Born at Hospool, near Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk c.1829.
Enlisted at Brighton on the 27th of September 1852.
Age: 23.
Height: 5' 9".
Trade: Carpenter.
Appearance: Dark complexion. Hazel eyes. Black hair.
"Deserted" on the 8th of February 1853, until arrested and brought back on the 30th of January 1854. Tried by a Regimental Court martial and imprisoned 30th of January — 12th of March 1854.
It would appear that he was also branded with the letter "D" and all previous service to be forfeited against pension or long service awards. This was however, restored by Authority of the War Office, dated 24th of August 1864.
He is mentioned by James Wightman in his "Memoirs" for an incident during the Charge. (See copy in the "Memoirs" file.)
I have mentioned that my comrade, Peter Marsh, was my left hand man; next beyond him was Private Dudley. The explosion of a shell had swept down four or five men on Dudley's left, and I heard him ask Marsh if he had noticed 'What a hole that b---- shell had made' on his left front. 'Hold your foul-mouthed tongue,' answered Peter, 'swearing like a blackguard when you may be knocked into eternity next minute!'
Sent to Scutari on the 26th of October after being wounded in action at Balaclava, where he suffered a severe fracture of the collar-bone.
Embarked for India from Cork aboard the S.S. "Great Britain" on the 8th of October 1857.
The muster rolls for the period July-September 1858 show him as being "On Detachment at Sholapoore" during the whole of this period.
Served in action against the rebels at Zeerapore on the 29th of December 1858 and at Baroda on the 1st of January 1859.
From Private to Corporal: 1st of June 1859.
Corporal to Sergeant 18th of June 1862.
Tried on the 18th of August 1865 by a Regimental Court-martial for "being drunk in camp" and reduced to Pte.
Re-engaged at Colchester for a further 12 years' service on the 1st of November 1865.
Discharged from Dublin on the 22nd of November 1870:
"Unfit for further service. Has Cataracts — vision of the left eye almost lost and that of the other is seriously impaired — likely to be permanent and will thus materially affect his trade of a builder. His constitution is also impaired from climate and effects of service."
Served 18 years 340 days [sic].
In Turkey and the Crimea, 2 years. India, 7 years 6 months.
Conduct and character: "good".
In possession of three Good Conduct badges.
Aged 42 years 6 months on discharge.
Fourteen times entered in the Regimental Defaulter's book. Twice tried by Court-martial.
Was granted a pension of 11d. per day.
Entitled to the Crimean medals with clasps for Alma, Balaclava, Sebastopol, and the Turkish medal.
Mutiny medal without clasp.
His documents confirm the award of the Crimean, Turkish, and Mutiny medals.
Member of the Balaclava Commemoration Society in 1879.
To live c/o. "The Post Office", Bury St. Edmunds, on discharge, but he was living in the Greenwich District from April 1871.
See the record of 1479 Thomas Williams, 11th Hussars, about a possible connection with the Hastings, Sussex area.
In an Account and Address Book formerly used by James W. Wightman when the latter was Secretary of the Balaclava Society, his address is simply shown as "London". His name is crossed through, but not with the word "Deceased", as was usual, with no indication as to date, and he does not appear to have been sent a Rule Book and Membership List.
[To tidy up and integrate above.]
Letter from Private Thomas Dudley (number 1134), 17th Lancers, to his parents. [113]
Scutari General Hospital,
My Dear Father and Mother, — Dec. 18, 1854.
I hope this will find you and all my dear sisters well, as I am happy so say I am fast recovering, and hope soon to be as well as ever. In my last I only just told you I was alive, and my whereabouts. I have more leisure now, and am better
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[151]
able to write you a little more in detail. First, a little about that fatal 25th October charge. When we received the order, not a man could seem to believe it. However, on we went, and during that ride what each man felt no one can tell. I cannot tell you my own thoughts. Not a word or a whisper. On on we went! Oh! If you could have seen the faces of that doomed 800 men at that moment; every man's features fixed, his teeth clenched, and as rigid as death, still it was on — on! At about 300 yards I got my hit, but it did not floor me. Clash! And oh God! what a scene! I will not attempt to tell you, as I know it is not to your taste, what we did; but we were Englishmen, and that is enough. I believe I was as strong as six men — at least I felt so; for I know I had chopped two Russian lances in two as if they had been reeds. Well, I got out of the melee, but, in returning, my poor horse was shot down, and me under him. Poor beast! I believe he struggled to release me. You will hardly think I took time to give the noble brute a last look, but I did though; he was a fine creature.
Well I got to my legs, and was fortunate enough to catch an officer's charger, got up as well as I could, and so got to camp, and next day got packed off to this place, and many times have I thought it a very lucky hit for me in two respects: first, if it had been an inch further to my neck, it would have been all up with me; next it sent me here to be laid up in lavender — at least, compared with what the poor fellows are undergoing at camp; but I dare say it is not all true that is said about that, any more than it is about this place.
By the bye, I stuck the paper you sent in the fire. The lies in it were shameful. Never was a place worse libelled. I don't believe there is a man here but would feel as I do about it. Why, here we have all the comforts we can desire; at least, well expect. A poor fellow can't utter a groan, or hardly a sigh, but some kind soul is at his pillow. If Miss Nightingale had been dropped by Heaven, she could scarcely have done more good. Talk of the men not being grateful! Many a noble fellow here would marry his nurse out of sheer gratitude, if he could do her the honour thereby, to say nothing about the thoughts of mothers and sisters: Yes, this will set a man thinking about his own fireside comforts and those that are far away. Of course, after a large and fresh arrival of sick and wounded here is some confusion — how should it be otherwise? But the next day all is set in order. The medical staff is, as far as I can judge, excellent; and I can say something about it, having been here nearly two months. I have written some scores of letters home for other poor fellows, and they all express themselves as I do. I know I am in no hurry to go back, but I suppose I shall soon. I believe I might get sent home if I wished, but they would say that looks like cowardice, so that won't do; but, however, I will make the most of it while I stop here. We hope to get a bit of old English fare at Christmas — 3 bit of plum pudding &c. I shall think of home and you all while eating it; so wishing you all a Merry Christmas and happy New Year, and better times, I leave you for the present.
[Presumably this is from Anthony Dawson, Letters from the Light Brigade>]
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Version from Crimean War Newsletter, Volume 12, No 132 (May, 2020)
No.19
From No 1134, Private Thomas Dudley, 17th Lancers
The following is an interesting letter from a wounded soldier of the 17th Lancers. It bears ready testimony to the kindness of Miss Nightingale and her assistant nurses:
Scutari General Hospital, Dec. 18, 1854.
Dear Father and Mother, I hope this will find you and all my dear sisters well, as I am happy to say I am fast recovering, and hope soon to be as well as ever. In my last I only just told you I was alive, and my whereabouts. I have more leisure now, and am better able to write you r little more in detail.
First, a little about that fatal 25th October charge. When we received the order, not a man could seem to believe it. However, on we went, and during that ride what each man felt no one can tell. I cannot tell you my own thoughts. Not a word or a whisper. On — on we went! Oh! if you could have seen the faces of that doomed 800 men at that moment — every man's features fixed, his teeth clenched, and as rigid as death, still it was on-on. At about 300 yards I got my hit, but it did not floor me. Clash! and oh God, what a scene! I will not attempt to tell you, as I know it is not to your taste, what we did but we were Englishmen, and that is enough. I believe I was as strong as six men — at least I felt so: for I know I chopped two Russian lances in two as if they had been reeds. Well, I got out of the melee, but in returning, mv poor horse was shot down, and me under him. Poor beast I believe he struggled to release me. You will hardly think I took time to give the noble brute a last look, but I did though: he was a fine creature. Well I got to my legs and was fortunate enough to catch an officer's charger, got up as well as I could, and so got to camp, and next day got packed off to this place, and many times have I thought it a very lucky hit for me in two respects; first if it had been an inch further to mv neck, it would have been all up with me certain; next, it sent me here to be laid up in lavender — at least, compared with what the poor fellows are undergoing at the camp; but I dare say it is not all true that is said about that, any more than it is about this place.
By the bye, I stuck the paper you sent in the fire. The lies in it were shameful. Never was a place worse libelled. I don't believe there is a man here but would feel as I do about it. Why, here we have all the comforts we can desire; at least, well expect. A poor fellow can't utter a groan, or hardly a sigh, but some kind soul is at his pillow. If Miss Nightingale had been dropped from heaven, she could scarcely have done more good. Talk of the men not being grateful! Many a noble fellow here would marry his nurse out of sheer gratitude, if he could do her honour thereby, to say nothing about the thoughts of mothers and sisters. Yes, this will set a man thinking; about his own fireside comforts and those that are far away. Of course, after a large and fresh arrival of sick and wounded here is some confusion — how should it be otherwise? But the next day all is set in order. The medical staff is, as far as I can judge, excellent; and I can say something about it, having been here nearly two months.
I have written some scores of letters home for other poor fellows, and they all express themselves as I do. I know I am in no hurry to go back, but I suppose I shall soon. I believe I might get sent home if I wished, but they would say that looks like cowardice, so that won't do; but, however, I will make the most of it while I stop here. We hope to get a bit of old English fare at Christmas — a bit of plum pudding, &c I shall think of home and you all while eating it; so wishing you all a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, and better times, I leave you for the present, and remain your affectionate son, Tos. Dudley. 30
30 The Morning Post, Thursday, February 1, 1855, p.3.