Captain Nolan after receiving the last order galloped down the steep
heights from the position of Lord Raglan and staff, finding Lord Lucan
the Cavalry Commander with the Heavy Brigade in the South Valley near the
scene of their engagement of two hours before. The Causeway Heights were
between the two Brigades so that they were out of sight of each other
though only five hundred yards apart. The Light Brigade were in position
at the head of the North Valley, with the Chasseurs d’Afrique stationed
about 250 yards at the left.
Lord Lucan describes the arrival of the order thus:—“The Cavalry was
formed to support an intended movement of the Infantry when Captain Nolan
came up at speed and placed in my hands this written information—‘Lord
Raglan wishes the Cavalry to advance rapidly to the front and try to
prevent the enemy carrying away the guns. Troop of Horse Artillery may
accompany. French Cavalry on your left.’” He said to Captain Nolan
after reading the order “Attack sir, attack what, what guns sir?”
Captain Nolan pointed with his sword, “There, my Lord, is your enemy,
there are your guns.” This conversation must have occurred in the South
Valley where the Heavy Cavalry were formed to support the Infantry and
where neither guns nor enemy were in sight. Captain Nolan probably
pointed with his sword to the Causeway Heights, where the nearest guns of
the enemy lay, and which was the point of attack intended by Lord Raglan.
Had they been on top of these heights the redoubts would have been in
sight, had the speakers been in the North Valley the words would have
been an absurdity, for the direction of the Russian Army did not require
to be pointed out with a sword. Several batteries were plainly in sight
across the valley and at each side, with thousands and thousands of
troops. It is recorded that Lord Lucan made some insulting remarks to
Nolan, telling him to quiet himself. Both of them moved over to the
Light Brigade, and Lord Lucan informed Lord Cardigan that it was Lord
Raglan’s order for the Light Brigade to charge the Russians in the
Valley. There is probably no doubt that Cardigan called Lucan’s
attention to the fact that there were batteries in front and on each
flank, and that the ground was covered with riflemen. This of course I
did not hear. I first saw Lord Lucan riding about the attacking line and
was aware that we were about to charge. I also noticed the Chasseurs
over at our left preparing to move at the same time. I saw very
distinctly what does not appear in any history, Lord Cardigan gallop on
perhaps three hundred yards in front and to the right to a piece of
slightly rising ground, evidently to reconnoitre the position of the
Russian Army and the best way-ground for his brigade. We were now in
line thus:—
*
Lord Cardigan.
11th Hussars. 17th Lancers. 13th Light Dragoons
*
Lord George Paget.
4th Light Dragoons. 8th Hussars.
Almost at the moment that Lord Cardigan had left us Colonel Douglas,
commanding the 11th Hussars was ordered by Lord Lucan to fall back to
support the 17th which they did, altering the attacking line so that we
went on in this formation.
17th Lancers. 13th Light Dragoons.
11th Hussars.
4th Light Dragoons. 8th Hussars.
This movement was executed simply by the 11th Hussars waiting for us to
advance until they were at proper supporting distance when they began to
move, for we were getting under way at the time. I never heard the word
of command to go forward from any officer. If given at all it must have
been by Lord Lucan, for Cardigan was, as I said, in advance of us
planning the line of movement and evidently did not see what went on in
his attacking line at the moment of advance. The whole movement was
executed in the greatest haste and we were quickly off at a trot.
Then in the very beginning of the Charge, when the direction we were
taking just became evident, occurred Captain Nolan’s movement that has
been the cause of so much controversy. I was only about seventy yards
from Captain Nolan and distinctly saw every movement. Captain Nolan was
in front of the 13th Light Dragoons, who took their dressing and interval
and speed by the 17th Lancers, the regiment of direction. As soon as the
brigade was fairly in motion, so that its direction down the valley was
evident, Nolan rode away from the 13th at speed to the front of the 17th
Lancers, reached a position in front of the centre of the 17th, gave his
order “three’s right” with his horse’s head facing the regiment, at the
same time waving his sword to the right, which signified “take ground to
the right,” then turned his horse and galloped towards the Causeway
Heights, still pointing with his sword in that direction. At that moment
a shell exploded and a piece of it struck him in the left breast near the
heart. Probably the unearthly scream which rang in our ears above the
roar of the opening cannonade was a dying effort to make us follow his
direction.
He remained in the saddle until the horse had cleared the right flank of
the first squadron of the 17th, in column of threes, when the horse,
finding the rider had no control over it, turned sharp to the right—the
way home—throwing the lifeless body head-first to the ground.
The 17th had instantly followed his direction and gone “three’s right.”
The 13th had gone straight on instead of checking, as they should have
done to respond to our movements. They were perhaps 25 or 30 yards in
front of us when Nolan fell. At that juncture I heard Sergeant-Major J.
Nunnerley, of the 1st Squadron—now living at Ormskirk, Lancashire—shout
in a loud voice, “17th Lancers, (Three’s Left) or Front forward!” (I
belonged to the second Squadron). We went three’s left, the right flank
of the second squadron lapping the left flank of the first one-fourth its
front or more, so that the two flanks became merged together. At that
instant, the Russian Artillery in position across the valley, fired a
volley into the 17th, which seemed to paralyse it, killing and wounding a
number of officers and men. It seemed to me a troop of horses fell,
myself and horse being knocked down with them. I remounted and followed
the shattered line. All this time I never saw Lord Cardigan at all.
Kinglake’s account of him as such a conspicuous figure on his
white-legged horse, riding in front of his command and constantly
checking the speed by orders to “keep steady,” does not agree with my
observation, although he is said to have been just in front of our
regiment.
From the time I saw him ride ahead and to one side of his command to
reconnoitre, I never saw him again till we had passed the Russian guns.
He probably joined some portion of the 13th Dragoons as they came up with
him, but that regiment scattered completely, going down into skirmish
line, having lost their base, the 17th Lancers.
No squad of it held together to pass the guns or to return. In the
tremendous uproar and confusion of such cannonading it was impossible to
have any very distinct impression. I observed everything clearly up to
the moment the volley burst in our ranks and knocked me down. After that
I simply scrambled on my horse and rode on pell-mell, and I believe Lord
Cardigan did the same. The smoke prevented anyone from seeing any
distance and the noise from hearing, so I never heard an officer’s voice
from the time Nolan fell. It was the order of the brave Nunnerley that
brought us to front forward as stated, and I heard no further orders
after that.
The Russian gunners were well drilled. There was none of that crackling
sound I have often heard in the American War and other places, where one
gun goes a little ahead and the others follow, having the effect of a
bunch of fire-crackers popping in quick succession.
In such case the smoke of the first gun obscures the aim of the rest.
The Russian Artillery at Balaclava went off at the word of command, all
together. One tremendous volley was heard with flashes of flame through
the rolling smoke. While they reloaded the smoke lifted so that they
could see to take aim again. There were probably twenty cannon at our
right firing at us, and two batteries—twelve guns—in front. The
batteries at the left on the Fedioukine Heights were in action, but their
fire probably did not affect the first lines. Their fire was directed on
the Chasseurs d’Afrique, who moved toward them simultaneously with our
move forward. The direction was such, however, that the shells would
fall among the supports, Colonel Douglas’ and Lord Paget’s lines. If we
had been moving over uneven ground we should have had some slight
protection in the necessary uncertainty of aim of the guns, but moving as
we did in compact bodies on smooth ground directly in range, the gunners
had an admirable target and every volley came with terrible effect.
There is a natural instinct to dodge cannon balls. In such fire as we
were under it changed to an impulse to hurry. There was no time to look
right or left, and the guns in front were what I looked out for. They
were visible as streaks of fire about two feet long, and a foot thick in
the centre of a gush of thick white smoke, marking about every three
hundred yards of the way, as they would reload in 30 or 40 seconds. The
last volley went off when we were close on them. The flame, the smoke,
the roar were in our faces. It is not an exaggeration to compare the
sensation to that of riding into the mouth of a volcano, but those who
did not fall were through the guns in an instant and full of fight. The
action of the scattered troops behind the battery and on the way back was
sufficient proof that they were not frightened or demoralized, even by
the proceeding—unheard of for Cavalry—of attacking batteries in front.
Before we reached the guns every officer of my squadron, the second, was
either killed or wounded, leaving no one to command us.
Thirty of the men followed Troop Sergeant Major O’Hara, and fifteen
followed Colonel Mayow, chief of Cardigan’s Staff. As I said before the
13th Light Dragoons were so scattered, that a group did not enter the
enemy’s lines together. The 11th Hussars was ordered to support us, the
17th Lancers, and we never saw them in the fight. Colonel Douglas, 11th
Hussars, Lord George Paget, 4th Light Dragoons, Colonel Shewell, 8th
Hussars, all managed to keep groups of their commands together, to enter
the line of guns. Lord Paget commanded the 4th Light Dragoons and 8th
Hussars, yet he lost the 8th and found the 11th Hussars (our supports).
The ride down the valley could not have occupied five minutes. I could
have run it on foot in seven minutes, as I was champion runner in those
days, but the formation of the brigade with which we started had been
destroyed, probably within three minutes.
Our arrival at the battery silenced it instantly, and the gunners began
to try to move the cannon away. The gospel of Russian fighting was
always to save the guns.
My first thought after we were through the line was to look for an
officer to see what we were to do, I saw Lord Cardigan at first but I had
no impulse to join him. I think no British soldier ever had. He lead
670 and none relied on him. I saw troopers riding past him to the right
and left. He was about 50 yards beyond the guns on their extreme left.
I turned to look for some one of my own regiment and mistook Lieutenant
Jarvis, of the 13th Dragoons, for one of my officers, as the uniforms of
both regiments being very similar. Lieutenant (now Major) Jarvis is, I
believe, still living. He was about 200 yards to my left front, riding
to his right towards a cannon that was retreating to the rear. I
galloped up to him and informed him that Lord Cardigan was above,
pointing my sword to the place, my lance having been shot away at the
last volley as we charged the guns. He replied “Never mind, let’s
capture that gun!” We raced towards it. He said, “Cut down the
gunners!” He shot one of the horse’s in the head bringing it to a sudden
stop. The gunners disappeared between the horses and gun-carriage as we
slashed at them. We both dismounted and took out the dead horse while
more of the Brigade gathered about to assist us. Private John Smith, who
died in a London Workhouse about the end of January, 1899, mounted one of
the horses attached to the gun, and I believe there is another soldier
living who mounted another horse of the gun.
We started back off the field at a gallop with the mounted cannon, and
were near the place where I had seen Lord Cardigan, when a large body of
Cossacks charged, who appeared from behind a hill and surrounded our
group. I was riding on the right of the gun, the direction in which the
Cossacks attacked us. In the melee I got through the wrong end and had
to ride back again down the valley. I was pursued by seven of them until
they fairly chased me into a body of Russian Cavalry with its back to me.
There was no alternative but to ride through or surrender to the
Cossacks. I put spurs to my horse and bolted into the line. I got
through with a knock on the head from a Russian officer, that would have
wounded me but for my dress cap, which I eventually lost, but the lines
saved it. More members of the Light Brigade were riding about—some of
them wounded—fighting as best they could.
Corporal Hall, of my own troop, had his lance trailing about and covered
with blood. I told him to throw it away and wanted to pick it up myself,
as I needed one, but there was no time. Hall was captured and died of
amputation of a leg.
During the melee, about 40 stragglers of the Brigade were driving a line
of Russian Hussars down the valley in close column. I rode in the rear
of them and began to order the men back. I ordered Private Clifford of
my own troop to halt, instead of which he charged into the solid column
and was cut and pierced to death before my eyes. The column came to a
trot, and walk, and then wheeled about. I turned my horse about and saw
a line of Lancers marching down the valley and instantly thought they
were the French Lancers, as they carried flags on their lances. I rode
to them, and when within 30 yards they fired at me. I then saw their
long grey cloaks and knew they were Russian. It was in fact the
Jeropkine Lancers just formed in close line across the valley, cutting
off our retreat. I turned back to my scattered comrades, who were riding
about like myself in all directions, not seeing which way to go. I
raised my sword and shouted to them to fall in. They galloped to me from
all directions, and I hastily formed them in lines, putting those with
lances in front. I believe there were eight of the 17th Lancers in the
front rank, with members of other regiments forming a second line. The
Russian Lancers were not more than 40 yards from us when I ordered them
to cheer and charge. The Brigade of Russian Hussars were marching up the
valley about 50 yards behind and there were Cossacks on each flank. The
Russians must have thought we were assembling to surrender, and when we
yelled and charged into the centre of their line, they seemed to be
paralysed.
The point of a lance through my sword hilt tore the flesh off my middle
finger, and this trifling wound was the only injury I received in that
immortal fight. Three of the men in my group fell in the charge but I
seemed to have more when I got through the lines, other stragglers having
rushed through the opening we made or rode round the flanks. We galloped
off on our way back, pursued by some of the Cossacks, firing at us, until
we came to a square of infantry on rising ground with muskets and fixed
bayonets pointing at us. They yelled something in Russian, I suppose
calling us to surrender. When they saw that we was not going to
surrender, they fired a volley point blank at us and at the shortest
range. This was fearfully destructive, and only a few of my little squad
were left. Weightman and Marshall together with others of the 17th were
captured here, one with 13 wounds and the other with 9, and were
prisoners for a year. We found the guns again re-manned and in position
again across the valley, and after we had charged through them from the
rear they opened fire on us again, as well as the infantry.
There were no more of the enemy in front and I told the men to separate.
James Cope, 17th Lancers, and George McGregor, 4th Light Dragoons, opened
out each side of myself, and we made the best of our way back up the
valley. Cope and I reported together to the regiment which had
assembled, numbered off, and been complimented by Lord Cardigan before we
got there. We were the last squad to return, and the only squad that
rallied through the guns.
The engagement may be summed up thus: There were five groups which
charged into the guns. The first two were 17th Lancers, one group
commanded by Colonel Mayow, chief of Lord Cardigan’s staff, the other by
Troop Sergeant Major O’Hara. The third group was the 11th Hussars under
Colonel Douglas. The fourth group were 4th Light Dragoons, commanded by
Lord Paget. The fifth group, 8th Hussars, Colonel Shewell and the last
regiment to enter the batteries. These five groups charged the masses of
Russian Cavalry that were supporting the artillery, time and time again,
driving them some hundred yards down the valley. This seems almost
incredible, but it must be recalled that we had no idea of the colossal
blunder of which we were victims. Our natural thought of course was that
we would be immediately followed and supported by the Heavy Brigade and
Infantry, both of which were stationed close in our rear. The French
Cavalry we know had moved and I thought they were there with us until I
had ridden nearly into a body of Russians, taking them for the French.
Of course, the Russians shared our impression that this was the beginning
of a general attack, which accounts for their temporary confusion and
partial retreat.
While these five groups were going on fighting as best they could,
scattering the Russian Cavalry, the General ordered out the Jeropkine
Lancers—fresh troops who had not been engaged in the attack on the Heavy
Brigade two hours before. These Lancers took their position between the
guns across the valley, apparently cutting off the retreat of all the
Light Brigade by forming across their rear.
The officers commanding the different groups now realised that they were
unsupported and in great danger. There was a hasty effort to join forces
to make the best of their way back. Lord Paget, happening to be near the
11th Hussars, ordered Colonel Douglas to join his command. He refused at
first, but seeing himself cut off did so, and a wordy controversy as to
who was technically in command takes up many pages in Paget’s book.
Probably, at the time, neither gave thought to anything but getting out
of the trap. Colonel Mayow and Sergeant-Major O’Hara joined with the 8th
Hussars, making two groups fighting and charging the Russian Lancers.
Some squads of the Light Brigade had not time to wheel about, but just
time to go three’s about, and charge with rear rank in front to prevent
the Russian Cavalry from charging their flanks. Not all the Brigade had
fallen into these larger groups which first cut their way out. After the
remnants of these groups had escaped the Jeropkine Lancers, six squadrons
strong were formed in line to prevent the stragglers from escaping.
The Brigade of Hussars seeing the Lancers marching down the valley and
only a few scattered enemy, halted, wheeled about, and marched up the
valley. It was just at this time and between these two bodies that I
rallied my little squad.
It is a singular thing that every authority on the Charge of the Light
Brigade gives a different number of killed and wounded, but they
substantially agree as to the number 198 which reported mounted after the
engagement.
Lord Cardigan gives 195. James Cope, 17th Lancers, McGregor, 4th Light
Dragoons, and myself reported after the roll was called.
I am only certain of the figures for my own regiment. The 17th Lancers
went into the engagement 145 and came out 45 mounted. Every officer of
my squadron was killed or wounded. We lost 13 prisoners, only one of
them unwounded, and he was dismounted, his horse having been killed. Of
these only 3 lived to return to the English ranks, two of them from my
squad—Weightman and Marshall. Weightman, who is still living as a
retired officer, had thirteen wounds, and Marshall nine wounds.