THE CRIMEA.--THE BATTLE OF THE ALMA.
It was in the Crimean War, as noted in the preceding chapter, that the
first Victoria Crosses were won. I do not purpose giving a history of the
war here, for space does not permit of it, nor would it be altogether in
place. But for a proper appreciation of the incidents which I am about
to describe it is necessary to say something about the events which led
up to the war. The reader who wants to obtain a completer grasp of the
campaign, the first great European war that our army had been engaged in
since the war against Napoleon, will of course turn to an authoritative
history for information, not forgetting to keep a map in front of him
while he reads.
The war in the Crimea originated in the aggressive movements of Russia
against her old enemy the Turk. For centuries the Crimea itself had been
the scene of constant warfare between the two nations, its independence
as a separate state under the rule of its own Khans being at length
secured towards the end of the eighteenth century, in the hope that peace
would come to the troubled district.
But it was not to be so. Russia could not keep her hands off the desired
province, the possession of which meant a step gained in the direction of
Constantinople and the conquest of the Ottomans. Accordingly the treaty
with the Turks was violated by the Empress Catherine, and the Crimea was
seized again by the Russians. Fortresses of formidable dimensions now
sprang up on the borders, the greatest and most famous of these being the
naval arsenal of Sebastopol, which was built at the southern extremity of
the peninsula, in the Black Sea.
In due time the Tsar Nicholas I. ascended the throne of Muscovy, and,
believing that the hostility of France towards England needed little
to be fanned into flame, he thought the time propitious to carry out
his ambitious scheme of conquest. With France involved in a war with
this country he had no reason to fear interference with his plans.
Having picked a quarrel with the Sultan, therefore, on a matter of
dispute between the Greek and Roman Catholic Churches, relating to
the guardianship of the Holy Places, especially the Holy Sepulchre in
Palestine, the Tsar flung an army into the provinces of the Danube.
But he had reckoned without his host. In the face of this common danger
(for the downfall of the Turks meant a Russian menace of the whole of
Europe), England and France sank their differences and joined forces
against the Russians. In obstinate mood, and confident in the strength of
his huge army, the Tsar held on his way, with the result that the Allies
declared war. This was in 1854.
Contrary to Russian expectations, the war opened in the Crimea. Here the
combined fleets made their appearance in September of the same year,
the troops landing on the western coast. The English army was under the
command of Lord Raglan, the French commander-in-chief being Marshal
St. Arnaud. Marching southward towards Sebastopol, at which a blow was
aimed, the allied army gained its first victories at Alma and Balaclava.
Then commenced the long and memorable siege of Sebastopol, which was not
reduced until September of the following year.
In the meantime, however, was fought the great battle of Inkerman, “the
soldiers’ battle,” as it has been called, one of the most terrible fights
that Europe has seen. This took place in November 1854.
The winter, spring, and summer of the following year were taken up
with the siege operations, which progressed but slowly owing to the
severity of the winter and the many natural difficulties to be overcome.
Our troops, too, as is now a matter of history, were scandalously
ill-equipped for the campaign, and when we read of how badly they were
clothed and fed, of what little provision there was for the care of the
wounded, and altogether of the gross mismanagement that characterised the
conduct of the campaign, we feel all the more pride that our men fought
so well and achieved so much success in the face of such tremendous odds.
The tale of those eleven months, from October 1854 to September 1855, is
one of sorties, of sapping and mining, of desperate deeds done in the
trenches in the dead of night, of the gradual reducing of the Sebastopol
outworks. Great things were done by our men at the attacks on the Mamelon
Tower and the Redan, and by the French at the storming of the Malakoff,
the capture of the last-named giving the command of the fortress. On
the night that the Malakoff fell the Russians evacuated the town, and
Sebastopol was taken possession of by the Allies.
By the Peace of Paris, which was concluded on March 30th, 1856, the war
came to an end, and our army, sadly reduced in numbers by cholera and
other diseases, more than by the enemy’s shells and bullets, returned
home.
In giving an outline of the Crimean campaign mention must not be
omitted of the British fleet sent into the Baltic at an early stage in
the hostilities. This fleet was unsuccessful in doing much damage to
the Russian ships which sought refuge behind the strong fortresses of
Cronstadt and Sveaborg, but it stormed and took Bomarsund and the Äland
Islands. In the following year (1855) it renewed the attack, and after a
determined bombardment succeeded in partially destroying Sveaborg.
It was in this naval campaign, and in the operations in the Black Sea and
Sea of Azov, that our Bluejackets and Marines did such signal service,
and that several of them won the right to put V.C. after their names.
* * * * *
Five of the Crosses won at the battle of the Alma were gained in defence
of the colours.
In the advance on the Russian batteries which were posted on the heights,
the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers formed one of the regiments on the left
wing, the French attacking on the right. It was a perilous climb up
the precipitous rocky slopes, and particularly so for a marked man
like he who bore the colours. Young Lieutenant Anstruther, a mere lad
of eighteen, who proudly carried the Queen’s colours, learnt this to
his cost, for when he was within a few yards of the nearest Russian
earthwork a bullet through the heart laid him low.
In a moment a private had caught up the silken banner now sadly stained
with blood, but Sergeant Luke O’Connor, a young Irishman of twenty-four,
who had followed close on poor Anstruther’s heels and had been himself
struck down, regained his feet although badly wounded in the breast, and
claimed the flag. “Come on, 23rd!” he shouted. “Follow me!”
It was in vain that the gallant sergeant was ordered to the rear to have
his wound attended to; he refused to abandon the colours, and right
through that fierce fight he accompanied the Fusiliers, bearing a charmed
life, as was made evident later. When the flag was inspected at the close
of the action it was found to be riddled with bullet holes, having been
hit in at least twenty-six places.
O’Connor received a commission for his bravery on this occasion in
addition to the Cross for Valour, but he did not exchange from the
regiment. Loyal to the corps he loved, he remained in it, and in time
rose to command it.
On the same day another Welsh Fusilier, Captain Bell, distinguished
himself by capturing a Russian gun which was limbered up and being
dragged from the redoubt. Leaving his company and dashing after it alone,
he pointed his revolver at the head of the driver, who incontinently
dismounted and bolted.
A private then coming to his aid, Captain Bell turned the gun team round,
and was returning in triumph to his comrades when Sir George Brown,
his superior officer, angrily ordered him back to his place in the
regiment, reprimanding him for having quitted it without leave. He had
to relinquish the gun forthwith, but some hours later, when he and his
remnant of men marched in, he learnt to his great satisfaction that the
gun was still in the English lines. The captured horses, it is recorded,
were employed in one of our batteries for some time afterwards, while the
gun itself was taken to Woolwich, where I believe it is still to be seen.
For this action, which had not escaped notice despite his commander’s
rebuke, Captain Bell received the Cross, but had it not been awarded
then he would have undoubtedly won it later at Inkerman, where he
displayed exceptional gallantry. Both O’Connor and Captain Bell became
Major-Generals in after years; the ex-sergeant of the Welsh Fusiliers,
who is still in the land of the living, enjoying the distinction of being
one of the two V.C.’s who have risen to that high grade from the ranks.
The second of the Crosses bestowed for defending the colours fell to
Lieutenant Lindsay, of the Scots Fusilier Guards, afterwards well known
as Lord Wantage.
At a critical moment in the battle an order given to the Royal Welsh to
retire was mistaken by the Scots Guards as meant for them, and they began
to retreat in considerable disorder. Lieutenant Lindsay, who carried the
regimental colours, stood his ground with his escort, endeavouring in
vain to rally the broken ranks. The tide of men swept past him to the
rear, however, and the little knot of soldiers round the colours was
isolated. In this perilous position they were fiercely attacked by a body
of Russians, the escort falling almost to a man, and leaving Lindsay
and a fellow-officer to stand back to back and keep off the enemy with
revolvers.
Help was speedily forthcoming, however. Seeing their officer’s danger,
Sergeants Knox and M’Kechnie, with Private Reynolds, hastened to his side
and successfully held the Russians in check until the regiment re-formed
and advanced again. All three men, it is satisfactory to add, were
similarly decorated.
Of Sergeant Knox more was heard later, especially at the storming of
the Redan, where he lost an arm. By this time he had been promoted
to a lieutenancy and transferred to the Rifle Brigade, from which he
subsequently retired with the rank of Major.