"The late Sir W.H. Russell," Inverness Courier, Feb. 12, 1907, p. 7c.   "The veteran war correspondent, Sir William Howard Russell, who had been ill for some time, died on Sunday at the age of 86. He was born in 1821, near Dublin, and after passing through Trinity College, joined the reporting staff of 'The Times'. In 1853 he was sent as special correspondent to the Crimea and was again correspondent of 'The Times' during the Mutiny and the American, Civil War, in the Austro-Prussian war, the Franco-Prussian war, and the first Egyptian campaign. Mr Russell received the honour of knighthood in 1896."     [Editorial, no title], Inverness Courier, Feb. 12, 1907, p. 4d-e.   "The announcement of the death of Sir William Howard Russell, the veteran journalist, recalls the history of the Crimean war, in which he made his reputation. To most of the present generation the incidents of that war loom dim and distant, but some who are still living took part in it, and they, as well as their surviving contemporaries, retain a vivid impression of heroic battles and fearful sufferings. Kinglake has written its history in many spirited volumes, but to readers at the time Russell's glowing and animated letters were a momentous record. At first he stirred their pulses by descriptions of the battles of Alma, Balaklava, and Inkerman, but later he roused their indignation by accounts of the miseries to which our troops were exposed by mismanagement at home and on the camping-ground. His revelations led to the fall of the Aberdeen Ministry, and to the reform of a bad system of official routine. When Russell was sent to the Crimea he was in the thirty-fourth year of his age. He was an Irishman, a native of Dublin, and had been on the staff of the 'Times' for about ten years when the editor selected him as special correspondent for the Crimean campaign. The electric telegraph has since made many changes in newspaper work. Russell, in his early experiences, came between the old era and the new, and nobly fulfilled the duties of his vocation. His battle scenes have a vivid power which inscribe the scene on the imagination. Take the following description of the charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaklava:   'The Russians advanced down the hill at a slow canter, which they changed to a trot, and at last nearly halted. Their first line was at least double the length of ours - it was three times as deep. Behind them was a similar line, equally strong and compact. They evidently despised their insignificant-looking enemy; but their time was come. The trumpets rang out again through the valley, and the Greys and Enniskilleners went right at the centre of the Russian cavalry. The space between them was only a few hundred yards; it was scarce enough to let the horses gather way, nor had the men quite space sufficient for the full play of their sword-arms. The Russian line brings forward each wing as our cavalry advance, and threatens to annihilate them as they pass on. Turning a little to their left, so as to meet the Russian right, the Greys rush on with a cheer that thrills to every heart - the wild shout of the Enniskilleners rises, through the air at the same instant. As lightning flashes through a cloud, the Greys and Enniskilleners pierce through the dark masses of Russians. The shock was but for a moment. There was a clash of steel and a slight play of sword blades in the air, and then the Greys and the redcoats disappear in the midst of the shaken and quivering columns. In another moment we see them emerging and dashing on with diminished numbers, and in broken order, against the second line which is advancing against them as fast as it can to retrieve the fortune of the charge. It was a terrible moment. 'God help them! they are lost!' was the exclamation of more than one man, and the thought of many. With unabated fire the noble hearts dashed at their enemy. It was a fight of heroes: The first line of Russians, which had been smashed utterly by our charge, and had fled off at one flank and towards the centre, were coming back to swallow up our handful of men. By sheer steel and sheer courage Enniskilliner and Scot were winning their desperate way right through the enemy's squadrons, and already grey horses and redcoats had appeared right at the rear of the second mass, when with irresistible force, like one bolt from a bow, the 1st Royals, the 4th Dragoon Guards, and the 5th Dragoon Guards rushed at the remnants of the first line of the enemy; went through it as though it were made of pasteboard; and, dashing on the second body of Russians as they were still disordered by the terrible assault of the Greys and their companions, put them to utter rout. This Russian horse, in less than five minutes after it met our dragoons, was flying with all its speed before a force certainly not half its strength. A cheer burst from every lip - in the enthusiasm, officers and men took off their calm and shouted with delight, and thus keeping up the scenic character of their position, they clapped their hands again and again.'   The charge of the Light Brigade is described with equal spirit.   'The whole brigade scarcely made one effective regiment according to the numbers of continental armies; and yet it was more than we could spare. As they rushed towards the front, the Russians opened on them from the guns in the redoubt on the right, with volleys of musketry and rifles. They swept proudly past, glittering in the morning sun in all the panoply of war. We could scarcely believe the evidence of our senses! Surely that handful of men are not going to charge an army in position?'   From such a description Tennyson drew his inspiration for the splendid verses in which he commemorates the famous charge. Russell in subsquent years went through many experiences in war. He was with Lord Clyde in the Indian Mutiny; in the war of 1866 between Austria and Prussia, in the Franco-German war, in Wolseley's campaign in Egypt in 1882. He also accompanied the present King as private secretary when, as Prince of Wales, he made his memorable tour in India, and he visited the United Slates and Canada with the late Duke of Sutherland. As time passed on other war correspondents came to the front, younger men who emulated his exploits and rivalled his graphic style. Among these Northern readers will specially recall Mr Archibald Forbes and Mr John Cameron. But they all looked up with respect to the man who had first made war correspondents famous not only in journalism but in literature. He survived most of them, carrying into old age the memory of many lands and of many stirring scenes. The present generation had almost forgotten that he lived, but his name will live in history as a splendid chronicler, not perhaps devoid of exaggeration, but honest according to his perception, full of sympathy with the common soldier, and glowing in his record of heroic deeds."