his country would hardly have been subjected; and in the character of the letter addressed to Lord Raglan (August 26th, 1854) expressing his anxiety to take part in the campaign in the Crimea and his willingness to serve—as a supernumerary—with his old regiment, of which there were two battalions in the British force. He was actually on his way to the Crimea when he received aboard ship the offer of a staff appointment with the Turkish Army (September 7th, 1854).

Later on mention occurs of his being in receipt of pay from the British Government, but it seems pretty clear that this was the case only after he had accepted the appointment mentioned above. The Turks did not pay the British officers attached to their service, but provided them with the Spartan ration of rice, biscuit, and grease (December 12th, 1854). If these deductions are accepted, Evelyn appears as a man of great enthusiasm and not inconsiderable means; for he spent a good deal of money on his travelling, on buying horses—though these could be sold when no longer required—and hiring servants. He must have been an exceptionally good rider: he far exceeded the conventional daily distances and left poor horsemen toiling after him, but kept his horses fit.

Another obvious inference is that he wrote for himself and perhaps his family and close friends. Otherwise he would surely have explained the background to his participation in the war. His handwriting suggests impetuosity; it is a heavy, ugly, scrawl at times very difficult to read. He then employed a scribe, who wrote a perfect script, as legible as print, but unfortunately the scribe could not always read the original. Evelyn then dashed at the scribe’s fair copy, filled in gaps—though by no means all—and made large-scale additions. Most of these have been transcribed, but a few have defied interpretation. He cheerfully spells Turkish and Slav names in half a dozen ways, and is not very certain even about English—friends in Pera are Morris on one visit and have become Maurice on his return.

For the rest, we see in him a man of abounding energy and high physical fitness. He defied fatigue, disease, and the strain of battle. He often got what he wanted, with both Britons and Turks, by the sound principle of negotiating on what is today called the highest level. He had a genuine gift for soldiering, and was as cool and resourceful as he was brave. General Cannon’s tribute in a letter to the War Office when Evelyn was applying for the honorary rank of lieutenant-colonel is one which I do not think the most modest of soldiers could have abstained from preserving. I know of no officer in any Army on whom I could place greater confidence or reliance in the performance of his duty in the presence of an enemy than in Lieut.-Colonel Evelyn. I can assure his Lordship (Lord Panmure) that he is an active and gallant officer with good judgement and capacity.

He seems to have been popular with his brother officers. He liked the French and comments more than once on the good manners of their officers in passenger ships; with them, but not with their British counterparts as a rule, horny hands went with the behaviour of gentlefolk. On the other hand, he had little respect for their seamanship. He got on well with the Turks, though critical of their lack of energy and carelessness. He was much interested in the opposite sex. The sight of the palaces fronting the Golden Horn conjured up in his mind visions of dark-eyed beauties revelling within; he flirted outrageously with Miss B., on her way out to Malta to be married (July 5th, 1854); he and a friend whose name is erased made the acquaintance of two petites gantières at Marseilles and took them out to supper (January 25th, 1855).

I am sure that readers will concur with me in finding him a good diarist. When interesting events occur the bald entries relating to routine disappear and are replaced by vigorous detailed description. He had a critical mind, though this appears less in the diary itself than in appreciations attached to it. It would be hard to conceive anything more scathing than his remarks on the British failure in horsemastership, especially that of the cavalry, or those on the break-down in administration. It is, however, well to bear in mind that some of the worst sufferings of the force were due to the losses sustained by the storm which he so vividly describes, in particular to the sinking of the supplies of winter clothing. His battle pictures are admirable. It is to be regretted that he just missed seeing the two cavalry charges of Balaklava, though he was up in time to ride with the French Chasseurs d’Afrique when they moved against the Russian artillery in relief of the Light Brigade.

When we think of the Crimean War it is always to the Crimean peninsula that our eyes turn. We are apt also to forget how long a state of war between Russia and Turkey had existed before the British and French became belligerents or the campaign in the Crimea began. If we do recall faintly the preliminary fighting on the Danube, we neglect that which took place simultaneously in Caucasia. The war might well have begun on July 2nd, 1853, when the Emperor Nicholas, on the refusal of the Porte to agree to a convention which would have virtually given him a protectorate of all its Christian subjects, ordered his troops to cross the Prut and to occupy the Principalities of Moldavia and Walachia. Britain, France, Austria, and Prussia restrained the Turks and sought a formula which would preserve peace. Here their efforts failed. The Porte finally demanded the evacuation of the Principalities within fifteen days. Russia disregarded the note, and war between the two nations broke out on October 23rd. Actual hostilities were delayed on the Danube, but began earlier in the Caucasus. When they did start on the Danube they were indecisive, but in favour of the Turks. In particular, Omer Pasha forced a passage of the river at Calafat, which Evelyn was to visit, and secured a large bridgehead on the left bank.

Britain moved slowly into war. It had become obvious to the Government that the Tsar’s aim was the partition of Turkish dominions and, for himself, the seizure of the Straits. Napoleon III may have greeted hostilities more heartily as likely to bring popularity and prestige to a régime which had many foes at home, but even he had striven to preserve peace. The Prince Consort, who knew what he was talking about, described his attitude as moderate, but firm. However, on October 22nd, the day before Turkey declared war, the combined fleets of the two nations entered the Dardanelles.

Whether or not war then became inevitable must be a matter of surmise. On November 30th something happened which exercised an extraordinary effect on public opinion in Britain and France. The Turks had withdrawn their main fleet to the Bosphorus, but rashly left a light squadron in the Black Sea. On this date it was attacked at anchor at Sinop by the Russian Admiral Nakimov and completely destroyed. No one can deny that the Russians were within their rights as belligerents, but the British people, who had, surely with justice, regarded the Tsar as the original aggressor, were infuriated. On February 27th, 1854, the Governments of the United Kingdom and France demanded the evacuation of the Principalities. Once again the Russian Government disdained to answer, with the result that a state of war came about automatically.

British eyes had already glanced at the Crimea, but at that time it appeared certain that the lower Danube would be the main theatre of war and the Caucasus the secondary theatre. For this reason the British and French forces were directed to Varna, on the Black Sea. However, a new influence went to work just as the Russian strength in the Principalities had become great enough to enable the Tsar to prepare for a major offensive, to be followed by a march on Constantinople.

The Austrian Empire, with support from Prussia, on June 3rd repeated the demand of the British and French for the evacuation of the Principalities. Whereas the earlier summons had been disregarded, that of Austria could not be. Her strategic situation on the Russian flank ruined the Tsar’s scheme. If he had persisted in holding Moldavia and Walachia the war might well have been ended in a few weeks by the combined forces of Turkey, Austria, Britain, and France. The Russians saw the red light. They raised the siege of Silistria—in the defence of which Evelyn would have taken part with young Butler and Nasmyth, had he not been recalled for the Militia training season—and by the beginning of August had withdrawn all their forces from the Principalities. Austria did not declare war and remained neutral. She had, however, aroused a hatred in Russia which was to have its effect on subsequent politics.

Wisdom after the event suggests that if Britain and France had acted in closer concert with Austria and postponed their demand for evacuation there would have been no war. Now, with Anglo-French armies and navies in the theatre—and navies in the Baltic also—they were not inclined to turn back. They believed that Turkey merited compensation. They were determined that the history of the past year should not be repeated. The one certain means of preventing this, at least for a long time to come, appeared to be the destruction of Russian naval power in the Black Sea, including the fortified base of Sevastopol, on which it largely depended. In this belief the two powers decided to transfer their armies from Bulgaria to the Crimea. Their appreciation was correct. The settlement which followed the Crimean War, the Treaty of Paris, was not denounced by Russia until France had been laid prostrate by Germany. Even as late as the Russo-Turkish War of 1876, though Russia had repudiated the neutralization of the Black Sea five years earlier, her weakness in those waters influenced adversely her conduct of the land campaign.

Evelyn’s account of the Crimean War, meaning the war in the Crimea, is the best and most exciting part of his record. At the same time, his experiences on the Danube are interesting also, and they relate to a phase of which there were few British witnesses.

He may now be left to speak for himself. It only remains to add a few words about his later life. He received a medal with four clasps for the Crimean War, and a Turkish decoration. He married shortly after his return in 1855 Esther Emmeline, second daughter of Lewin Phillips of Frankfurt, and by her had three sons and a daughter. He became colonel