CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
BALACLAVA.
The dawn of October 25th broke dull and chill. Banks of fog hung overthe heights, and the "Valley of the Shadow of Death" lay hidden in mist,as if cloaked already with a funeral pall. Blades of grass and leavesdrooped with the added weight of the moisture, and Phil and Tony,crouching in their vineyard, shivered and longed for the sun to rise andbring warmth and cheerfulness.
A gentle breeze was blowing, and, freshening, it soon cleared the fogaway, while the mist in the valley disappeared mysteriously a littlelater. It had scarcely done so when the boom of guns on the Russianside of the heights which the two friends had crossed during the nightbroke on their ears, while flashes from four points on the summit, andstill louder reports, showed that the Turkish batteries, between whichthey had passed, were hotly engaged.
Situated as they were, close to the end of the Causeway heights, alongwhich ran the Woronzoff road, Phil and his friend were in an excellentposition to view a large portion of the historical battle which was nowcommencing. Facing across the valley, with the Chersonese height ontheir left, they looked towards the river Tchernaya, and a group of lowhills, known as the Fedioukine heights, already manned by Russian gunsand infantry. And now they gazed upon a wonderful sight. A Russianarmy of 25,000 infantry, 34 squadrons of cavalry, and 78 guns wascommencing its march, intending to cross the Causeway heights, descendinto the valley south of that ridge, and capture the harbour ofBalaclava and all our stores of food and military equipment. Andbetween them and their goal were interposed 4 Turkish batteries with 9guns in all, the foremost being two miles in advance of its nearestinfantry support, which consisted of some 500 of the 93rd Highlandersunder command of the famous Sir Colin Campbell, a few Turks, and abattery of horse artillery. In addition, some 600 horsemen, belongingto Scarlett's Heavy Brigade, lay in the valley south of the Causewayheights, while 600 sabres, composing the Light Brigade, sat on theirhorses at the opening of the Tchernaya valley--the valley now betterknown as that of the Shadow of Death, and within a short mile of Philand Tony.
"What can be happening?" asked Phil, in a voice scarcely above awhisper. "The guns we hear must be those belonging to the army thatmarched past us last night, and the cavalry are certainly the same whosang while they filed by in the darkness. What does it all mean, Tony?There must be some huge movement afoot, for I have never seen so manymen marching together, save when the Allies advanced on the Alma."
"And now it's the Russians advancing towards the camp of the Allies,"Tony answered thoughtfully. "What's their game? you're asking, Phil.Why shouldn't it be Balaclava? The harbour is just chock-full ofBritish shipping, and, if that was captured, where should we be withoutour stores of grub and ammunition? Nowhere. That's their plan, I cantell you. Depend upon it, that is what they're up to; but you'll seehow it will end. I give them a couple of hours to play about in, andafter that our chaps will drive 'em off the field."
"Then I hope we shall have a chance of joining friends soon, Tony, forto be compelled to sit here and watch the battle would be harder luckthan we bargained for. But look at the Russian army. What a grandsight it makes!"
And indeed the greatest enemy of Russia, with mind morbidly awry withjealousy and dislike, could not look upon that advancing army and failto admire.
Steadily, and with a swing which told of long practice in marching, theinfantry advanced in thick columns, rifles at the slope and caps wellset back upon their heads. And between them and on either flank rumbledheavy cannon, the drivers holding in their horses as yet, while theyturned eager eyes to the left to watch their more fortunate companionswho at the moment were engaging the Turkish redoubts. Beyond the guns,and away in front of all, rode the huge force of cavalry, squadron uponsquadron, riding knee to knee and listening to the music of the guns andthe jingle of their own equipment.
Amidst the cavalry the flash of polished brass would occasionally beseen, while sometimes, as the squadrons moved apart for the moment, abattery of small field-guns came to view, the bright metal sparkling inthe sun. But though a casual glance might suggest the idea that thesewere merely toys, given to the cavalry to play with, yet the day was notto pass before the men who manned these tiny field-guns were to showthat, protected by horsemen and capable of an extremely rapid advanceand retreat, these same batteries became a formidable item when fired atmoderately-close range.
"Yes, they make a very fine sight," Phil admitted, to himself again,"and I only wish I thought that we could beat them as easily as Tonysuggests. I wonder what our troops are doing!"
Turning his eyes to the left he swept them along the Chersonese heights,and saw a long line of infantry there hurrying towards Balaclava, whileon an eminence to the left a brilliantly-dressed group suddenlyappeared, and, lifting telescopes, fixed them upon the Russians. It wasLord Raglan and his staff.
Lowering his eyes still more, Phil swept them along the valley, and soonhit upon the Heavy Brigade, looking, even at that distance, a mostformidable body of men, while their horses, laden with cavalry saddlesof great weight and a considerable amount of kit, seemed huge whencompared to the Cossack animals.
Passing from Scarlett's famous "Heavies", Phil's eyes then lit upon the600 troopers of the Light Brigade. Bright, gallant fellows they lookedas they sat there jauntily upon their saddles and slowly rode up thevalley. And little did Phil and Tony, and for the matter of thathundreds more who looked upon them in the early hours of that morning,imagine that, long ere the sun set again and the grey mist fell uponhill and valley, more than half of those fine horsemen would be silentand still for ever.
Slowly, and as if careless of the huge mass of the enemy, they rode upthe valley till the mile which separated them from Phil and Tony wasconsiderably decreased.
There were friends close at hand, and, saddling up hurriedly, the twoprepared to gallop across to them. But now a turn in the fortune ofbattle changed their plans, for, gallantly clinging to their position,the Turks holding the battery on the extreme left nearest the Russianshad been decimated by a storm of shell, while, before they could thinkof retiring, 11,000 grey-coated infantry came rushing up at them. Whatcould a mere handful of men do in the circumstances? They broke andfled, and, seeing this, their comrades in the other redoubts also tookto their heels. Instantly a cloud of Russian horse burst from theirranks, and, sweeping into the plain, made short work of the flyinggunners.
Phil and Tony looked on, disconcerted, for to ride across to the LightBrigade now would mean almost certain destruction.
"Done again by those Cossacks!" grumbled Tony, who took all the enemy'shorsemen to be Cossacks. "Done brown this time, Phil!"
"We'll have to wait, that's all," said Phil, with a sigh of resignation."We are safe here, and it won't be long before those fellows ride back.See! they are already riding up the heights on our right after theTurks who bolted into the other valley."
This was the case, and to follow the movement we must for the momentleave the valley into which Phil looked, and ride with the Russianhorsemen over the Causeway heights.
Scarcely heard upon the springy turf, the horses' feet strike hard andring with a sound of iron upon the beaten path, and then the thunder ofa thousand hoofs dies down again as if by magic, and he who rides withthe fiery Cossack horsemen hears only the dull stamp upon the yieldinggrass, and the clatter and jangle of sabres and accoutrements. And whenthe summit is topped, another valley comes into view, running almostparallel with that just left behind, and merely separated from it by theCauseway heights, the slopes of which gently fall in rolling stretchesof green till the bottom is reached. From there the grass runs on,undulating in big waves, sometimes falling and sometimes rising, till atlast an upward sweep brings the rider to a crest from which the narrowbasin of Balaclava can be seen.
Yes, there it is, a fairy pool set in this wide stretch of green, andbearing upon its flashing surface a host of vessels, anchored andcrowded close together. There, too, is its narrow entrance, s
carcelywide enough to pass in two vessels side by side, and there, close besideits shores, is an array of huts already filled with stores, whileoutside, boxes of biscuit and barrels of salt pork are piled in hugestacks which overtop and completely swamp the dwellings.
And where is the defending force? Where are the men told off to protectthis most important harbour and its valuable contents? The rider staresand gasps with astonishment when all he sees is a handful of kilted menstanding to arms upon the sloping grass leading to the harbour. Longago their paucity of numbers was known to the enemy, and now the Russiancommander sends his Cossacks against them, hoping to sweep them asideand capture the harbour.
Rallying to their comrades, a thousand lances swept down against thethin line of 93rd Highlanders. It was a sufficiently imposing array tohave scattered a stronger body of troops, but the brawny kilted warriorswere maddened by the sight of the unhappy Turks being cut down in theirflight, and moreover, at that moment a ludicrous affair set them roaringwith laughter. They had received as supports some Turkish troops, andthese, having no stomach for a cavalry encounter, fled from the ranks.
"Let 'em go," muttered one Highlander, with a laugh. "We come out hereto fight for those chaps, and see how they help us. We'll turn thecowards into servants."
But one at least was roused to indignation. One of the women of theregiment struggled amongst the Turks, belabouring them with a club, and,catching one big fellow at this moment, thrashed him soundly, orderinghim between every stroke, and in shrill falsetto, to return to thefighting-line.
Roars of laughter and cheers ascended from the thin line of Highlanders,and laughing still they were, and bandying jokes with one another, whenthe Russians swept down upon them.
"Back, lads! back!" shouted Sir Colin, waving his sword, and having todo his utmost to keep his eager men from rushing down upon the enemy.Then came the sharp command to fire, and, a second discharge following,the Russians broke and fled.
And meanwhile the widely-separated regiments composing the heavy brigadeof cavalry were quietly riding along the valley, keeping the Causewayheights on their left. Suddenly Scarlett, who was in advance with 300of the Greys and Inniskillings, saw a perfect forest of lances upon thesummit of the heights, and not more than 600 yards away. Three thousandRussian cavalry had just come into view, and, seeing the British horse,their trumpets rang out shrill, and like an avalanche they dashed downthe slopes. Scarlett's decision was taken in a moment. "In any case itmust mean death and destruction," he thought. "Better to meet the enemyface to face than ride across their front and be cut to pieces."
"Left wheel into line," the gallant old fellow shouted, and as calmly asif manoeuvring at home the squadrons took up their new position. Andthen--think of the audacity and coolness of the action--they werehalted, while the officers, facing round, dressed the line, which hadbeen somewhat broken by rough ground. And a stubborn line it proved todress, for not a man but leaned forward in his saddle, cursing thedelay, and eager to fly forward. Hoarse growls arose from the ranks,and troopers snatched angrily at their bridles, pulling their horsesback upon their haunches, well knowing all the while that it wasthemselves and not the willing animals they bestrode that needed curbingat that moment.
"Had not Greys and Inniskillings led the field, charging side by side atWaterloo?" each man asked himself. "Yes, their ancestors were on thatglorious battle-ground; and were they, their descendants, to be keptback now? 300 against 3000 charging down upon them. What mattered theodds?"
Well was it that Scarlett delayed no longer, for his men were out ofhand. "Charge!" he roared, his eyes blazing with excitement.
His trumpeter sounded the call, and away went the gallant band, theirfine old colonel fifty yards in advance of them, mounted on a remarkablybig horse.
And the Russians, seeing this spectacle, halted. Three thousand of themhalted and pondered--almost wavered with doubt.
Crash! The gallant old colonel had struck the mass and cleft into itsvery heart, and following him, with a fierce shout of exultation, 300men rushed in, and were instantly lost to view, nothing but plunginghorses and flashing swords being visible. Truly it was a marvelloussight, and the 93rd, together with the First and Fourth Divisions, whowere marching down in support, held their breath and halted to see whatnext would happen. They had not long to wait. Gathering pace as theyadvanced, the 4th Dragoons, who were some way in rear of Scarlett's 300,thundered down upon the Russian flank, and with never a pause sweptright through the mass of cavalry from flank to flank, leaving a lane ofwounded and killed and frantically struggling horses in its path.
Ah! it was grand work that Britain's sons were doing for their Queenthat day, but more was yet to follow, for with hoarse shouts and thefierce lust for battle in their eyes, the Royals, the 5th Dragoons, andanother squadron of Inniskillings burst upon the Russians, cut their wayto join their gallant colonel, and, crumpling the enemy on every side,finally put them to flight. Three thousand flying for their lives froma sixth of their numbers! Truly it was a great day for Britain, and atthe final act a perfect torrent of hoarse cheers burst from theonlookers, head-gear was tossed into the air, and men turned and shookeach other heartily by the hand, blessing the fact that these finecavalry fellows were their brothers, and that they had the fortune to betheir countrymen.
And now let us return to the valley on the right slope of which Phil andTony lay in hiding. Unconscious of what had happened, and yet aware bythe rattle of distant musketry and the heavy booming of guns that abattle of large proportions was in progress, they itched to be moving soas to rejoin the battalion of Grenadier Guards and take their share inthe fight.
"Bother those fellows! When will they clear off and give us a chance?"exclaimed Phil impatiently, anathematising the Cossack skirmishers whostill galloped about on the plain beneath in search of more fugitives.
"Why do not our horse attack them? The Light Brigade might easily sweepthe whole lot up and give us the opportunity of joining them as theyrode by. And we'd take it, Tony," he added enthusiastically. "We havesome scores to settle, and once the chance comes we'll have a smack atthose Cossacks."
"Never fear, Phil. Take it easy, old horse. The day is only justbeginning, and our chance will come. Do yer think all them cavalry ofours will sit still and do nothing? Bet yer life they'll be sweeping uphere soon. Ah! Glad we stuck here so long. Look at them fellersreturning."
Tony pointed to a horde of mounted Russians, the flower of theircavalry, which at this moment swarmed in disorder over the Causewayheights, and swept down into the Tchernaya valley, still too muchunnerved to draw rein after their defeat by the Heavy Brigade.
"That looks well," muttered Phil. "We saw those fellows ride over halfan hour ago as cocksure of victory as possible. They've evidently hadrough handling. Why on earth does not the commander of our LightBrigade charge them? He could take them in flank, and, broken as theyare, he could cut them to pieces. Charge! Why don't you charge?" heshouted excitedly, standing up and raising his voice to the highestpitch as though it could possibly reach right across to the LightBrigade.
"Come down," cried Tony fiercely, dragging his friend to the ground."I'm ashamed of yer, young 'un. You'll be giving the whole show away,and one of them Cossack chaps will be riding for us. Wait and we'llhave a go at 'em yet. Yah! why don't yer charge?" he said bitterly,shaking his fist at the distant British cavalry.
But though the Light Brigade were ready enough for anything, as was yetto be shown, their colonel still held them back. Posted as they were,at the mouth of the valley and on some rising ground, they too hadwitnessed every incident of the battle. They had seen the gallantcharge of the `Heavies', and they bit their lips and swore beneath theirbreath, itching to be let loose, and show their comrades that they toocould ride straight, ay, and fight too, till death settled their accountif need be. As the Russian cavalry came flying in clouds over theCauseway heights, their eagerness made them almost unmanageable, andloud growls o
f anger and vexation came from the ranks. But LordCardigan, who was in command, had orders to defend his position, and tostrike at anything that came within distance of him. Undoubtedly thiswas the opportunity he should have taken, but he chose to forego it, andthereby allowed the Russians to escape, while his men looked on andfumed with rage and disappointment, and Tony and Phil hid in thevineyard and thought all manner of awful things.
But now the enemy commenced to remove the guns from the captured Turkishredoubt, and an order reached Lord Lucan--who commanded the combinedbrigades of cavalry, heavy and light--to recapture the Causeway heights.Lord Raglan had, however, omitted to provide the necessary infantrysupports, and in consequence the movement was delayed. Then a secondand more peremptory order was sent to Lord Lucan, by means of Nolan, anoted cavalry officer, who believed that all things were possible withthat arm of the service.
_Lord Raglan wishes the cavalry to advance rapidly to the front_, itran, _and try to prevent the enemy carrying away the guns_.
"To the front? What front? Surely not right up the valley and into thevery jaws of the Russian army!" everyone will mutter.
Lord Lucan also was bewildered. Long ago the captured Turkish redoubtshad sunk into insignificance, and the guns now most in evidence werethose right up the valley. That too was "front" to Lord Lucan. Thenwhat could be the meaning of this message? "Attack what? What guns arewe to attack?" he asked anxiously, fixing his eyes upon the batteries onthe Causeway heights, and then upon those at the tip of the valley.
"There," replied Captain Nolan, with something akin to a sneer, and intones which angered Lord Lucan. "There, my lord, is your enemy, andthere your guns." And he pointed away up the valley to the Russianbatteries occupying a commanding position nearly two miles away.
It was a monstrous error, for how could horsemen hope to live and beeffective after such a ride, when cannon fired directly into theirfront, while the heights on either side, converging to the apex occupiedby the battery, were lined by more guns and by infantry in huge numbers.On whose shoulders rests the onus of the terrible error it is almostimpossible to state. Had less ambiguous orders been issued it wouldnever have occurred, and a deed of daring, unparalleled in war, wouldnever have been recorded in the annals of heroic struggles to whichEngland is ever adding.
Lord Lucan transmitted the order to Lord Cardigan in person. The lattersaluted, and pointed out the desperate nature of the undertaking, butbeing told that there was no choice but to obey, turned and gave thecommand, "The brigade will advance!"
"By George! They are off," cried Phil, who had been watching the LightBrigade intently. "Get ready, Tony. You were right; our chance hascome at last."
Both tightened their girths and prepared to dash out, for the directionthe cavalry were taking would bring them close at hand.
"It's a charge right enough," cried Tony excitedly, "and I'm going to beone of 'em! Come out!" and with a whirr he dragged his sabre out of thesheath.
"Good heavens! look at what is happening!" cried Phil aghast. For theLight Brigade had suddenly swerved away from the Causeway heights. "Ithought they were to attack the Turkish redoubts, but they are headingright up to the centre of the Russian army. It is madness! sheersuicide!"
At this moment they saw a horseman, the unhappy Nolan, galloptransversely across the now fast-galloping Light Brigade. He haddiscovered the terrible mistake, and attempted to set it right, but ashell from the battery in front burst with a roar in front of him, andkilled him instantly.
"Now for it, Tony," shouted Phil, kicking the ribs of his pony. "We'lljoin our friends at all costs, and see more fighting before we die."
"Hurrah! I'm with yer, young 'un! Who-hoop! at 'em for all we'reworth!"
Fortunately both ponies were fast and sturdy animals, and, still movefortunately, Phil and Tony had had good practice on horseback when withthe menagerie. They thrashed the animals with the flat of their sabres,and, dashing down the hill, fell in beside the 4th light Dragoons, who,with the 11th and 8th Hussars, formed the second attacking line, thefirst being composed of the 17th Lancers and the 13th Light Dragoons.
Faster grew the pace, and still faster. Men sat close down on theirsaddles, and jerking their sword lanyards higher up their wrists,clutched the hilts, and stared straight before them with a look ofenthusiasm in their eyes. The blood of the British cavalry was up, foras yet they rode silently, a warning sign to those whom they might comeagainst, for your Englishman does not shriek aloud. He says thingsbeneath his breath till the moment comes, and then what a shout hegives!
And as they charged, from either side and from the front, flame andsmoke belched out, and the valley echoed with the sound of explodingcannon. Shells shrieked overhead, rolled like huge cricket-balls alongthe turf, and burst in the midst of the gallant horsemen, sweepingscores to the ground. And yet they did not flinch. Instead they dugtheir spurs still deeper, till they were actually racing for the Russianenemy.
What a sight! A green-clad valley, cloaked in eddying smoke, which wasrent asunder every second by a blinding flash; and through it, all thatremained of that galloping 600 now clearly visible, and a moment laterplunging deep into the reek and smoke of the cannon.
Suddenly the guns in front ceased to fire. The first line, or ratherwhat was left of it, rode over them and dashed pell-mell into thecavalry behind, breaking them and scattering them like chaff. And nowcame the moment for the second line, and for Phil and his friend. Itwas indeed a race, men and officers doing their utmost to outdistancethe others. Long ago Phil had lost sight of his companion in the smoke,but now a riderless horse, frenzied by fear, came up and thundered alongon either side of him. Suddenly a ringing "Tally-ho!" came from someofficer in front, and with a roar of furious excitement the line rodeover the smoking guns and dashed full into a huge mass of Russiancavalry.
Phil found himself still with the riderless horses alongside, amidst themen of the 11th Hussars. Standing in his stirrups, he leant over andcut savagely at the grey-coats which seemed to rise up on either side ofhim, while a loud hissing sound, produced by the excited Russians,filled the air around. There was a rush and a crash, and the horse onhis right was swept away. He scarcely noticed it, but, seeing a comradeat that moment fall in front of him, he pulled his pony in with a jerk,and made such good play with his weapon that for a moment he kept thelong Cossack lances from the fallen man.
Whack! A tremendous blow on his shoulder sent him flying from hissaddle to the ground, where, looking up, he was just in time to see Tonystanding in his stirrups with sabre raised on high. Down it came on thehead of the man who had just struck him from his pony, and with a groanthe Russian flopped upon his horse's neck.
"Up! Up yer get!" shouted Tony, laying about him with a will. "Fullyourself together, old man."
Phil sprang to his feet, and, holding his sabre in his mouth, lifted theprostrate form of the trooper.
"Hold on here, Tony," he cried. "That's it. Now wait a minute. Thosehorsemen have cleared away."
Rent asunder by the terrible British horse, the Russians had in factopened out and retired, disclosing the bulk of their army forming intosquare close at hand. Phil took advantage of the lull.
A riderless horse stood close at hand, and in a few seconds he was inthe saddle. Then he sheathed his sabre, and, riding up to Tony, said:
"Now, hand him up here. He's stunned by the fall."
"And what about getting back, mate?" asked Tony, still holding the man."It'll spoil yer chance. They are certain to come after us."
"I'll run the risk of that. Now, up with him, Tony," answered Philabruptly.
"Look here, old pal, this is my job," said Tony stubbornly. "I owe yera score, and I'll take this fellow for yer."
It was a generous impulse which prompted the gallant fellow, for tohamper one's retreat with the body of a comrade was practically certainto lead to a fatal result. But Phil ended the matter promptly. Hiseyes gleamed savagely, and though, when a
ll was over, he thanked Tonywith tears in his eyes, yet now that his wishes were opposed, and he hadset his heart on the matter, his temper got the better of him.
"Hand him over," he hissed angrily. "Come, there is no time to waste;the men are falling-in again."
Tony looked as though he could have wept, but he helped to pull thetrooper up, and, having seen him into Phil's arms, fell in behind,determined to bring his friend through or perish in the attempt.
"Rally, men! rally!" the officers were shouting, and at the sound thetroopers came hurrying up. There was a short pause to allow stragglersto regain the ranks, and then, setting their heads down the valley, theremnant of that gallant 600 retreated at full gallop.
Bang! bang! The guns were blazing at them again; from behind and oneither side grape and shell came shrieking at them. Then suddenly camethe gleam of lances in front, and there stood a body of cavalry preparedto hedge them in and make them prisoners. As well set a mouse to catcha lion! These were the men who had ridden into the very "jaws ofdeath", into "the gates of hell"; and was one single regiment of cavalryto bar their retreat when they had fearlessly attacked an immense army?Ridiculous! And bracing themselves once more, the British horsemenswept them on either side as if with a broom, and torn, shattered,bleeding, and exhausted, returned, still exulting, to their friends.
Heroes indeed! Well has it been said of them, "Honour the LightBrigade, noble six hundred!"
A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War Page 15