Don’t talk about
Sebastopol,
The Russian War is flat
now.
Just listen to despatches
Just come from Ballarat
now.
Our noble Governor, Sir
Charles,
And where is there a
better,
Has permitted us to publish
Captain Bumble’s private
letter.
He writes thus to His
Excellency,
‘Myself and Major Stiggins
Got our brave fellows all
equipped
And started for the diggins.
Our band struck up God Save
the Queen,
Into cheers our men were
bursting,
And every gallant soldier
was
For glorious action
thirsting.
‘Our first attack was on
two drays
Which we saw in the
distance,
But the enemy surrendered
After just a slight
resistance.
We were disappointed in our
search
Of these two wretched
traitors,
For instead of seizing
powder
They were loaded with
potatoes.
‘We marched but were
obliged to halt
On behalf of Sergeant
Trunnions,
Who was unable to proceed
On account of having
bunions.
We stationed pickets all
around
To give us timely warning
And there we bivouacked and
slept
Till nine the following
morning.
‘At length into the diggins,
Footsore our men did tramp
there,
And we took up our position
Within the Gov’ment camp
there;
Provisions were served out
to all
And my very soul it tickles
To contemplate their
ravages
On the cold boiled beef and
pickles.
‘We watched at night, but
all was still:
For glory we were yearning,
And we fired upon a tent in
which
A candle was seen burning.
We killed a woman and a
child
Though ‘twas not our
intention;
But that slight mistakes
occur
Of course I needn’t
mention.
‘At length in earnest was
the strife:
While buried in their
slumbers,
We made a bold and
desperate charge
And cut them down in
numbers.
Our gallant fellows fought
like bricks,
The rebels were defeated,
And then by hundreds off
they ran
And to the bush retreated.
‘Thus all is quiet and I
now
Subscribe myself your
humble
Devoted servant of the
Crown,
Frederick Augustus Bumble.
Postscript –
Pray send us up some good
cheroots
And anything that’s handy
And by all means, pray
don’t forget
We’re nearly out of
brandy.’
