Brave British soldiers and the Victoria Cross / a general account of the regiments and men of the British Army, and stories of the brave deeds which won the prize "for valour"

by Unknown

but distinguished bravery alone can make a Victoria Cross man. A marquis or a duke may have attained his rank by means that would not bear too close inspection, but the Victoria Cross invites your inspection; its wearer must always be sans peur, if not sans reproche.

Captain Bell, Royal Welsh Fusiliers, capturing a Russian Gun at the Battle of the Alma.

No one will grudge Colonel Bell the distinction which he earned at the Great Redoubt on the heights of the Alma. He was charging at the head of his company at the moment when the Russians were retreating with those guns which had dealt such havoc among our men. All had been drawn away by the artillery horses except a brass 24-pound howitzer, which still remained in position, and gave rise to a singular contest among our soldiery. Each was anxious to claim it as his own, so as to point to it afterwards as a proof of his prowess, and an officer of the 33rd, named Donovan, is said to have been the first who scratched his name upon it. Bell, however, took no part in this contest; his thoughts were elsewhere. Farther on, in the rear of the redoubt, he saw a Russian driver urging on with whip and spur three horses which were dragging a brass 16-pounder gun; in a moment he was alongside the driver, and held a revolver to his head. The latter understood the significance of such an act, and, slipping from his horse, took to his heels. Bell seized the bridle of one of the horses, and, aided by a soldier of the 7th Fusiliers, named Pyle, led them round the shoulder of the parapet to the rear of our line, where he met Sir George Brown, the general in command of the Light Division. Now, it is the duty of a captain to be at the head of his company, and the general is said to have reminded him of this fact in language of considerable emphasis. There was no help for it; Bell had to relinquish his prize, and to return to his company, but the gun was safe; the horses drew it down the hill, where it remained till after the battle. The gun is now to be seen at Woolwich, and the horses were put into our “Black Battery.” At the close of the war, Captain Bell’s heroism was not forgotten; he was decorated with the Victoria Cross, and is now a colonel.

We have already alluded to Lieutenant Anstruther’s heroic death, after he had planted the flag-staff of the Royal Welsh on the summit of the parapet. When he fell, the Queen’s colour was picked up by a private, who gave it to Corporal Luby; it was afterwards carried till the end of the battle by Sergeant Luke O’Connor. The gallant sergeant was shot in the breach, and fell at the same time as young Anstruther; but his wound was not mortal; he soon recovered himself, and refused to go to the rear, though urged to do so by Lieutenant Granville. He received the highest praise from Major-General Codrington on the field, and was rewarded with a commission in his own gallant regiment, in which he now holds the rank of captain. He was also present at the assault on the Redan, on the 8th of September, 1855, where he behaved with great gallantry, and was shot through both thighs. At the close of the war he received the Victoria Cross and the Sardinian war medal. The latter decoration was also bestowed upon Corporal Luby, who was instrumental in saving the Queen’s colour at the battle of the Alma.

The British casualties in this battle were 25 officers killed, and 81 wounded; 337 non-commissioned officers and men were killed, 1550 wounded, and 19 missing. No regiment suffered more than the Royal Welsh Fusiliers. Eight of their officers were killed, and 5 wounded (one of them mortally); 3 sergeants and 40 rank and file were killed, or died of their wounds; 9 sergeants and 143 rank and file were wounded; 2 were missing. The slaughter among the senior officers was so great that the command of the regiment devolved on Captain Bell, who brought it out of action. The regimental colour was carried by Sergeant Honey Smith after Lieutenant Butler fell; it was intrusted to him by Major-General Codrington, as no officer could be spared from his company. In a letter written from the seat of war, Corporal Harwood gave a graphic description of the circumstances under which the Royal Welsh were so fearfully cut up:—“The 23rd was in the Light Division, and on we went, covered by two companies of the Rifle Brigade. We crossed a vineyard, and were led by Colonel Chester through the river, the opposite bank of which was very steep. The colonel went through with us—we all shared alike—and, as we clambered out, the enemy gave us a fierce fire, the cannons belching forth murderous volleys of grape and round shot, and musket-balls fell as thick as hail. The men fell dead and wounded before me and at my side. They fell in every direction, and mechanically I still pressed on, untouched. Up the hill we went with the Rifle Brigade, and half-way up the heights we reached the cannons’ mouths which were planted on the embankments. Our regiment was about to cross the stockade in the enemy’s position, when the word was given, ‘Cease firing, and retire!’ because we were in danger of firing on the French. Our colonel rushed in front of us, shouting, ‘No, no; on, lads!’ He fell with the word on his lips; he never spoke or raised his head again. We did retire then, and an unfortunate mistake it was; for the enemy returned to the guns we had once silenced, and gave us some terrific volleys; but we soon rallied, and, supported by the 7th, 33rd, a portion of the Guards, and the Highlanders, we rushed up the hill again, and the enemy fled in every direction.” This and other letters written by our soldiers during the Crimean War took the nation by surprise; they proved that there were men, unknown to fame, in the ranks of the British Army who could use the pen or the sword with equal skill.

There are certain acts of courage which compel our admiration without obtaining the unqualified approval of our cooler judgment. Colonel Bell’s daring in capturing the Russian gun must be placed in this category. No one will question his courage, or dispute his right to the Cross of Valour; no one will wish his deed undone, or desire that he had acted otherwise. And yet it must be admitted that in leaving his own men he was guilty of a breach of discipline which is more worthy of admiration than imitation. It was his duty to have remained with his company; and if every officer were to yield in battle to the same impulsive bravery, all discipline would be at end and the results would be most disastrous. The first duty of all soldiers is implicit obedience to the commands of superior authority; to this rule there is no exception, save in the case of officers of high rank, who on the field of battle must always be guided partly by circumstances in executing the orders they have received. We are not, therefore, to condemn Sir George Brown for expressing his emphatic disapproval of Captain Bell’s conduct in leaving his company to seize the Russian gun. Sir George, doubtless, admired his courage, but he must have felt that courage ought in every case to be subordinate to discipline. Such was the opinion of Sir Colin Campbell at the storming of the Secunder Bagh at Lucknow. We shall describe in a future chapter the fearful scene of carnage which took place there in consequence of the massacre at Cawnpore. The tumult was at its height when a Highland officer rushed up to the spot where Sir Colin, mounted on his grey horse, stood in the centre of his staff. The Highlander was wild with excitement, and bore on his person traces of the bloody work in which he had taken part. One word of praise from those stern lips was the richest reward his heart could covet. Extending the red banner which he held in his hand towards the general, he joyfully exclaimed, “I have killed the last four of the enemy with my own hand, and here, sir, are their colours.” A Highlander himself, Sir Colin could appreciate the impetuous courage of his countryman, but his duty as a general was imperative; he could not applaud an act which was a violation of discipline. “Confound the colours, sir! where’s your regiment? Go back to your regiment, sir! I thank you for your zeal and gallantry, but go back to your regiment.” The excited and impulsive Highlander obeyed this command, and, doubtless, felt at the moment that the reproof, though grave, was not unmerited. Such also must have been the feelings of Captain Bell when he received the stern command to return to his company and relinquish the Russian gun. If that gun had not remained in our possession after the battle, we doubt whether Colonel Bell’s undisciplined valour would have met with the same recognition from his grateful country. Success may sometimes justify such a step, but we repeat that such deeds of impulsive bravery are more to be admired than imitated. It must be borne in mind, however, that Colonel Bell received the Victoria Cross, not only for capturing the Russian gun at the Alma, but also for bringing the regiment out of action when his superior officers had fallen, and exhibiting the same daring spirit on many subsequent occasions. It is a pleasure to see his manly figure among the other heroes in the Victoria Cross Gallery, and we hope he will long continue to wear the badge of distinction which his sovereign conferred upon him.