Discharge & pension
Discharged from Aldershot on the 4th of June 1867, "At his own request, and to pension after 21 years' service."
Served 21 years 24 days.
In Turkey and the Crimea: 2 years.
In India: 9 years 210 days.
Conduct and character: "good". He was in possession of three Good Conduct badges when promoted to Sergeant.
Twenty-seven times entered in the Regimental Defaulters' book. Never tried by Court-martial.
Awarded a pension of 1/- per day.
To live in London after discharge, but at some time in the 1890's he was living in Blackhorse Yard, Preston.
Pension increased to 15d per day from the 18th of May 1886 after six years' service as Quarter-Master Sergeant (Staff Sergeant) on the Pension Staff.
A further increase of pension was refused on the 28th of December 1900, but he was told he could apply to the Royal Patriotic Fund.
His pension was suspended for one month from the 3rd of July 1902 for "pledging a Life Insurance Policy Certificate."
He also received a total of £1/17/0 from the Roberts Fund.
Further information
In his memoir, "A Descriptive Account of the Famous Charge of the Light Brigade" (published c.1890), William Butler states that he and 1113 Thomas Clark saved 931 Timothy Callaghan's life during a violent storm in the Crimea during the winter of 1855/56. (See copy in the "Memoirs" file.)
(See copy of a newspaper article [unknown source], in the 17th Lancer file, which describes how he was reduced to begging.)
Extract from an article which appeared in a Blackpool newspaper in 1980:
"One of Blackpool's 'characters' at the end of the 19th century was ex-Sergeant William Butler, formerly of the 17th Lancers, In the summer he was a familiar sight on the streets and sands, where he sold penny copies of his biography to holiday-makers. They read his pamphlet with fascinated interest, for he was one of the survivors of the biggest blunders in British military history. One day in February of 1901 he was walking along a street in Preston when he trod on a piece of orange peel, slipped, and fell. He was admitted to the local hospital, where he died on the 13th.
His body was brought to Blackpool for burial at Leyton. The coffin, draped with the Union Jack, was borne on a gun-carriage from the Sacred Heart Roman Catholic Church, three bands marching in the procession, one from the Preston Brigade, one from the local Volunteers and the Blackpool Lifeboat Band. Later, it was announced that money left over from a fund-raising appeal would, after paying for the funeral, be used to help Butler's 62-year-old widow, who suffers from dropsy, and was in great distress."
This pamphlet (published about 1890) was entitled "A Descriptive Account of the Famous Charge of the Light Brigade", and in which he described his experiences during his service life and claimed to be one of three Lancers who represented the regiment at an inspection by Queen Victoria at Portsmouth of troops returned from the Crimea." (There is a copy in the 17th Lancer files.)
Extract from an unknown newspaper:
"Writing from Cambridge, M.H.L. sends a letter which he heads -
"A Disgrace to Old England", but which I fear is typical of the eventual fate which overtakes many of those who in former times have risked their lives in the defence of their Queen and Country and I have heard of other cases equally as sad...
Amongst the motley crew of vendors, quack-doctors, etc., who congregate on Blackpool's sands during the season, this year may have been seen one of the Crimean veterans, by name, William Butler. This man, who was a sergeant in the 17th Lancers, was engaged at the battles of the Bulganak, Alma, Mackenzie's Farm, the taking of Balaclava Fort and the Harbour, the Balaclava Charge, Tchernya River and Sebastopol during the years 1854-55. Among his awards are the Crimean medal, Turkish medal and the French War Medal with Diploma. Yet, after serving his Queen and country so well, this poor old man receives a paltry pension of 9/0d per week, and consequently is compelled to eke out a living by appealing to the charity of visitors to Blackpool. Truly a sad end for one of the 'Noble Six Hundred'"
In an Account and Address Book formerly used by James W. Wightman when Secretary of the Balaclava Society, his address was given as "Bootmaker, 80 East Street, Manchester Street, London."
In a "Scrapbook" also formerly belonging to James Wightman was found an copy of an undated and unknown newspaper report, but thought to be around 1885:
The Gallant '600'. A Preston Hero.
I was looking about Black Horse Yard, a narrow lane leading out of Friar Gate, for the residence of William Butler, one of the few survivors of the Balaclava Charge, when I noticed a grey-bearded man, whose figure has not yet lost its upright carriage, standing in a doorway, looking out on the dismal little court, and I knew at once that I had found the house and the man I sought. 'Mr. Butler?' I enquired. 'Yes, Sir,' said the veteran, 'What can I do for you?', 'Well', I said, 'You've returned safely from your Balaclava re-union in London, and perhaps you can tell me something about it.' 'Come in, sir,' said he, 'But I am afraid there is not much to tell that's pleasant.'
Leading the way into a trim little kitchen, the veteran introduced me to his better-half, and found me a seat next to his own rocking-chair by the fireside. And then he told me, bit by bit, his eventful history which, in the hope that it may not prove altogether un-interesting to 'Herald' readers, I have patched together, and now reproduce.
'I was born at Ormskirk', says the hero of Balaclava, 'and very soon afterwards my parents came to Preston — somewhere down by the Marsh we lived. I was put to learn the boot and shoe making, and served my time with Mr. John Chandler, who is yet alive. But I got tired of the shoe making and when I was one and twenty I joined the 17th Lancers — the 'Death or Glory' boys, as they are called — who were then at Nottingham. It was the 24th April 1846, when I enlisted, and served with my regiment twelve years abroad. I was in nearly every engagement in the Crimea, and went through the Indian Mutiny too.
But I suppose it's about our famous charge that you want to know. Well, (pointing to a picture) there's Cardigan leading us, and I was just there, nearly in the front rank. I had my horse killed under me in that charge, and I got a cut across the face with a sword which sent me down, and where I remained insensible, with my horse lying dead across me. But I was worth a good many dead men, and not long after that memorable 25th October 1854 I was in the saddle again.
After the Crimea we went to Ireland for a few months, and then straight away to the Indian Mutiny. The 17th were engaged there several times, but I got off pretty well, and suffered most from fatigue, but I had a narrow escape once when my horse foundered in a rice bed. I was left behind, and very soon our own guns were playing on me. I quitted the service in the 4th of June 1867, and was then a sergeant in the D Troop of the 17th, but from the 1st October 1879 to the 20th April 1886 I was first quarter-master sergeant and then staff-sergeant of pensioners in the North London District, and left because I had obtained the age of sixty years.
I've got a medal for Long Service and Good Conduct: one for the Crimea, with clasps for Alma, Balaclava, Inkerman and Sebastopol, the Indian Mutiny medal with clasp for Central India: and you can see from my discharge that I left with a good character. I'm sixty-four now, and have about forty years service.
Well, as I said, there's not much pleasant to tell about the Balaclava anniversary in London the other day. I sent my name in to the Mayor, and when the invitation came my wife found me enough money to make the journey.
I left Preston by the nine-o'clock train, and landed at Euston about two o'clock. I went from there down to St. James's Hall, and about thirty men of the different regiments who were in the Charge dined there together. We were treated very kindly in one way, I suppose, though there was nothing but the dinner, and that we were allowed to pay for ourselves! Five shillings apiece. ('Heavens!' murmured the listener, 'a Balaclava "charge", indeed.') There were several toasts to Royalty and a few good songs sung. We had five hours at St. James's Hall, and left there about ten o'clock. That was on Saturday, and next day I went down to Greenwich to see a few friends I had known there in 1851 — the Great Exhibition year.
On Monday we were received by a splendid audience at the Olympia Theatre and after that I went to a friend of mine at Praed Street, where we had a talk about old times, and I stayed the night with him. But of course, I hadn't much money, and I spoke to some of the committee about the subscription I heard they were getting up, but the secretary told me that some would be sent to me. No, he did not mention the sum, and I have had nothing yet. So I had to get back the best way I could. In fact, I had to take my medals from my chest and pledge them.
You see, I thought it would be the same as last year, when we went to Manchester. Then we had our fares paid both ways and were handsomely received at the Free Trades Hall, and entertained during the day, but in the London journey I had to keep giving instead of receiving. However, with the money I received on my medals, I paid my fare back, for I meant to be independent as long as I could, and when the secretary of the committee had denied me once, I was not going begging again.
I left Euston on Tuesday night, and arrived back at Preston at three on Wednesday morning. How I got home I don't know. I've not been outside the house since, for I was more disappointed and put out by my treatment than I can tell and felt very upset. I am an old man, you see, and can't work at my trade very much, but I want to do a little if I can, to get my medals back, for I don't want them to stay where they are.
Then ex-sergeant Butler showed me, with pardonable pride, his 'papers', and a relic or two from the wars. His better half expressed herself much more strongly about the way in which the survivors of the six hundred had been treated after being induced to journey to London. Shaking hands with the gallant ex-sergeant, I bade him good-bye, and hoped sincerely that the unpleasant experiences associated with his recent commemoration of the glorious charge at Balaclava would soon be effaced by kinder and more generous recognition of that memorable event."
Following a letter to the Regimental HQ, Mr Robert Peel of Blackpool organised the renovation of his gravestone, the regiment paying most of the cost. (At the same time a similar thing was set in motion for the gravestone of Edwin Hughes of the 13th Light Dragoons.) On the 7th of April 1992 a re-dedication service and memorial parade took place, attended by representatives of both regiments as well as present-day ex-servicemen's associations.
(See copies of newspaper reports of this, order of service, and photographs of the gravestone after renovation and following the laying of wreaths, in the "Memoirs" file and 17th Lancer file.)
[RM: On 14th July 2004 his grave at Layton was re-dedicated in a memorial service held by HRH Princess Alexandra, deputy colonel-in chief of the 17th Queens Royal Lancers. See copy in 17th Lancers file.]
