by V. A. Stuart
The whole brigade vanished into the smoke of the Russian guns.
The Highland Brigade, last of the division to cross the Alma, did so in perfect order. The point at which they crossed, to the left of the Guards, was one at which a bend in the river took them to the north-east.
Alex, two days later, wrote an account of the action to Emmy.
“I had been despatched to deliver Sir Colin Campbell’s orders for the advance to Colonel Douglas of the 79th and was on my way back to my post when, to my astonishment, I observed our divisional commander, His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, gallop over to Sir Colin. He was in a state of visible distress and agitation and I heard him announce that the Scots Fusilier Guards had met with a terrible reverse and were falling back.
“He said, ‘There must be a disaster, Sir Colin, unless the division is withdrawn . . . a disaster!’
“Sir Colin’s reply was characteristic of him and I heard it with pride. ‘There must be a disaster if they are withdrawn, your Royal Highness. Permit me, if you please, to continue to their support with the Highland Brigade!’
“The duke gave permission with evident reluctance. He said, in a voice so low I could barely make out the words, ‘We shall be tried for this, Sir Colin . . . the Guards will be destroyed.’
“To which Sir Colin answered firmly, ‘Sir, it were better that every man of Her Majesty’s Guards should lie dead on the field of battle than that they should turn their backs upon the enemy’ Then he saluted and placing himself at the head of the 42nd, ordered them forward.
“They are magnificent soldiers, these Highlanders, and they fell in behind him as if they had been on the parade ground. Sir Colin’s orders were to maintain our echelon formation, the same as that in which we had crossed the river, with the 42nd leading, on the right, the 93rd in the centre and the 79th behind and to the left. Our line thus extended for more than a mile and, only two ranks deep, deceived the Russians as to our strength, as well as presenting a much smaller target for their fire.
“On our left, we brushed by the 77th, in line facing east, and the 88th on the right, who were halted in a square, under the command of General Buller, and Sir Colin, angry for the first time I had seen him that day, told them to get into line and follow us. They did not and I heard an Irish voice shout after us, in bitterness,’ Let the Scotchmen go on . . . they’ll do the work!’ It was plain that such doughty fighters felt great distaste for the orders their own commander had given them, but had no choice save to obey them.
“Sir Colin led us in a wide sweep round the back of the Great Redoubt which, through the haze of smoke, we could see the Guards approaching. He gave the order to advance firing, which is something only the most highly disciplined troops can do, and I was filled with admiration for the way in which the Highlanders carried out his orders. They advanced at a rapid pace, alternately firing and cheering, and never halting. The gunners of a sixteen—or eighteen—gun battery to the left of the Great Redoubt, seeing our advance as a threat to their guns, started to withdraw them, without actually coming under our fire.
“Some reserves of Russian infantry, seeking to cover the withdrawal of the guns, massed to attack the 42nd and Sir Colin sent me back to order up the 93rd so as to outflank them. But after I had gone to deliver this order to Colonel Ainslie, Sir Colin was apparently not satisfied with the dressing of the 93rd, for the men were over-eager and pressing forward, and he came cantering back to attend to it himself. The regiment was under heavy fire and his horse was shot in the heart and fell dead, throwing him, I feared, heavily. But I gave him my horse and he remounted and calmly held the 93rd until their dressing was to his approval. Then, warning them against overhastiness, he returned to the 42nd and later sent my horse back to me, having obtained his chestnut from his groom.
“The 93rd, very much steadier after his admonition, took the Russians by surprise, for they made their appearance suddenly, from the concealment of a ridge, and a cavalry attack, launched against them, was met and beaten off by the 79th, employing the same tactic. They poured several volleys into the exposed flank of the Cossacks, who retired in great disorder . . . the value of our brigades echelon formation being again splendidly demonstrated.
“Following up behind the 79th were two excellently commanded batteries of the Horse Artillery, which completed the rout of the Russians by directing a deadly enfilading fire against them. Our men were now ordered to fix bayonets and charge, which they did with great cheering, gaining the summit of Kourgane Hill with the Russians running before them. We entered from the flank of the battery named by our troops the Great Redoubt, the Guards disputing for the honor with us, but Sir Colin called out in a great roar, ‘We’ll hae nane but Hieland bonnets here!’Our men, in an excess of pride and excitement, raised their bonnets on the points of their bayonets and, as long as I live, I shall not forget the cheer they gave him.
“It was taken up by the Guards, who had fought magnificently, and by those gallant survivors of General Codrington’s brigade, passing down right through the 2nd and 3rd Divisions to the 4th in the rear. “We had gained Kourgane Hill, the Russians were in full retreat and, to our right, the French divisions were in possession of their objectives, with their artillery firing down now, from the Heights, upon the defeated enemy. They, closing in to get through the gorge through which runs the post-road to Sebastopol, presented a perfect target.
“As we waited on the summit of Kourgane for the 3rd Division to pass through us in pursuit, Lord Lucan and Lord Cardigan rode up with the cavalry. Both seemed to be in an evil temper and Edward Nolan, who was with them, told me that they had endured a day of extreme frustration, being held on the extreme left flank, with orders to remain there. Their role was, it seems, to guard against attack from that quarter—an attack which never materialized, though no doubt prevented from doing so by their presence.
“Nevertheless all felt conscious of humiliation and were eager to set off in pursuit of the retreating Russians and attempt to capture some guns. But scarcely had they come up with us than an order came from Lord Raglan, forbidding the cavalry to attack. There was much complaint and dissatisfaction when this order was repeated; Lucan despatched an aide to question it, but he had gone only a few yards on his way when a second order arrived. The Light Brigade was to divide, Lucan on the left and Cardigan on the right, and escort the artillery to a forward position. The instruction that the cavalry was, in no circumstances, to attack was once more emphasized.
“They obeyed it, with such reluctance that my heart bled for them, and later I heard from Phillip—who has come through unscathed—that a third order was sent, commanding the return of the brigade the instant it had completed its escort duty. Most of them were well nigh speechless with indignation and it is said that it was as much as a man’s life was worth to approach Lord Lucan after the third order had reached him. I have no doubt that the cavalry’s hour will yet come but I confess, my dearest Emmy, that after this day, I have no regrets for my temporary change of service. It has been a rare privilege to fight with these splendid Highland Regiments and the greatest honour to have served, even for a little while, under Sir Colin Campbell.
“A somewhat touching and most appropriate ceremony marked the end of the day. Lord Raglan sent for Sir Colin and thanked him, with tears in his eyes and his emotion so great that he could hardly speak, for his zeal and bravery. He then asked whether there was anything he could do to gratify him and mark the occasion. Sir Colin’s reply touched us all deeply, and the hearts of his gallant Highlanders deepest of all. ‘My lord, if you seek to gratify me,’ said he, without hesitation,‘then will your lordship grant me permission henceforth to wear a Highland bonnet, in place of my general’s cocked hat!’
“Permission being duly granted, with a smile of pleasure and surprise, by Lord Raglan, Lieutenant Drysdale, working through the night, delivered to him next morning a bonnet, in which the hackles of the three regiments were combined. Sir Colin has worn no other since
its presentation, thus endearing himself more warmly than ever to his men.
“Our casualties, in the brigade, are remarkably light thanks be to God . . . fifteen killed and 83 wounded. I myself sustained a minor bruise or two and a sword cut on my left arm, but I feel little discomfort from either and it does not keep me from work. In all, they say we have lost between three and four hundred killed and some sixteen hundred wounded, but the French losses are held on good authority to be greater and the Russians’ greatest of all, although no one can yet come near to estimating a figure. The surgeons and the burial parties are still at work on the battlefield, and every day a mournful procession of wounded is on its way to the ships, which leave for Scutari as they are filled.
“The rest of us wait in bivouac, wondering when the order will come for us to advance once more on Sebastopol. The French, it appears, are insisting on delay, but the order cannot much longer be delayed, if we are to reap the fruits of our victory. The Russians are routed and demoralized and a combined assault, by land and sea, must surely be successful . . . .”
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS NOT UNTIL the 23rd September that Marshal St Arnaud agreed, at last, to continue the advance on Sebastopol. The marshal, a desperately sick man, had heard that the passage to the next river in their path, the Katcha, was likely to be strongly resisted, and that the one beyond, the Balbec, was defended by formidable earthworks.
But at last, on a fine, sunny morning the two armies re-formed and marched down from the blood-drenched Heights of the Alma into the valley of the Katcha. They met with no opposition, finding in front of them only the litter of abandoned stores and equipment of a fleeing army. The fleet made contact again at the river mouth and Alex joyfully recorded in his letter to Emmy that the 1st Royal Dragoons were landed there from the Pride of the Ocean and the Scots Greys from the Himalaya—first of the Heavy Brigade to rejoin the Cavalry Division. The Balbec proved to be innocent of earthworks and devoid of Russian troops. As the two armies marched up the far side of the valley, they were able to look down on Sebastopol, four miles below.
Alex wrote:“Sebastopol looked very peaceful in the afternoon sunlight. It is a beautiful town, the buildings a dazzling white, surmounted by domes and cupolas of green copper. One could identify many of the buildings . . . the Admiralty, the Naval Barracks and, of course, the Star Fort, which appears to be of immense strength, with gun embrasures facing north and south, as well as out to sea. The harbour cuts the town in two; ships lie at anchor in the roadstead but, according to rumour, block-ships have been sunk at its entrance, so that they cannot leave. On the other hand, our ships will not be able to enter . .. even if not prevented from doing so by the guns of the forts.
“Yet it does not look as if the resistance it could offer would be insuperable and, as we observed the town from above, there were few signs of the garrison or, indeed, of the presence of any troops. Lord Raglan is believed to be in favour of an attack from the north, supported by a naval bombardment from the sea, but the French are opposed to this and General Burgoyne—to whose views his lordship pays much attention—has apparently advised a march inland and around Sebastopol. The attack would then presumably be launched from the south and there is talk of basing the fleets on the harbour at Balaclava.
“But I cannot vouch for the truth of this, as Lord Raglan continues to confer with Marshal St Arnaud and may yet persuade the French to his way of thinking.”
But Lord Raglan’s final interview with Marshal St Arnaud on Sunday, 24 September, resulted in his yielding to the French wish to turn inland at once. St Arnaud sat stiffly in his chair, contributing little to the discussion, and as they left, a British staff officer remarked on how regally he had behaved. “Did you not observe him?” Lord Raglan said sadly. “He is dying.”
Within a few hours, the marshal was reported to have collapsed with an attack of cholera but in spite of this, next morning at 8:30, as had been agreed, the two armies started the march inland. This time, the British led and the French soldiers cheered them as they passed.
The march was to be accomplished as rapidly as possible, for neither commander relished the prospect of being cut off for too long from his fleet. The country over which they must march was dense and virtually trackless woodland and brush, of which few maps were in existence, so that the main body of the British army was ordered to strike south-east on a compass bearing. But they accomplished this successfully, save for an unfortunate incident in which the cavalry, under Lord Lucan, being misdirected by their guide, failed to rendezvous with Lord Raglan and, as a result, the British commander-in-chief was in danger of capture by a Russian force leaving Sebastopol. He was saved, to the cavalry’s humiliation, by a troop of the Horse Artillery, under Captain Maude.
After meeting only token opposition, Balaclava was entered. The French left Lord Raglan the choice of taking Balaclava or the neighboring harbours of Kamiesch or Kazatch as his base, waiving their claim to the right of the line, when the two armies swung round to face Sebastopol. On the advice of Admiral Lyons, he chose Balaclava, which was deep, hemmed in by massive cliffs and possessed of great natural strength. It also possessed, however, two great disadvantages; it was small and landlocked and all supplies had to be carried from the ships in harbour up a narrow, rutted track, to the camps on the plateau above it. Additionally the British right flank was open to attack and had constantly to be guarded.
On 25 September, the dying Marshal St Arnaud relinquished his command of the French army to General Canrobert. Next day he was carried on board the battleship Berthelot, where he died the following afternoon. Lord Raglan resumed his council of war with the marshal’s successor, but found him even more reluctant than St Arnaud had been to agree to an immediate assault on Sebastopol. An assault without siege-guns would, Canrobert stated emphatically, be suicidal and Sir John Burgoyne agreed with the French view—the siege trains must be landed and the heavy guns got into position to bombard the Sebastopol defenses, before an attack could be contemplated. To this, Lord Raglan was reluctantly forced to agree although General Cath-cart, whose 4th Division was on high ground overlooking the very heart of the Russian defenses, protested that he could walk into the town, with scarcely the loss of a man.
The assault was delayed, in deference to the French concept of war and, as the days passed into weeks, the inhabitants of Sebastopol built up their defenses. Men, women and children worked night and day to raise great mounds of earth in front of their city and to man these with guns, building them into an extended system of formidable strength . . . eventually four miles long. When the expected Allied attack failed to materialize, Prince Menschikoff responded to Admiral Korniloff’s urgent demand for reinforcements and, by 9th October, had sent him nearly thirty thousand men.
The British army, to whom—on the hills above Sebastopol—these frenzied defensive preparations were no secret, waited in growing frustration and impatience. It was taking much longer than anyone had anticipated to drag the heavy siege-guns into position and now the guns of Sebastopol were subjecting them to increasingly heavy counter-fire. The crowded harbour at Balaclava, where all supplies, guns, ammunition and reinforcements had to be set ashore, was turning into chaotic shambles, with ships packed so closely together that none could move. The port lay outside the Allied perimeter and was connected with the camps by a narrow gorge, up which everything required for the siege had labouriously to be carried.
Alex wrote briefly to Emmy, a few paragraphs dated 4 October, from bivouac on the heights overlooking Sebastopol:
“We now have tents for the officers, and a few for the men, although we are told that more are on the way from Balaclava. We are just out of range of the guns but there are frequent raids by the Russians on our perimeter; in consequence, we have to furnish pickets for outpost duty and are always under arms. It is becoming increasingly cold, unpleasantly so at night. Cholera is, alas, again on the increase and the men grow weary of this waiting. The siege train has been landed an
d the guns are being got into position but it is slow work, for they must be manhandled up the cliff from the harbour. The navy is landing guns and the sailors work magnificently, fifty men to a gun, dragging their eighteen-pounders up the pass to the plateau lashed to drag ropes.The army is hacking out emplacements and digging trenches on the high points, with infinite labour, for the ground is rocky and difficult to prepare . . . .”
On 6 October he wrote still more briefly:
“General Scarlett and the rest of the Heavy Brigade landed two days ago, and Colonel Beatson with them. They are encamped at the eastern end of what is known to us as the South Valley and today I sought them out and received your most welcome letter from the colonel’s hands. I am glad to learn that Lord Cassell has recovered and I pray that you and he may both soon be with Charlotte in Therapia or, at least, on your way there. Your letter has given me much joy, my dearest Emmy. I am reading it now for the third time and will endeavor to answer it when I have fully taken it in . . . .”
On 8 October, Alex wrote:
“Yesterday morning, Colonel Sterling, the brigade major, went to post an outlying picket at daybreak, and I accompanied him. While there, we saw a considerable body of Russian cavalry in the valley below, which advanced to within two miles of Balaclava, their skirmishers in front. They drove in a small picket of our Dragoons and then we heard the British trumpets sounding ‘to horse’ and Lord Lucan rode out, with the Cavalry Division, and they formed up and advanced.
“Meanwhile the Russians galloped up and down, trailing their coats, as it were, and inviting an engagement. I waited, my heart in my mouth, watching for the charge which both Sterling and I were certain would be ordered. But the order never came . . . the 17th Lancers rode up, escorting some Horse Artillery, which unlimbered and opened fire and the Russians withdrew out of range, jeering at our men.