British Regiments at the Front, The Story of Their Battle Honours

by Reginald Hodder

It must be added to this classic word-picture of the fight on the ridge that Marshal Beresford in his despatch to Lord Wellington, dated Albuera, 18th May, said, "It was observed that our dead, particularly the 57th Regiment (the "Die Hards" of Albuera), were lying as they had fought in the ranks, and that every wound was in front."

BALACLAVA AND INKERMAN

"The Cavalry do as they like to the enemy until they are confronted by thrice their numbers….

"Our Artillery has never been opposed to less than three or four times their numbers."—Sir John French at the Front.

The majority of the Expeditionary Forces now at the front carry in their hearts if not on their standards the glorious legends of Balaclava and of Inkerman. At a time when it has become so evident that the tendency of the Prussian military system is to crush individual initiative, while that of the British system is to encourage it on equal terms with a free and unhesitating obedience to the will of the commander, the battles of Balaclava and Inkerman are of peculiar significance, for, while Balaclava contains a glorious instance of blind obedience, Inkerman stands alone as a sanguinary conflict in which, to quote an eye-witness, "every man was his own general." For this reason it has been called a "soldiers' battle," and as such it forms a useful example, not only of the fine behaviour of our soldiers when thrown on the limit of their own individual resources, but also of the self-reliant valour and do-or-die spirit that has brought them through so many desperately prolonged struggles before and since. The fact that Inkerman was fought and won in a thick fog makes it all the more wonderful and satisfactory that the units, and even individuals, of our army on that occasion co-operated well within the boundaries of a sound and discreet initiative. Many full descriptions have been given of Balaclava and Inkerman. Our space here will not allow of more than a brief account of some of the glorious deeds on those fields of victory.

On October 25th, 1885, the Russians made a bold attempt to take Balaclava, and the tale of their defeat is the immortal tale of two of the finest cavalry charges ever known in the history of war. Immortalised in verse by Tennyson, the "Charge of the Light Brigade" is a deed bringing honour and glory for all time; yet the charge of the Heavy Brigade earlier on the same day was an affair even more deadly to the enemy and more responsible for the final victory.

At the first attack of the Russians the 93rd (Sutherland) Highlanders were called upon to face them and defend the foremost approach. Eight Squadrons of General Scarlett's Heavy Brigade on the left wing were at once ordered to their assistance. Of these the Scots Greys and Inniskillings were diverted to check the advance of a body of Russian cavalry 3,000 strong, which was descending from the hill into the valley. It all happened on the spur of the moment. As soon as Scarlett became aware of the meaning of those 3,000 of the enemy he made up his mind in a flash. It was one of the intuitions that determine the fortune of war. "Left wheel into line!" and the Greys and Inniskillings were ready. They saw the cause and understood the intention. They wheeled into line, and as they formed up with quick, cool decision, the Russians paused, as if to calculate, some 500 paces away. "Charge!" And the Greys and Inniskillings, with Scarlett at their head, thundered forward on the enemy.

It was a gallant and almost desperate undertaking, for the two squadrons were greatly out-numbered by the opposing force; but it was so sudden, unexpected and headlong, that the Russians were thrown into hesitation and scarcely knew on the spur of the moment the best way to meet it. After the terrible clash of meeting they could do no more than try to close in on the English, and in this, by dint of superior numbers, they must in the end have wiped our men out had it not been that in the very thick of it help came from several sides. First, small detachments of other "Heavies" came up rapidly and fell upon the enclosing Russians so fiercely that their plan was weakened. Then a whole squadron of Inniskillings from our right swept down on the enemy's left and completely frustrated its encircling movement. Finally, from different quarters, the 4th and 5th Dragoon Guards and the Royals came up like a whirlwind, and the result of it all was a fight of the wildest and most terrible kind. In the thick of it were Scarlett and his two squadrons, and the enemy were cut up and swept away like chaff before the terrible onslaught within and without, until at last they broke and fled in utter confusion back over the crest of the hill. So, in glorious victory, ended the Charge of the Heavy Brigade, a splendid feat of generalship and valour which, though unsung by Laureates, nevertheless throws a tremendous weight of tradition into the spirit of the "Heavies" who, with three of their regiments—the Scots Greys, and the 4th and 5th Dragoon Guards, are to-day repeating such deeds at the front without being aware that they are doing anything extraordinary.

The Charge of the Light Brigade is a matter that all the world knows while all the world wonders—in one sense, that it was ever undertaken, and, in another, that mortal flesh and blood could dare so desperate and unwarlike a deed at the behest of discipline and still succeed in turning it to glorious account. What happened is household reading, but who could be restrained from relating it, and who can refrain from reading it yet once more?

The Light Brigade, with the 13th Light Dragoons and the 17th Lancers in the first line, the 11th Hussars in the second, and the 4th Light Dragoons and the 8th Hussars in the third, was drawn up two deep as soon as the ambiguous order arrived. The Heavy Brigade was in readiness to support, with Lord Lucan commanding in person the Greys and Royals. A brief question as to the meaning of the order and a quick reply that it was no time to question, but merely to obey, and then the trumpet rang out for the charge. It had no uncertain sound and every man prepared to do and die as they went down the hill with Lord Cardigan at their head at a speed approaching twenty miles an hour. Sheets of flame, and a hail of lead, leapt out upon their flanks from the Russian infantry. Captain Nolan darted out across their front, shouting and waving his sword in the futile effort to explain that it was all a mistake. But their minds were made up and they did not heed or could not understand his gestures, at so swift a pace; and then, swifter still, a fragment of shell tore its way through Nolan's heart and his horse wheeled and bore him, dead, but still upright, through the advancing ranks before he fell.