My squadron was nearly annihilated before we reached the Russian battery,
every officer being either killed or wounded. Myself and horse had been
knocked down once and my lance shot away. After our passing through and
silencing the guns my first thought was to look for directions from an
officer, and I rode to Lieut. E. L. Jarvis, still living I believe a
retired Major, of the 13th Light Dragoons, as his uniform was so nearly
like that of the 17th Lancers, that I first thought he belonged to my
regiment. Lieut. Jarvis pointed to a cannon that was being taken off at
a gallop towards our right rear, and said, “Let’s capture that gun.” We
immediately charged upon it. Jarvis shot one of the horses in the head,
bringing it to a stop. I cut down the gunners with my sword. We both
dismounted and took out the dead horse, when more stragglers of the
Brigade came to our assistance. Private John Smith, C Troop, 17th
Lancers, now living in London, mounted one of the horses to the gun
carriage and we started off the field with it when a large body of
Cossacks charged upon us completely surrounding us. I fought my way
through and was pursued down the valley by seven of them into a body of
Russian Hussars re-forming. I had no alternative but to charge through
their line, which I did, an officer striking my head with the sword, my
lance hat saving my head except for a bad bruise. A brigade of Russian
Hussars were retreating down the valley pursued by about forty of our
men. I rode from the right flank to the left flank of the rear rank
calling to the men to fall back. Private Clifford of my troop rode into
the column and was cut to pieces before my eyes. The Hussars came about
and we were then between two large bodies of cavalry, one marching up the
valley, the other down, so that the few of our Brigade who were farthest
beyond the Russian guns were now completely hemmed in by a great body of
Russians. At this critical moment, when there was no officer to command
us and we were apparently lost, I beg leave to introduce the words of a
comrade still living describing my conduct.
[Picture: The Only Squad Rallied Through The Guns]
J. W. Wightman, late 17th Lancers, in _Nineteenth Century_, May,
1892.—“We heard the familiar voice of Corporal Morley, of our regiment, a
great, rough, bellowing man from Nottingham. He had lost his lance hat,
and his long hair was flying out in the wind as he roared, ‘Coom ’ere!
coom ’ere! Fall in, lads, fall in!’ Well, with shouts and oaths he had
collected some twenty troopers of various regiments. We fell in with the
handful this man of the hour had rallied to him, and there joined us also
under his leadership Sergeant-Major Ranson and Private John Penn, of the
17th. Penn, a tough old warrior who had served with the 3rd Light in the
Sikh war, had killed a Russian officer, dismounted, and with great
deliberation accoutred himself with the belt and sword of the defunct, in
which he made a great show. A body of Russians blocked our way. Morley,
roaring Nottingham oaths by way of encouragement, led us straight at
them, and we went through and out at the other side as if they had been
made of tinsel paper. As we rode up the valley, pursued by some Hussars
and Cossacks, my horse was wounded by a bullet in the shoulder, and I had
hard work to push the poor beast along. Presently we were abreast of the
Infantry who had blazed into our right as we went down; and we had to
take their fire again, this time on our left. Their firing was very
impartial; their own Hussars and Cossacks following close on us suffering
from it as well as we. Not many of Corporal Morley’s party got back.”
After Wightman fell I kept a group together through the battery, again in
position and then ordered them to separate for safety. Private James
Cope died in India, and James McGregor, 4th Light Dragoons, since dead,
reported to our regiment with me. We were the last to get back to the
regiment.
The names of Cope and McGregor are appended to my first application, 17th
October, 1856.