After our arrival at Varna we had to wait a few days for the order of embarkation, and finally sailed in company with the 17th Lancers in the Himalaya, Lord Cardigan and his staff being aboard the same vessel; the 11th Hussars, 4th and 13th Light Dragoons being embarked aboard other transports, as also the heavy cavalry at the same time. Never was an army embarked for almost immediate active service under less favourable circumstances. Our ranks were decimated by disease, and the authorities apparently regardless of our health, food, clothing, and comfort, so necessary to render an army contented and vigorous in the face of the enemy. Still our men kept up their spirits, and only one desire pervaded the whole of the cavalry with whom I came in contact, and this was to “meet the Roosians and have done with it.” Not a man knew where it was intended to land the army, but it was generally understood that fighting would begin in earnest directly we came in sight of the enemy on the shores of the Crimea. I noticed the gallant 42nd Highlanders aboard the Emeu, and the Scots Fusiliers aboard the Kangaroo, and no men could be in better spirits.

The 4th Light Dragoons embarked in the Simla, and the 4th Royal Irish Dragoon Guards, with the remnant of the 5th, were conveyed to the scene of action in the Trent. The men were all in capital spirits, and their after-service proved that they meant business, as also did the 13th Light Dragoons (who sailed in the Jason, if I remember right); and the 17th Lancers, with the old 8th King’s Royal Irish and 11th Hussars, proved what British cavalry can do, even under the most distressing circumstances, as shown by their wild death-ride through the vale of Balaklava, where the imbecility of their leaders nearly caused what few of them that the cholera had left, to be annihilated by charging unsupported an army in position. The transports and other vessels necessary to remove the Allied array numbered over 700, which, with the fleet, formed a magnificent sight when fairly out of the bay of Varna. Captain Longmore of ours, who accompanied Lord Cardigan in his reconnoitring expedition along the Danube, died of cholera aboard the Himalaya before we sailed, and his body was taken ashore and buried. Not a better officer ever commanded a troop; he was a strict disciplinarian, but not a petty tyrant, and there was not a man in the regiment but who mourned his loss as children would a father. Several more officers and men died before sailing and on the passage, and their bodies were thrown overboard. I saw about fifty Zouaves drowned between the transport on board which they were to embark and the shore: they were all in complete marching order, and thus were prevented from swimming. The boat came in contact with a foreign vessel containing stores, and the former was sunk in less than a minute, the Zouaves disappearing with the most frightful yells; and they never rose again, a few – very few – only being saved.

Lord Raglan, the Commander-in-Chief, and staff embarked on board the Caradoc; and some idea may be formed of the expedition when I say that it would have formed a line upwards of ten miles in length. We sailed in the direction of Eupatoria, and when some distance from the place, but within range of the guns of the fleet, the Caradoc sailed towards the town with the white flag of truce, and it was generally understood we were to land there at once. But for some reason the idea was abandoned, and orders were given to sail farther down shore, for about ten miles, until we came to a low sandy beach on the 14th of September. All eyes were now directed to the beach – the first glimpse we had ever had of the Russian soil – and we fully expected to see it bristling with cannon; but all was peaceful and silent; not an armed man was visible as our officers eagerly scanned the shore with the aid of their glasses. Plenty of corn and cattle, and the Tartar farmers were all busy with their harvest. After some hours’ delay, caused by having to wait until the whole of the transports – some of whom were slower sailers than others – had come up, the expedition came to anchor from two to three miles from the beach. The French, who anchored some vessels on our right, were the first to lower a boat, with about a score of men in it; they quickly ran on shore, and jumped out, some of them up to the middle in water. A flag-staff was handed out, carried quickly ashore, and in a few seconds they had planted it on Russian territory, with the tricolour streaming from its summit. Shakos were thrown up, and Vive l’Empereur! made the welkin ring. All this time the French were busily engaged lowering boats and running their men ashore. The French numbered about 25,000, and the English of all arms about 27,000. The French landed very quickly, and the moment they reached the shore they ran about like antelopes until they were assembled and formed into skirmishing parties, for fear of the enemy being in ambush; but none appeared, save a small knot of Cossacks on a high, rocky hill about a mile off. These Cossacks formed the escort of an officer who had evidently been sent from Sebastopol to ascertain the strength of our force, which they did not think it prudent to oppose on landing. A shell or round shot from the fleet, or a rifle ball or two from the deck of a man-of-war, would have scattered the party; but our officers, ever busy with their glasses, were anxious to gratify their curiosity. Sir George Brown and General Airey were amongst the first of our officers to land, and with a picket of riflemen some distance in their rear, they pushed on to reconnoitre for camping-ground. The generals were on foot, and never dreamt of the enemy being so near as they ascended the hill, behind whose crest the Cossacks were lying in ambush, having seen them some distance from and isolated from their escort of riflemen. The whole affair was seen from the decks of many of the vessels, that of the Himalaya being crowded with officers and men of the 8th Hussars and 17th Lancers. The officer in command of the Cossacks dismounted, and his men followed his example. Walking and crouching behind their horses, they approached the two generals, who, the instant they saw the danger, turned and ran down the hill, the Cossacks throwing themselves into their saddles, and flourishing their long lances, preparing to pursue. Their career was, however, cut short, as the riflemen suddenly rose up and fired upon them; but the distance was too far, or the aim too bad to be effective, for no saddles were emptied, and the party rapidly disappeared behind the hill amidst a cloud of dust. We afterwards heard that one of the peasants had been wounded by the fire of the rifles while at work with his team on an adjacent farm.

As each of our divisions of infantry landed they marched away from the beach, some in one direction and some in another, until the shore, as far as the eye could reach, was literally covered with armed men, whose bayonets flashing in the sun had a very pretty effect, as seen from the decks of the transports by the force still waiting their turn to land. At about noon the rain began to fall, and the wind getting up, the whole aspect of things underwent a change for the worse. The rain continued to fall steadily, and, to make matters worse, the men had no tents. Each was landed with his great coat and rations for three days, with a drop of rum to keep him warm. In this state the majority of our infantry had to pass their first night on hostile ground; but the cavalry still remained on board their respective transports. While the disembarkation still went on, some of our men-of-war boats were sent along the shore to reconnoitre, and found a Russian encampment, containing, it was said, about 5000 men; this they shelled, and soon destroyed. The rain continued to fall, but notwithstanding this, no orders were given to land the tents, only one for General Evans being sent on shore.

Sir George Brown and staff were fortunate to procure a native cart, beneath which they slept, and no doubt soundly. Notwithstanding this night’s misery, every man being wet through and without a change of dry linen, or a bit of dry wood to make fires, the soldiers were in good spirits, the sea voyage of about fourteen days having freshened them up wonderfully; and they had the ever-cheering prospect before them – although the consummation of their wishes was destined to be long deferred – of eventually being inside the walls of Sebastopol, with the whole of the Russian stores and baggage at their chief disposal. Indeed, the fact that our commanders considered that we should be in the Russian stronghold in the course of a few days, was the reason why the tents were not landed simultaneously with our forces.

The morning after our arrival orders were given for the cavalry to land. We had been lurching and tumbling in the waves all night, getting but little sleep, and our horses having been in slings the whole voyage, sadly needed exercise; and although the wind almost blew a whole gale, the order was welcome. Our vessel, the magnificent Himalaya, was the first to commence operations. We had nearly 400 horses and about 700 men aboard. The rest of the vessels stood in as near shore as possible, and commenced to land. One of Lord Raglan’s horses was the first to tumble off a horse-float into the water, and was drowned; several more followed suit, chiefly officers’ horses, through being, perhaps, better fed and higher bred than common troopers. A dozen horses were lowered in slings from the decks of the vessels on to these floats, with a soldier to each horse’s head when he got aboard. The floats were coupled to each other to the number of eight or ten, and then they were tugged as near shore as possible by steam-tugs that had accompanied the transports in readiness for any such service. In this manner most of the cavalry were landed, being rowed the remainder of the way until the floats bumped on the beach, when the horses were led or pushed along planks resting on the bow of the float, and walked into the water; through which, with sundry wild plunges and snorting, they romped on to the shingle, shook their sides, gave a shrill neigh to their companions, and trotted after them farther away on shore, both horse and trooper drenched in sea-water. After the cavalry had been disembarked, the tents – so much required the night before – were got on shore, and the men, infantry and cavalry, lay in comparative comfort the second night after our landing in the Crimea.

Chapter Twenty Nine

How stands the glass around?
For shame! ye take no care, my boys;
How stands the glass around?
Let the mirth and wine abound.
The trumpets sound,
The colours flying are, my boys,
To fight, kill, or wound;
May we still be found
Content with our hard fare, my boys,
On the cold ground.

We were now fairly on the enemy’s ground, had bearded him in his den, and though our men had been subjected to a long period of suffering, consequent on the cholera ravaging our ranks at Varna and Devna (the one idea prevalent in every man’s breast being that he himself might be the next victim), we were still a very imposing force. When our videttes brought in the news that they had been menaced and yelled at in unmistakable sneers by the Cossacks, who were plainly seen in almost every direction galloping their shaggy little horses, and waving their long lances for us to come on and meet them, we were anxious to be among them. Like our own advanced posts, however, their field columns were plainly within a short distance, and any demonstration on the part of our pickets would only have sent them back direct to their lines, while our skirmishers, with their limited knowledge of the ground, might have been surrounded, and either cut down to a man, or taken prisoners. At this time we were said to be within twenty miles of Sebastopol, and the number of effective Englishmen, besides French and Turkish infantry, was about 27,000, who, I may truly say, were most eager to meet the enemy in battle; and no order during the whole campaign was more cheerfully obeyed than that issued by Lord Raglan on the night of the 18th of September, to “strike tents and march at break of the following day.” That march will long be remembered by all who were engaged in it. Every brigade, every division, every regiment, troop, battery, company, and every man with his arms and other accoutrements, was examined by colonels, adjutants, and their deputies, with a minuteness that told us plainly it would not be long before our services were called into active requisition. It was not until eight o’clock that the trumpeters of our brigade sounded the advance, and when our horses capered away from the camping-ground, to the merry strains of the various bands, no hearts were lighter than the five hundred cavaliers who formed the advanced guard of the army which has ever gone forth from British shores “to conquer or to die.” It was a lovely day, and the heat of the sun was tempered by the gentle sea-breeze, as we marched with our right flank resting on the beach under cover of the fleet.

I was one of the advanced guard formed of men selected from the 8th Hussars, 4th Light Dragoons, 17th Lancers, 13th Light Dragoons, and 11th Hussars, and we were, of course, the first to come within sight of the enemy, who, in place of advancing to meet us, set fire to houses, corn-stacks, and every vestige of harvest produce on the land for miles around. We could see numerous Cossacks driving away the stunted cattle and sheep to their lines, ostensibly to prevent them falling into our hands, but in reality to rob the farmers of their property, which would have been unmolested by us, though, probably, the French would have appropriated it. After marching about two hours we drew nearer to the outlying pickets of the Russian army, who had fallen back upon each other, and so near to their reserves, that the latter could be plainly seen, as stated by Lord Cardigan, who, with a field-glass, rode at the head of our column, and ordered out a skirmishing party. These skirmishers spreading out on each flank of the advancing army like a fan, rode forth to meet the Cossacks, who capered and wheeled about, flourished their lances, and performed many grotesque movements quite new to us. But they finally settled down, and forming up in a very business-like manner, advanced as if determined to meet our skirmishers. Ere we had gone far, however, the “halt” was sounded, it was said by order of the Earl of Lucan, who with several more staff officers had ridden to the front. Emboldened by our halt, the Cossacks commenced to yell, flourish their lances, and some few shots were tired at us, which, however, fell out of range, and it was with a feeling of disappointment that we were forced to obey the trumpeter’s call of “skirmishers in,” retiring upon the main body which had been pushed forward in anticipation of a general action. During these few minutes, the enemy had brought up a few field-guns, and our men were exasperated beyond measure at the apathy of Lord Lucan, for allowing us to be fired into with artillery, and followed by a horde of yelling Cossacks into the shelter of our lines, like a pack of whipped hounds to their kennels.

It will ever redound to the credit of Lord Cardigan, that in this, his first meeting of the enemy in force, he was most anxious to lead the Light Cavalry to battle, even before our reserves had come in sight; but Lord Lucan, by a rapid communication with Lord Raglan, decided that, not knowing the strength or position of the enemy, it was better to wait until the main body came up, and bivouacked, ere we made an attack. Several of our men were badly wounded, and five or six horses were killed by the Russian gunners, who had got our range and made beautiful practice. At last, however, a battery of six and nine-pounders came up at a gallop, and instantly opened fire. “Whiz,” “ugh,” “rippety tip,” went the balls, some ricocheting and sending up clouds of dust as they danced over the intervening space. The Cossacks ceased yelling when many of them were knocked over, horses and all, like nine-pins, and the remainder scampered off to their lines like frightened sheep. Meanwhile the main body of our army were fast coming up, and forming in order of battle to repel a general attack, should one be made. A shell, however, which was so directed as to burst in the centre of an advanced column of the enemy’s infantry, settled their business, for limbering up their guns in great haste they quickly retired, and one of our sergeants (O’Brien Kennedy, a Tipperary man) remarked, that although they appeared to “care but little for cannon-balls, they did not relish bullocks’ hearts stuffed with thunder and lightning.”

Only one feeling pervaded our brigade that night, which was regret at not being allowed to meet the Russian cavalry hand to hand, and stirrup to stirrup. This little skirmish was always designated amongst us as “that affair of the Bouljanak;” but as we dismounted and patted our horses’ necks, we rejoiced that we were fairly up with the enemy. Without laying ourselves open to the charge of vain boasting, there was not a man of us who collected round our bivouac fires that night, who did not resolve that those “yelling Cossacks” should be “skivered” when we were permitted to meet them sword to sword and man to man. It afterwards transpired, from the statements of prisoners and spies, that no less than five regiments of cavalry were in reserve behind the “yelling Cossacks;” therefore it was, perhaps, as well that the recall was sounded, or the story of the “Young Dragoon” might not have been written.

Soundly our grand army slept that night on the cold ground, and thousands awakened only to march forth to certain death up the heights of the Alma. Passing over the events that occurred on the morning of the day on which the battle of Alma was fought, which was spent by our generals in arranging the army in the order of battle to meet the enemy, and beard him in his own earthworks, I now bring my readers to the banks of the river Alma, called a river, but in reality only a brook, which most of our horses could have cleared at a jump, even in its widest part. Our brigade was held in reserve, as, if the infantry should suffer a reverse and be obliged to retire from the hill over the brook on to the plain, we were ready to play our part on that ground. Onwards the army advanced in a vast extended line, so as to prevent the enemy from descending the heights in front and outflanking us. The French were disposed so as to march on our extreme right, in order to attack the enemy’s left, who occupied a position which, from its steepness, was difficult to approach; but to our army was assigned the hardest fighting – namely, the forcing of the enemy’s centre and right. The whole face of the hill as far as the eye could reach was swarming with squares of infantry intermixed with earthworks thrown up on the slopes, over which peeped the muzzles of muskets ready to deal death and destruction to our dauntless infantry.

As we neared the banks of the stream, towards the right of the Russian position, we noticed myriads of Cossacks, supported by a large force of dragoons wearing helmets, who, when they observed us, descended the hills and boldly crossed the stream. This time we quite expected to meet them, but we were again disappointed, as a battery of our artillery was at once pushed forward and placed between us and glory.

A clump of houses and haystacks had been set on fire some distance to our left, the smoke of which was intended to hide the enemy’s cavalry from the view of our generals, and so enable them to charge upon the left flank and rear of our infantry, just at the moment the latter forded the river. But the artillery, before mentioned, with our brigade ready to dash among them, effectually kept them at bay. During this time the enemy had opened fire on our right, and very soon it extended over the whole length of our line. The infantry were ordered to lie down, and while our artillery replied well to the enemy’s fire, we sat on our horses passive observers of all that occurred. An occasional shot dropped in the midst of us, and many rolled harmlessly among our horses’ legs. Not a hundred yards from where we formed up was Lord Raglan and staff: the commander-in-chief was evidently getting very anxious, as he continually interrogated an aide-de-camp as to something that was passing on the extreme left of the enemy’s position.

At length Captain Nolan came up at a tearing gallop. “They are over, my Lord!” said he: then followed a hurried, conversation among the staff, and after a short interval the welcome order was given to the infantry to rise and advance.

By this time it was ascertained that not only were the French over the river, as Captain Nolan had stated, but they were hard at it, climbing the heights and engaged hand to hand with the enemy. Not a moment was to be lost; a splash, a scramble along the whole line, and in a few brief moments British bayonets were introduced to the ribs of Russian soldiers. The Highland brigade being nearest to us, we were enabled to watch their every movement, as well as the excitement consequent upon our position would allow, for we were constantly threatened by the demonstrations of the cavalry on our left. We saw the kilted heroes march at quick time up that deadly incline as steadily as if on parade, and the infantry on their right (as far as we could see for the smoke) followed their example. It appears, however, from the reports of those actually engaged, that the Light Division, being too impetuous, got into some disorder, owing to their being in advance of the main body, and they consequently suffered heavily.

Sir George Brown, who commanded this division, rode in the front of them on a grey horse, and led them on at too fast a pace, for which he nearly paid the penalty with his life, for his horse was shot under him, and a terrible fire being concentrated upon this part of our line, the gallant Light Division was awfully cut up. Onward, however, swept the main bulk of that army, the majority of whom were composed of men who had never been in action before. We could distinctly see at intervals, through the dense columns of smoke, as the fire gradually receded from the base up the slopes and finally died out at the crest of the hill, the belching forth of the musketry from the earthworks as our men neared one ridge after the other. A puff of smoke, a long stream of fire, and down came our men in heaps, but plenty remained to avenge their death. A wild “hurrah,” and over the crest of the earthworks they leaped with their bayonets at the charge, followed by a deadly hand-to-hand struggle within the earthworks.

This order of advance, and successive storming of what may almost be termed batteries in position, was unparalleled in the history of war, but it was successful in every instance; for the enemy were either driven from every earthwork, or bayoneted on the spot: yard by yard, inch by inch, they retired up the hill, and were finally driven beyond their last rallying point, a confused, defeated, and humiliated army, flying with their chief, Prince Menschikoff, in the direction of their stronghold, Sebastopol.

In this action the enemy left all their cannon, and upwards of 6000 men dead, wounded, and prisoners, in our hands. Our loss in killed and wounded was estimated at little less than 4000 men. Our own dead, as also the Russians, were buried, and all our wounded were sent on board the fleet, but hundreds of wounded Russians were left in the places where they lay.

Much has been written as to the policy pursued by Lord Raglan, of not following up the retreating enemy and completing their destruction ere they reached Sebastopol. With this I have nothing to do, but I may remark that it would have been worse policy to have left our dead on the field to fester in the burning sun, and so spread disease and death, more terrible than dying in action, throughout the whole army. The wounded would also have been left without succour, for it must be remembered that no assistance was sent from the fleet: the survivors had to bury their dead comrades, and carry the wounded to the ships. A weary, harassing night was that after the battle, in which I had myself happily to take no part, being engaged on picket duty; but I could plainly hear the shrieks and groans of the wounded as the surgeons amputated the poor fellows’ legs or arms, and dressed the less serious wounds.

The action was fought on the 21st September, but not until the morning of the 23rd did we leave the vicinity of the battle-field. The fleet had orders to sail about the same time in the direction of Balaclava. On our line of march we found that our old foes, the Cossacks, had ruthlessly plundered several houses that had evidently been inhabited by well-to-do natives, and we found numerous smaller houses along the banks of the Katcha river, from which the inhabitants had fled, leaving them to be plundered by the bloodthirsty ruffians. Here and there, however, we met with a Tartar farmer, who, more bold than the rest, came forth from their hiding-places to stare at us from motives of sheer curiosity. On arriving at a village called Eskel, we were allowed to dismount, and here we found plenty of newly-gathered corn for our horses, who much enjoyed eating it from the straw, and we equally enjoyed the rich clusters of grapes, which hung invitingly from the vines which surrounded nearly every dwelling. We learned from the few natives who were visible, that the defeated army had reached the village on the evening of the battle in a sadly deteriorated condition, and after only an hour’s rest an alarm was spread that our army was pursuing them, and they continued their retreat in great disorder.

Pursuing our march through a thickly-wooded country, we could distinctly see the forts of Sebastopol but we kept well away from the range of their guns, and made all haste, by a flank movement, not the least expected by the enemy, to reach Balaclava, in order to form a base of operations and establish a communication with the fleet. During this march, parties of our corps and the 11th Hussars formed the advance guard, keeping in sight of Lord Raglan and his staff, and we suddenly came upon the enemy’s baggage guard, which we quickly dispersed, and an enormous quantity of baggage, principally clothing, was instantly surrounded. The carriage of Prince Menschikoff also fell into our hands, but I did not see it, being otherwise engaged: my share of the plunder was a capital cloak of fine blue cloth, lined throughout with fur, which I took from a box, the lid of which had been smashed open by a private of the 88th regiment, with a blow from the butt end of his rifle. I also managed to secure a couple of flannel shirts, but having pursued the enemy two or three miles on the road, we returned too late to share in the most valuable spoil that fell into the hands of our comrades.

Halting next at the village of Tractir, or Traktir, near which is a place called Mackenzie’s farm, which only consists of plantations of fir, and stores of wood grown for the use of the enemy’s navy. This the French set fire to, and we left it blazing merrily, to resume our march on Balaclava, where a portion of the fleet arrived before us, and the guns of the Agamemnon, commanded by Sir E. Lyons, were at once called into requisition (in conjunction with our infantry), to reduce a fort from whence several rounds of shot were fired on our approach, but the commandant of the place soon surrendered, and we entered the town, or rather village, without further opposition. Having taken prisoner an Englishman named Upton, a relative of the engineer whom the enemy had employed during the erection of the forts at Sebastopol, we found the object of his capture was to obtain information from him as to the strength of the army, the forts, and the positions of the field columns; but he refused to give any information, and, I believe, was set at liberty. From this time the infantry, artillery, sappers, and commissariat were as busy as bees, preparing to invest Sebastopol, landing siege-trains, stores, etc, and the enemy continually kept up a dropping fire upon everything that came within range of their forts. The cavalry from this to the battle of Balaclava was principally employed on picket duty, reconnoitring and foraging, with an occasional skirmish with the Cossacks; but the infantry had a hard time of it in the trenches, and, what was worse than all, the cholera was still busy in our midst; indeed, up to this time we had lost more men by disease than in battle. Worked as hard as labourers on a railway, under fire all the time, fed on scanty and inferior rations, with little or no fuel with which to cook them, any infantry except the British would have revolted en masse, and left their rulers to fight their own battles. We had, before our arrival at Balaclava, been reinforced by the Scots Greys, who had been landed from the Himalaya at the Katcha river, and here also the French were joined by large reinforcements, said to be upwards of ten thousand men. In coming from Varna to Balaclava, the 1st Royal Dragoons and the Enniskillen Dragoons had upwards of 200 horses washed overboard in a heavy gale of wind, and the men were landed in a very disheartened state. There is nothing so miserable for a trooper on a campaign as to be without his horse: it is part and parcel of himself, as, besides furnishing him with an easy means of transport from place to place, it is essential to his personal safety.