James WEBSTER - 902, 17th Lancers

James Webster was born in the small town of Erdington, now a suburb of Birmingham, Warwickshire, in the first months of 1828. As a youth of 19 he enlisted into the British Army, in the shape of the 17th Light Dragoons (Lancers), at Birmingham (which was in the Coventry District) on the 25th of January 1847. At his enlistment he was shown as being 5ft 7 and a half inches tall and was paid the bounty of 5 pounds, 5 shillings and sixpence, with a further 2 shillings and sixpence going to his recruiters.

The 17th Lancers were at that time serving in Ireland with the Headquarters at Dundalk, and it was there that James joined his new unit on the 24th of February 1847, having landed at Dublin two days earlier. On arrival at the HQ he was given the regimental number of 902, this number would remain with him throughout the next 24 years.

The 17th Lancers remain at Dundalk for the next couple of months until the majority of the men travelled to Dublin between the 20th and 24th of April 1847, Webster however stays at Dundalk in a detachment under Major Burdett and resides for 6 days in the hospital around the April muster period. The detachment remains at Dundalk until the 6th of October, the 51 men making their way to Dublin to rejoin the HQ and arriving on the 9th, during the period at Dundalk James spends the 6 days at the end of August and beginning of September in the hospital.

Having arrived at Dublin there is little of consequence until the next year. On the 6th of April 1848 Private Webster is shown in the garrison cells, having committed an undisclosed offence. He remains in the cells for 6 days, being released on the 12th with no mention of charge.

On the 5th of July Webster is among a group of 33 men who go on detachment at Portadown (178 miles under T.S.M. Joshua Bolshaw), they arrive at Portadown on the 10th of July. Whatever the purpose of this journey, it is a quick stay as the detachment begins the journey back to Dublin on the 13th of July and is back in Dublin on the 18th.

Apart from a furlough that James took from the 1st to the 30th of December 1848, there were no other occurrences during this year. The quiet life at Dublin continues, a period of 12 days being spent in hospital in the summer of 1849 being the only mention in the musters.

Private Webster goes absent on the 14th of March 1850 for a day, no action is taken against him except the docking of a days' pay. In April the regiment, after a quiet two years at Dublin is sent to Newbridge with Troops being detached to various out-stations. The Headquarters with most of the men are at Newbridge by the 20th of April 1850, the detachments being as follows:

Clonmel (61 men), arrived on the 1st of April

Waterford (38 men), arrived on the 1st of April

Kilkenny (38 men), arrived on the 2nd of April

Carrick-on-Suir (22 men), arrived on the 2nd of April

Private Webster (along with Lt. W.F. Richards, Asst. Surgeon H. Kendall and 655 Sgt. William Barker) is in the Carrick-on-Suir detachment, where he was to remain for the next 12 months. The regiment is collected back at Newbridge by the 11th of April 1851, and from there they move to Dublin, boarding ships which take them to Liverpool by the 13th of May 1851. The following day the majority of the men of the 17th Lancers board the ship 'The Prince & Duchess of Kent' at Liverpool and take the trip around the coast, finally arriving at Woolwich.

On the 24th of May a party of 143 men, including Webster, travel to their new station at Canterbury, other parties had moved to Canterbury on the 22nd (138 men) and a party of 1 Officer and 43 men had come down country by 'steam' (train).

James remains at Canterbury, taking a furlough from the 1st to the 31st of January 1852, until the 16th of June 1852 when he is in a detachment of 95 men under Captain H.R. Benson at Christchurch, the remainder of the Lancers making their way to Brighton with another detachment at Trowbridge.

Webster is ill in hospital for 26 days in September 1852 and another 36 days over the period of November and December, he then goes on furlough from the 11th of February to the 8th of March 1853.

By April the detachment from Christchurch has moved to Dorchester, the 102 men then on the strength rejoining the HQ at Chobham camp over the period of the 7th to the 14th of June 1853, the detachment was under the command of Lieutenant Learmouth at that time.

On the 28th of July 1853 Webster gains his first good conduct badge and penny a day increase in pay, at that time he was in a small detachment under 954 Corporal William Powland at Windsor (leaving Chobham on the 14th of July), this duty would no doubt be for the purpose of a providing honour guards to visiting dignitaries. This small detachment rejoins the HQ (then at Hounslow) by the end of August 1853 and they are still there (with a detachment at Hampton Court, but this does not involve Webster) when the Crimean War begins.

Here we take extracts from The Death or Glory Boys — The story of the 17th Lancers, D.H. Parry, 1899:

[PB: Start and finish of quoted passage?]

The causes that led up to the Crimean war are too well known to need more than a passing word here. The original "cloud in the East," old as the Crusades, is the custody of the Holy Sepulchre; and the thousand and one political considerations to which it gave rise may be found in a thousand and one histories; suffice for our purpose to record that we formed an alliance with France to help the Turk against Russia, and that spring of 1854 saw us busy with military preparations on a larger scale than had been necessary since the days of Waterloo.

The l7th were then lying at Hounslow, with D troop taking the Hampton Court duty, and the six troops of which the regiment then consisted were at once formed into four for service, and two for the depot at Brighton, the first-named being 314 strong, of all ranks; the latter 72.

By the middle of April, those destined to remain behind had been carefully weeded out and the band broken up. It had consisted of some 20 performers, many of them foreigners, who claimed their discharge, while about 3 were turned into the ranks.

Two brothers named Deakon — 1st cornet and trombone — deserted; were traced to the orchestra at the notorious Argyle Rooms, but, eluding pursuit, were afterwards heard of travelling with Wombwell's Menagerie.

Through Godalming and Petersfield the regiment marched for Portsmouth, the advanced portion being billeted at Emsworth and Havant, until the five merchant vessels hired by Government for their conveyance were ready to receive them.

At last, on Tuesday, 18th April, the Ganges and Pride of the Ocean were alongside the dockyard; the former, officially known as Transport No. 20, being a rapid sailer of about 950 tons; the other, Transport No. 21, a beautiful American clipper ship of 1,400 tons.

The weather was magnificent, the town full of Easter holiday-makers, and the whole place agog to witness the embarkation, the band of the 79th Highlanders marching up the London road to meet the first division and play it to the waterside.

About a mile out, the head of the blue column came in sight, and to the strains of "Cheer, boys! cheer!" and "Oh Susannah, don't you cry for me," the gallant lads, with their red and white pennons fluttering gaily from the lance shafts, rode in through streets thronged with onlookers, who cheered them to the echo, and dismounted near the quay somewhere about ten o'clock.

It was the first time for 46 years that they had left for active service, and only the second occasion in the whole of their history that they were taking their own horses with them.

The mounts were very restive, and the process of slinging them on board the Pride of the Ocean was an exciting one, performed under the eye of their colonel — Lawrenson — and a fashionable gathering.

One man, Housden, was badly kicked on the head, but, in reply to the colonel's inquiry, said it was nothing to the cuts he expected to get before long, and the whole of the 80 horses were eventually stalled in less than three hours, leaving the coast clear for the advent of the second division, which arrived about 3.30, and transferred themselves on to the Ganges, both vessels dropping down to Spithead the same evening.

On the 23rd, 24th, and 25th, the remainder of the regiment went on board the Eveline (headquarter ship, Webster was on board this), the Blundell, and the Edmundsbury.

An idea had gained ground that our cavalry was to be shipped across the Channel, and from thence to make a triumphal progress through Paris to Marseilles, a wag in the French capital going so far as to perpetrate a huge hoax on thousands of the Parisians, who assembled at a Parts terminus to witness their arrival on that very significant of dates — April the First! But a long sea voyage was before them, and, after a variety of experience, they reached the Dardanelles about the middle of May.

On the 18th, the Ganges anchored astern of the Pride of the Ocean, waiting for steamers to tow them up, and the tug, by some mistake, taking charge of the hindmost ship first, a little pleasantry was indulged in as she passed her consort, Captain Winter, of E troop, on the Ganges, telling his trumpeter to sound "revallay" — a kind of "Now then, you fellows, wake up!"

The skipper of the other vessel was not to be outdone, though, and, shaking loose his foresails, forged ahead and passed the Ganges; whereupon, Captain Webb, of D troop, ordered his trumpeter, Landfried, who still survives, to sound the "Trot!"

It is said that while waiting the arrival of the tugs, Captain Winter and Cornet Cleveland were rowed ashore in a boat, and, making a bet who would land first, both jumped over in shallow water and splashed their way towards the beach, Winter, a very tall man, winning, and so enjoying the honour of being the first of the Cavalry Brigade to touch Turkish ground. Alas! neither of them was destined to set foot on English soil again!

The regiment walked its horses ashore at Kulali — twenty-six had died on the voyage — and on the 30th May it was inspected by the Sultan, Abdul-Medjid, at Scutari, and, re-embarking on 2nd June, sailed for Varna, where it swam its cattle from the ship, and there became part of Cardigan's immortal Light Brigade on the 4th.

On the 8th it marched to Devna, eighteen miles off, encamped there until the 28th July, and moved on to Yeni-bazar, where cholera came into its ranks and carried off 12 men.

It was back in Varna at the end of August, and, embarking on the 2nd and 3rd September, sailed for the Crimea, losing 2 more men on the voyage, and landed on the 17th at Kalamita, or, as our fellows called "Calamity " Bay. The regimental strength was then only 247 of all ranks, and on the 19th the allied army set out on its march towards SebastopoL

The infantry -was in close column, the 17th being in rear of the left flank, from which position it was hurried up with the 8th Hussars to support the advance guard, which came in touch with the Russian cavalry across the Bulganak River, in the afternoon.

There was some carbine firing, and a few horses were killed; our Horse Artillery galloped forward and let fly, but the enemy declined to attack us, and after a little booming of guns on both sides, we bivouacked in battle array, and so spent the night that preceded Alma.

Alma was an infantry fight, but the 17th followed the Highland Brigade without orders, incurred the forcible displeasure of fiery Sir Colin Campbell, and were capturing prisoners on the heights when Lord Raglan stopped pursuit.

There were early complications with the French commanders, and one of the first was a two days' wait before we again advanced, but on the 24th our cavalry went forward as far as the Belbec River, to find all quiet in that direction.

On the 25th we began a flank march through woods and swamps to gain the south side of Sebastopol, against the wish of Lord Raglan, who had intended to attack the city from the north, and on the march we fell in with the Russian baggage and rearguard at the Khutor Mackenzie, or Mackenzie's farm, as our men christened it, named after a Scottish admiral in the Russian service.

There was a bit of a scrimmage, the Greys dismounting to skirmish, and some Rifles hurrying up on gun limbers, one of the enemy on the other side of a marsh potting us with so much success that Lord Cardigan is said to have offered £5 to the first man who would shoot him.

"Jack" Berryman, of the 17th, captured three prisoners, and we took some waggons, the army afterwards bivouacking on the Tchernaya, and eventually coming to a halt on the plains of Balaclava, where the real business of war commenced.

In common with the rest of the British forces, the 17th had landed in the clothes they stood in, and were destitute of everything; even their round-ended valises had been left on board ship and were not forthcoming.

Their uniform was a blue double-breasted jacket, with white collar, cuffs, and turnbacks to the tails, but no "butterfly" on the breast, which was not adopted until the tunic of 1855 was served out.

Their dress caps were worn cased the whole time; their trousers of lightish grey with two white stripes were strapped with cloth up to the fork, the booted overall being adopted afterwards, and the saddle was placed over a white blanket folded to eighteen thicknesses, or plie, the blue cloak being folded in front over the holsters, and a black sheepskin above all.

On the shoulders were the circular brass pads and scales, and below the red and yellow girdle at the back was a little ornamental tuft of white wool, old as the regulation of 1812.

Water bottle and white havresack completed their appearance; all these details being here placed on record from the mouth of one who wore the dress.

And now began an arduous spell of patrol and outpost duty, which severely taxed our weak cavalry regiments, who suffered too from the cold, and who had also to put up with a considerable amount of chaff from the rest of the army, which made them the more resolved when their time came.

Colonel Lawrenson having gone home invalided, Major Willet took command of the 17th, and the major dying on the 23rd October, Captain Morris, hearing of a probable attack on Balaclava, threw up his staff appointment and returned to the regiment on the 24th, still wearing his staff-undress, frock-coat and forage cap.

It must be borne in mind that Balaclava, straggling along the edge of the deep, land-locked harbour, was our base and the spot from whence our supplies — when any could be drawn, which was not often — wore obtained; and Sir Colin Campbell, with the 93rd Highlanders and some Turks, was charged with its defence; Lucan's Cavalry Division, which consisted of Scarlett's Heavy and Cardigan's Light Brigades, being encamped close by.

As is well known, Cardigan and Lucan — the l7th's former Lord Bingham — were brothers-in-law, and there was bad blood between them, which was not appeased by the stirring events that followed.

It was the custom of the cavalry to stand to their horses an hour before dawn, to await the staff-officers' reports from the outlying pickets, and then, all being reported quiet, to dismiss for breakfast; but on the morning of the 25th October, as, indeed, for two or three mornings, there was no breakfast for them; Lord Lucan, with the first grey streak of daybreak, espying a signal on the flagstaff of the Causeway Heights that warned him that the enemy were coming on in force!

Lord George Paget, commanding the 4th Light Dragoons, at once galloped back to his men, and as Lord Cardigan was still on board his yacht Dryad, on which it was his habit to sleep the night, Paget got the Light Brigade into the saddle, Lucan sending down an order immediately after for the cavalry to advance.

Later in the morning they were retired a little out of gun-shot, and waited in that position, with their faces to the foe, until the arrival of the famous order that sent them to glory and the grave!

With the "thin red line" of Highlanders (and about thirty Guardsmen) we have nothing to do in this place, nor yet with the immortal " three hundred " and the rest of Scarlett's horsemen; their exploits took place in the south valley, and constitute one of the reddest and most lustrous pages in British history; our mission is with the Light Brigade, and more particularly with the 17th Lancers.

Picture two grassy valleys, running roughly east and west, and divided by the Causeway Heights.

South of the southernmost valley, Sir Colin's Highlanders, barring the way to Balaclava, and a dense mass of Russian cavalry pouring over the heights towards them, only to be repulsed by their magnificent steadiness and withering fire, and afterwards by the daring dash of Scarlett's men.

At the western end of the north valley — spectators of the fight and burning to take part in it — the Light Brigade, with Cardigan at its head, glittering in his brilliant 11th Hussar uniform, and cursing the bad luck that kept him inactive.

At this time the Brigade was drawn up with three of its five skeleton regiments in the first line: the 11th Hussars on the left, the 17th Lancers in the centre, and the 13th Light Dragoons on the right, with the 4th Light Dragoons and 8th Hussars behind them; when the moment for the advance arrived the 11th were formed in a second line, thus leaving the 17th and 13th in front.

Captain Morris, whom we have seen return to his regiment on the eve of action, was senior captain of the l7th, and had seen considerable service in India, although he was only thirty-four; having been at Maharajapore, wounded at Aliwal, and present with the army of the Sutlej; and earlier in the day he had urged Cardigan to let him go in with the l7th to help the Heavies, without avail.

The regiment mustered only 139 strong, but at the last moment it received a rather gruesome addition in the person of the regimental butcher, John Veigh, who rode up in a canvas smock, blood-stained from the shambles, selected the better of two spare swords, and with a short black pipe alight took his place in the ranks.

Like Morris he scented a fight and meant to be there; and it is on record that two butchers of the Heavies had done the same thing with their brigade.

The officers with the l7th that morning were: — Morris, commanding; Captain Robert White, of C troop, who led the 1st squadron; Captain John Pratt Winter, of E troop, who led the 2nd squadron; Captain A.F.C. Webb, who led D troop; Captain the Hon. Godfrey C. Morgan (now Lord Tredegar), who led B troop; Lieutenant J. H. Thompson, of C troop; Lieutenant Sir W. Gordon, Bart., of E troop; Lieutenant J. W. Cradock-Hartopp, serrefile; Lieutenant and Adjutant J. Chadwick; and Cornet Archibald Cleveland [Clevland], serrefile — Cornet Wombwell riding on Cardigan's staff. With the exception of the brigadier, who was a perfect demon in the matter of dress and equipment, there was very little show in that group of 670 odd horsemen, drawn up at the mouth of the north valley.

Their uniforms were stained and patched, their shirts, to quote the words of one of them, "were simply rotting off their backs"; the Lancers' caps and the Light Dragoons' shakos were covered with oilskin cases, the Hussars wore no plumes — the smart dangling pelisses of the 11th had been put on as an extra garment, but the three weak troops of the 8th had to dispense with the luxury, their pelisses having been lost in transit between ship and shore.

It was essentially a blue brigade, save for the crimson overalls and busby bags of the 11th, the touch of faded scarlet on the head-dress of the 8th and the collars and cuffs of the 4th Lights, and the white facings of the two remaining regiments, which had probably forgotten the taste of pipeclay for many a day.

But a flash of colour darted up to Lucan as Captain Nolan, of the 15th Hussars, in full uniform, brought the order whose misinterpretation caused such harrowing slaughter and subsequent discussion; and properly to understand the facts, it is necessary to glance at the position of the ground and the forces of the enemy in and about the north valley.

The Causeway Heights, which we have spoken of as dividing the two valleys, had been taken by the Russian cavalry when they encountered the Heavy Brigade earlier in the morning, and though Scarlett's charge had driven them back, the heights themselves, bristling with the Allied redoubts, remained in the enemy's hands.

Lord Raglan from his position had a clear view of the field, and seeing that another body of Russian Horse was approaching, escorting artillery with lasso-tackle, he concluded that their object was the removal of our guns from the redoubts, and at once took steps to prevent it.

The final order is historically known as the "fourth," following as it did on three previous ones to advance the cavalry, and it was brought by Nolan, in writing:

" Lord Raglan wishes the cavalry to advance rapidly to the front, follow the enemy, and try to prevent the enemy carrying away the guns. Troop of Horse Artillery may accompany. French cavalry is on your left. Immediate. "(Signed) R. AIREY

This order was misinterpreted by Lord Lucan, though he shows in his subsequent despatch that he know well enough which guns were intended; there were circumstances, however, that seem to have upset his judgement at a moment when it ought to have been calm.

He questioned the advisability of the order to the aide-de-camp, who, a mighty believer in the efficacy of cavalry under any conditions, ventured to observe in reply, "Lord Raglan's orders are that the cavalry should attack immediately."

"Attack, sir! attack what? — What guns, sir?" It is only fair to add that the redoubts were not actually visible from Lucan's position, though that really matters very little when his despatch is considered.

"There, my lord, is your enemy, there are your guns," said Nolan, waving his hand, largely, towards the valley and speaking with some warmth: it was not for him to particularise, he was evidently chafing at the delay, and his tone has been deprecated as conveying something in the nature of a rebuke. It was the younger school impatient with one whose traditions dated back to the Georges, and the earl was not unnaturally angered..

Choosing to accept Nolan's waving arm as indicative of the true direction, he trotted back alone to Cardigan, and ordered him to attack the Russians at the other end of the valley, Cardigan saluting in reply, and suggesting difficulties, as the enemy had batteries in front and on both flanks.

Lord Lucan shrugged his shoulders, saying that "There was no choice but to obey," and the rest of the affair lay in Cardigan's hand, Lucan simply ordering the 11th Hussars back into second line.

Cardigan, two lengths in front of Wombwell and Maxse, and about five from the first rank of the men, after giving instructions to Lord George Paget, turned his head and said, "The line will advance, right squadron 17th will direct," and moved forward at a trot.

Survivors question the sounding of any trumpet! Scarcely had the Light Brigade traversed a hundred paces when Cardigan's military instincts received a severe shock, for Captain Nolan, who was riding with them, swept across his front from left to right, pointing wildly with his sword towards the redoubt on the Causeway Heights, and shouting, "Threes right!" in a vain endeavour to alter the direction which he knew to be absolutely wrong.

Captain Morris shouted, "That won't do, Nolan; we've a long way to go, and must be steady," and Cardigan, boiling with anger at what he thought presumptuous interference, cried with great vehemence, "No, no! Threes back into line!" Then the first shell burst, a splinter striking Nolan in the heart, and the advancing troopers saw a strange sight.

The sword fell from the upraised hand, but the arm remained in the air. The leg's still gripped the saddle, and the body was yet erect, as his horse turned and galloped back along the line, and one agonised shriek burst from his lips, never to be forgotten by those who heard it!

It was not until the animal had carried him through the 13th Light Dragoons that his grip relaxed, and he fell dangling by one stirrup iron, the first man killed in that bad business.

But Cardigan kept on, only turning once to check Captain White, of the 17th, who was trying to force the pace, and although they were now under a fearful fire, it was only by degrees that the speed was increased to a gallop.

Straight in front of them the Cossack battery of 12 guns was ploughing along the historic "half league" full in their faces, and behind the battery were mustered dense squadrons of Russian Horse. Jabrokitsky's infantry and artillery thronged the Fedioukine Hills on the left, and the Causeway Heights on the right, along which wound the Woronzow Road, swarmed with infantry and guns, from all of which three separate points the deadly fire was kept up on the doomed advance, which became frightfully decimated as it drew nearer and nearer.

When about 80 yards from the main battery the Russians discharged almost every gun of the 12, and the first line of the brigade, then going at the estimated rate of 17 miles an hour, was cruelly shattered.

One of the l7th, a private named James Melrose, and known in the regiment as a Shakesperean reciter, had a moment before exclaimed, "What man here would ask another man from England?" The next instant, and the iron hail whanged into the squadron and he fell, with scores of his comrades.

It is hardly possible to convey an idea of the slaughter of that ride. "Steady there; close up, close up!" was the constant cry as man and horse went down, and not the least heartrending part of it was the inevitable trampling on the wounded by the three other regiments which came pounding in the rear.

Part of the left squadron of the l7th outflanked the battery, passing it in the blinding smoke; the rest of the regiment followed Cardigan through and over the brass guns.

Morris was with that portion which went by comparatively unscathed — about 20 men in all — and suddenly coming upon a squadron of Russian Hussars, he turned to his following, and crying, "Remember what I have told you, men, and keep well together!" rode straight for the Russian leader, running him through with such force that he toppled him over on the off side of his horse, and, unable to disengage hand from sabre-hilt, was actually fastened to his adversary without the power to do anything.

The enemy, closing round him, sabred him severely about the head, cutting through his forage cap and rendering him unconscious, in which condition we will leave him for a while, and ride in fancy with the rest.

Among them was a veteran of Afghanistan and India, still affectionately spoken of by the handful who survive as "Old Jack Penn," though he himself has long joined the majority. Penn volunteered out of the 3rd Light Dragoons into the l7th immediately on his return from India, in 1853, and came out to the Crimea with a draft that left Portsmouth in June. On reaching the battery he drove his lance into a gunner and left it there, and when the regiment opened out after passing the guns he rode at a Russian Hussar officer, who turned to fly.

Penn pursued him on his near side, and with "cut six" nearly severed his head from his body!

The Lancer's horse receiving a ball in the shoulder, he dismounted, and cut off' the Hussar's pouch belt, also taking possession of his clasp-knife and sword, which he used with effect on the return ride.

It is believed to have been somewhere about the moment when the bulk of the battery was discharged — reducing the first line to a possible 50 or 60 men — that Goad and Montgomery, of the 13th, and Winter and Thompson, of the 17th, were killed, and Webb and Sir William Gordon wounded.

Winter was last seen among the guns laying about him with a will; and his horse, badly hit with grape, was one of the first to gallop back to our own lines.

Troop Sergeant-Major Berryman, on reaching the guns, felt his mare stop dead, and, himself slightly wounded, he got down to find her off hind-leg broken, and while debating whether to shoot her, Captain Webb rode up to him, hit in the leg, and asking what he had better do.

"Stick to your horse, sir, and get back as far as you can," said Berryman, getting on a riderless charger and going in again; but his new mount was struck full in the chest, and the sergeant-major went down in a moment. All was smoke and confusion, and there seemed nothing for it but to make his way out, which he did, passing through the 11th Hussars, who closed in to let him by as they tore on their road to glory.

Berryman saw that Captain Webb had halted, unable to ride farther from the agony of his wound — the shin was completely pulverised — and running to him he lifted him out of the saddle, Lieutenant Smith, of the 13th, holding the horse meantime, and then riding off for a stretcher, Berryman remaining under heavy fire with the wounded officer, although he urged him to save himself.

Later on he was joined by Sergeant Farrell, also of the 17th, whom he called over to his assistance, and the two remained by the popular captain until help came in the person of Private Malone of the 13th, when they made shift to carry him in among them, Farrell's cap being taken off by a round shot as they went, and all throe earning the Victoria Cross for their bravery and self-devotion.

The rest of the 17th, with the Light Dragoons, were meanwhile busy among the guns, sabring at the gunners, who made a gallant stand, and " Butcher Jack" was seen to cut down six with his own hand, still smoking the black pipe, which was alight when he returned without a scratch!

An attempt was made by the gunners to draw off their pieces, and a small body of the 17th, rallied by Sergeant O'Hara, were doing their best to prevent it, when the brigade-major, Mayow, shouted "l7th, 17th, this way \" to warn them of the approach of the cavalry which was preparing for a dash on the broken remnants.

Thinking from the direction of his pistol that he ordered an advance on the left front, O'Hara and a handful went on, leaving about 15 of the l7th with Mayow, who led them into the Russian Horse beyond the battery.

Just as the Hussars opposed to Morris's outflanking band had fallen back before their rush, so did the grey-coats whom Mayow charged retreat up the valley, although there were squadrons upon squadrons all about them who might simply have ridden our entire brigade to pulp had they been properly led.

Our first line was by this time broken up into groups and driblets, fighting independently, or making their way back among the debris of dead and wounded; of horses in every attitude of hideous agony; of torn and trampled men, with faces crushed by iron hoofs out of all human semblance, or lacerated beyond hope of recovery, yet still living, still sentient!

And over this mass of misery and crumpled valour came the "Cherry-pickers " and the Royal Irish, and Paget's Light Dragoons; into the guns, through and beyond them, dropping units at every stride, and accompanied by a surge of riderless horses that added to the chaos of it all.

Everything becomes confused and uncertain, but everything is heroic; "glimpses through the cannon smoke" of personal combats, always unequal; of Morris, recovering consciousness to find himself sorely beset by the Cossacks who prodded him with their lances as he lay, and he vainly whirling his sabre round to keep them off, until he was fain to surrender to an officer; of Chadwick, whose bright bay with the four white legs had come to a stand from wounds and loss of blood, leaving the lieutenant still in the saddle, warding off enemy after enemy, until a lance in the neck threw him stunned to the ground; of Cardigan himself, first at the guns, and then charging alone on to a squadron of the foe who tried to capture him; turning his thoroughbred chestnut and riding back through the now silent battery, almost unhorsed by a right-roar-point from a Cossack spear, and then, mistaking some retiring men in front for the relics of his first line, heading straight back to the starting-place as proudly as he had left it.

Nor must the French aid be forgotten; the gallant dash of the 4th Chasseurs-a-cheval on to the Fedioukine Hills to silence the guns in the scrub there; a scamper of grey horses, whose blue-coated, red-breeched riders rolled up the Russians and left 2 of their own officers and 8 men dead and 28 wounded.

The bulk of the 17th — and what an insignificant bulk it was — after penetrating some distance up the valley, retired before an overwhelming mass of cavalry; picked up O'Hara's handful on the way, and drove through Cossacks and Dragoons obliquely across the battleground until they gained the vicinity of Scarlett's Brigade, while the rest of the regiment, after furious slaughter among the guns, rode back as best they could by twos and threes.

Penn returned with a portion of the second line, charging through a body of the enemy that tried to stay them, and, using the sword of the Russian officer he had killed, at the seventh guard he snapped off 10 inches of the point, ultimately getting safely back, to receive the distinguished service medal, and be afterwards invalided home from a touch of sun when on outpost at Baidar, in reality the result of a severe roll under his horse at field drill in India two years before.

He has left it on record that the l7th's lances, with the gay pennons fluttering, were much shattered by grape-shot during the advance.

Twenty-Five minutes after the order to charge was given, the remains of the Light Brigade were back again, and of the 140 who went in with the 17th, Captain Morgan numbered off thirty-four survivors.

Six hundred and seventy-eight men, worn with service, had disorganised and defeated more than 5,000 of the enemy's Horse on an empty stomach in something under half an hour, and it says much for our men and very little for the foe that a solitary survivor lived to tell the tale.

Of the entire brigade 113 were killed, 134 wounded, while the mortality among the horses amounted to 475 killed or afterwards shot as unserviceable, and 42 more or less seriously hurt.

Of the l7th Lancers, Captain Winter and Lieutenant Thompson, with 22 men, never returned from the "Valley of Death"; Captains White and Webb were wounded, the latter mortally; Sir William Gordon's head was terribly gashed by five sword cuts; Chadwick and 13 men were wounded and taken prisoners; Hartopp escaped, as did also Wombwell, after losing 2 horses.

Captain Morgan's charger, "Sir Briggs," was slashed over the eye, and the regiment lost altogether 99 mounts. Captain Morgan had a narrow shave at the battery, a gun being discharged apparently full at him, the ball, however, striking his right-hand man in the chest! A great number of the men were killed by lance wounds, one having thirteen through chest and stomach; another six; the latter — he was of the l7th, and he came out alive — losing 2 horses under him, getting several sabre cuts and bullet holes through his cap, his sword bent double in the sheath by a minie ball, five bullets in his saddle, one in his lance staff, and sword wounds innumerable. Truly about as satisfying a feast of glory as the greediest could desire.

The experience of Captain Morris was dramatic; we left him a prisoner, badly wounded and in great pain, and chance brought him to the side of Wombwell, also a prisoner. "Look out and catch a horse!" he said to the captured aide-de-camp, and several riderless mounts passing at the moment, Wombwell suddenly made a dash for freedom, and luckily succeeded, returning safely with the 4th Light Dragoons. Morris soon lost sight of the officer to whom he had surrendered, and, being menaced by the Cossacks, mustered strength to run into some thick smoke, caught a spare horse by the rein, and after being dragged some distance fell and swooned away again.

Coming to, he saw that he had attracted the unwelcome attentions of another mounted Russian, who looked at him with murder in his eye; so, scrambling to his feet, he again sought shelter in the powder smoke, and, almost run down by another loose horse, managed to secure him and get into the saddle, spurring up the valley to escape the cross-fire, which, however, caught the animal, and brought him down, dead, with the captain's thigh pinned beneath him!

Once more the wounded man became unconscious, but sense returning — he had three deep wounds in the head, a fractured right arm, and some broken ribs — he worked his leg clear and started running, stumbling on to his face several times, until, utterly exhausted, he recognised the body of his friend Nolan, and lay down beside it.

Strange coincidence; they had exchanged letters in the event of anything happening, and as they lay there, the dead Hussar -with the torn heart, and the unconscious Lancer, Nolan's uniform contained a message to Morris's wife, and in Morris's pocket was a letter to Nolan's widowed mother!

Troop Sergeant-Major Wooden, of the 17th, went out to the captain's aid with Surgeon Mouat, of the 6th Dragoons, and, after a rough dressing of wounds under fire, they got him in to the lines, both winning the V.C.

Although so desperately hurt, Captain Morris recovered, and died in India in 1858, Wooden, who was of German extraction, ultimately becoming quartermaster in the 104th, and, sadly enough, blowing his brains out many years after at Dover.

Speaking with something of a German accent, Wooden was one dark night challenged by a sentry, and for the moment could not recollect the password.

"Hush. 'Tish me!" he whispered, as the man brought down his lance. " Who?"

"'Tish me! 'Tish me!" came the answer; but the sentry either could not, or, what is more likely, would not, recognise the voice, and wanted to know "who the blankoty blank 'Tish me might happen to be." "'Tish me, the devil!" cried the angry Wooden, "Pass, 'Tish me the devil!" and for the remainder of his service with the "Death or Glory Boys " Wooden went by that sobriquet. Kinglake implies that Sergeant O'Hara was instrumental in the captain's rescue, having been told of his whereabouts by Private Smith, and of Smith, Mutiny men of the 17th tell a good story.

Nicknamed "Fighting Smith" by an admiring public, this veteran died recently in St. Pancras Workhouse — that last abiding place of far too many old soldiers — being also accorded the honour of a military funeral, but in the regiment he was known as "Blood Smith," and this was how he got the name.

He was always getting into trouble, and one day when in India, after the Crimea, he paraded with only one spur, which was quickly noted by the commanding officer.

"Where's your spur, Smith?" said the colonel. "Lost it, sorr." " Where did you lose it, pray?", "Up to my knees in blood, fightin' for my counthry, sorr," was the unabashed reply, and the name of "Blood Smith" stuck to him ever after.

A remarkable relic of the Balaclava charge was discovered on the ground a few months ago, when some boys removed a large boulder to get the honey from a bees' nest beneath it.

There was a mouldering helmet, lying as it had undoubtedly lain for forty-five years, and on its front, grinning through the tarnish of nearly half a century, was the grim badge of the l7th Lancers!

Another relic which not long ago created some sensation was the bugle of Trumpet-Major Joy, who was Lucan's orderly trumpeter on that day of days, and for many years private messenger to the Duke of Cambridge at the Horse Guards. Whether there was any trumpet note at all I cannot say; as I have mentioned before, survivors are dubious on the point, but in the honest belief that the instrument was one whose call had launched the Light Brigade on its death ride, Mr. Middle-brook, the patriotic landlord of the well-known "Edinburgh Castle," bought it for the enormous sum of 750 guineas under the hammer, and, with a fine feeling that does him honour, the bugle at his death will pass once more into the possession of the regiment.

Douglas, of the 10th Hussars, gives some interesting reminiscences in his book of Balaclava and its survivors — there are about nine of the l7th still on the roll (1899) — and he narrates how the first anniversary of the charge was celebrated in the Crimea, in a store-hut cleared for the occasion, with bran sacks for tablecloth, and how Sergeant Roardon, of the Royal Dragoons, recited Tennyson's "Charge of the Six Hundred" for the first time.

He also tells of two trumpeters — who shall be nameless, as one of them is still living — one belonging to the l7th Lancers, the other to the 8th Hussars, and how as provost-sergeant he came upon them one Christmas night under laughable circumstances.

"Both were short and stumpy," he says, and both in a marvellous degree were partial to a 'dhrop' of anything — no matter what, hard or soft, mixed or 'nate' it was all one to them. They were the most inseparable of chums, so inseparable that we named them the Siamese twins.

[PB: Check punctuation etc. Who are these men?]

"If you wanted B___, look for D___, and you could not miss him also should D___'s presence be needed, find B___ and you secured the other too, so they were fitly named. "And what connived at this Damon and Pythias feeling was this peculiarity that D___, when drunk, was able to walk, but could not sound a note upon his trumpet; while B___, on the contrary, could do anything in the sounding line, but was unable to walk a step. So this was how they managed it: D___ carried B___ on his back round the quarters both of the 8th and l7th, at each corner B___ winding out the First and last posts.'

"It was their particular fortune that, however drunk they might be, they could not be confined, as there was no one to relieve them; so they got drunk when they liked, and kept up the carrying game, and it was this I had a laugh at on leaving our Christmas party that night on provost duty."

The sadly diminished Light Brigade was ordered up to support the French cavalry at Inkerman, and the l7th had three casualties to report — one man killed, another wounded, and Cornet Cleveland struck in the side by a shell splinter, from the effects of which he died next morning.

He was only twenty-two, a fine young fellow of grand physique, the only son of a Waterloo officer of the Inniskilling Dragoons, and nephew to Major Willett, of the l7th. Succeeding to a large fortune at twenty-one, he was contemplating selling out, when the war came, and he went to the front instead, very popular with the officers and men of the regiment.

At Balaclava his horse was hit twice before he reached the battery, and while Cleveland was engaging a dismounted gunner the animal was run through the leg, and could hardly be brought to a trot.

Three Cossacks attacked him, thus handicapped, but he wounded the first, received a lance thrust through his cartouch box, and a prod in the ribs from the third, which bruised him, coming out otherwise unhurt, only to fall a few days later in that useless advance of our Light Brigade which we owed to the express solicitation of the French general.

And then came the horrors of the Crimean winter; when all the criminal mismanagement at home began to tell with such cruel effect on "Horse, Foot, and Dragoons."

The remnant of the 17th suffered severely in common with every other regiment out there, their chargers died of starvation, and the ragged, bearded men bore very little resemblance to the smart fellows who rode laughing through the dockyard gates on that smiling April morning.

When the 10th Hussars arrived in the following spring from India, 700 strong, they found the mounted strength of Heavy and Light Brigades combined was not more than thirty files!

During April and June drafts came out to the 17th, and 100 men were sent up the Baidar Valley in July, but the regiment, like all the others who had braved the winter, was in curious case, and wanted careful nursing to bring it up to a semblance of its former self.

After the battle of the Tchernaya, at which the 17th was present, there was little more to be done: the war was coming to a close, and as the weather set in cold, the cavalry was sent into winter quarters.

With the 8th and 10th Hussars, the regiment embarked for Ismid in Turkey, under Brigadier-General Shewell, leaving Balaclava on the 13th November, with many a lingering look at the magnificent coast line of that Crimean peninsula and a sigh for the brave fellows who had landed with them, so full of hope but fourteen months before, and who were then sleeping their last sleep in the "Valley of the Shadow."

The 17th sailed in the Candia and Etna, 15 officers, 291 men, 224 horses, and two days later readied Ismid, occupying the centre of the town, which is terraced on the side of a steep hill overlooking the gulf.

Sergeant Temple was appointed deputy provost-marshal, with a regimental provost from each of the Hussar corps under him, and the Brigade seems to have spent rather a pleasant time in the quaint old Turkish town, with its mosques and minarets, and Missouri's music-hall on the quay, where there was an inter-regimental sing-song every night.

The spring of 1856 saw the regiment en route for home again, a sergeant's party leaving in the Oneida on the 27th April, and the rest on the 29th in the Candia; 18 officers, 442 men, and 171 horses, some of their mounts having been turned over to the 10th Hussars, who had made matters very lively in the cavalry lines with their Arab stallions.

On the 14th May, 1856, they reached Queenstown, with the proud consciousness of having added a fresh laurel to their honours, and one which it would almost seem must remain the brightest of them all; for with the altered conditions of modern warfare it is a million chances to nothing that there can ever be another "Balaclava Charge."

There is something of sad coincidence to be recorded for the 25th October in this present year [1899] of grace, for, on the 44th anniversary of the day when the thunder of the Russian guns rang in the ears of the Light Brigade, the solemn rattle of the funeral volley rolled over the grave of John Swiney, one of the last of the l7th Lancers, who was reverently laid to rest in the picturesque cemetery at Chingford, a few short hours before his remaining comrades met at their annual dinner.

The old veteran had written signifying his intention of being present, little thinking that his name would be coupled with that toast which is drunk standing, and in silence, "To the memory of the dead."

This regimental account gives a fine picture of what the men (including Webster) did during their period in the Crimea. The musters also show that the passage out to the Crimea was taken in the Troop under Lt. Learmouth.

There is no way to confirm or deny from the musters if Webster took part in the charge, but it's more than likely from later events that this was the case. The musters do show however that Private Webster is a prisoner in regimental lines on the 3rd of December 1854 and is convicted by a District Court Martial on the 7th, he was fined 5 days pay and a loss of his 1 penny a day good conduct pay. Webster is at Baidar in July of 1855 and is still there when he is absent (and fined 1 days pay) on the 24th of September 1855.

Webster returned with the main party of the 17th Lancers on the 'Candia' and joins the HQ element at Cahir, the 17th sending out detachments to Clogheen, Clonmel, and Fethard. From July 1856 Webster is shown as the batman to Asst. Surgeon Stanley, this is shown in the remarks column and it's not clear as to the period he carried out this duty, this remark is not in from October.

The Lancers move from Cahir to Dublin in packets from the 9th to the 25th of September 1856 and begin a welcomed period of quiet that was sadly not to last. In the meantime, James takes a furlough from the 1st of December 1856 to the 14th of January 1857. The 17th transfer from the barracks at Portobello to those at Island Bridge in March, at this time the establishment is reduced to 6 troops, 28 officers and 442 men total.

With the Mutiny of the Sepoys in India the 17th were ordered for service in India and received 132 volunteers from the 3rd, 4th and 13th Dragoons and the 11th Hussars. The Lancers entrained at Dublin on the 6th of October 1857 and two days later they boarded the 'Great Britain' in company with their old comrades the 8th Hussars. Here again we rely on the Regimental History by D.H. Parry for our details, the musters show that Webster was 'on field service' from May 1858 until November of that year, so would have been in either A or E Troop under Captain Sir William Gordon.

On the 8th October they sailed, reaching Bombay on the l7th December, both regiments wearing their European clothing, a rational dress for our troops in India being one of the outcomes of the Mutiny campaigns.

It will hardly be credited a century hence that our Carabineers and, I believe, Queen's Bays, wore brass helmets through that broil and moil; that the 93rd marched and bled in feather bonnets — the kilt is by no means to be despised either in heat or cold — and that practically all the difference made in the dress of most of our cavalry regiments was a white cap cover!

The l7th had lost their jackets in 1855, and received a blue tunic instead, with the top of the lapels turned back and showing a white "butterfly" as they called it, but during the Mutiny they wore it buttoned up, blue, and had a white curtain to their peaked forage caps.

The lances of that day were made of lance-wood, and a now attachment was adopted for the pennons which fixed with a spring — those in the Crimea had been tied on with white tape — and in addition to the sling they had an iron guard for the hand, now long since done away with.

The Colonel, three officers, and four roughriders had gone out by the overland route, and when the regiment landed on the 19th and 21st December they took train to Campoolee, en route for Kirkee, where they were to be horsed, and where they arrived about Christmas Day. Horsing was a slow and gradual process, all sorts and conditions of mounts arriving — Arab stallions, Australian walers, a few Cape mares, and a varied assortment of long-tailed, long-maned nondescripts, which were put through their paces as fast as possible, it being the 27th May before the first squadron — A and E troops — were sent up to Mhow under Captain Sir William Gordon, who had been so badly cut about at Balaclava.

All the old l7th men I have spoken to on the subject are unanimous in proclaiming Sir William Gordon one of the smartest officers who ever held her Majesty's commission, and Fortescue has embalmed some of his methods m his excellent history of the regiment.

He tells how Sir William brought his squadron into Mhow, five hundred miles of hard marching, and not a day's halt, without one sore back; inspecting every horse himself, and shifting the stuffing of the saddles with a two-pronged fork where the coat appeared ruffled.

They had done away with the rolled blanket, and used a pannel saddle and numnah then, by the way.

The object of the march of that squadron was to join the command of General Michel, who was on the trail of Tantia Topee, a Mahratta Brahmin, one of the wiliest, and to a certain extent one of the best, of the rebel leaders, from a military point of view. The rascal, who was hand and glove with Nana Sahib, had commanded the Gwalior troops, and been through the thick of the rebellion. He had beaten Wyndham, been thrashed by Colin Campbell, failed in an attempt to relieve Jhansi, sustained two defeats by Sir Hugh Rose, and, about the time that the squadron reached Mhow, he had been again worsted by Sir Robert Napier, and was retreating westward with his following. He was almost of European complexion, with grey hair, and there was still plenty of fight in him, for he kept us busy until the ensuing spring, and was even then only taken by treachery, when deserted by his troops and worn out by the undeniably gallant struggle he had made.

John Michel (gazetted major-general October, 1858) was an active, spare-built man of great energy; warm hearted but impetuous, and a keen sportsman, he proved himself the very officer to cope with the slippery Tantia. He had seen considerable regimental duty with the 57th, 27th, 64th, 3rd, and 6th Foot, ample means enabling him to secure promotion in the palmy old days of "purchase," and after commanding a brigade in the Kaffir war of 1846-7, he saw further service with the Turkish Contingent in the Crimea, and died Field Marshal Sir John Michel, G.C.B, in 1886.

A good deal of the pursuit took place on the l7th's old fighting ground, Malwa, where they had harried the Pindaris in the Mahratta war, one of General Michel's first moves being an advance of two columns to cut Tantia off from Indore, on which he was marching.

Tantia fell back towards Rajghur, and Michel moved up to Nulkeera, where he joined the columns, and had then 1,100 men and 4 guns under him, to oppose 10,000 rebels and 40 pieces of cannon.

His little army was composed of the squadron of the 17th, 80 strong, 180 of the 3rd Light Cavalry, 600 of the 71st Highland Light Infantry and 92nd Gordons, the rest native infantry and Bengal gunners.

On the l4th September General Michel started for Rajghur in the rain, his cavalry splashing through the black mud, and the infantry toiling after them, to halt about half-way, and march again at four o'clock next morning.

September is the unhealthy, steamy month of the Indian season, and the rain was succeeded by distressing heat, when men fell out, and horses died in their tracks, the cavalry outdistancing the infantry, and thus compelling the general to halt from sheer necessity.

Finding, when the march was resumed about half-past two next morning, that the rebels had fallen back, he sent his slender band of horsemen after them, under Sir William Gordon, while he hurried on the rest, and before long they came in touch of Tantia Topee drawn up in battle array, with 8,000 men and 27 guns, formed in two lines.

Sir William prudently halted for the supports to come up, but when they made their appearance the rebels broke and bolted, our cavalry pursuing on the spur, capturing all the guns and only drawing rein from absolute exhaustion.

An Officer of the native cavalry dropped dead from sunstroke when they halted; the l7th had one horse killed; and after a day's rest the little column again started on its avenging mission, only to be stayed by the tropical rain which flooded the country and allowed Tantia to wind his sinewy course through the jungle to Seronge, where he lingered for eight days and then pushed north to storm Esaughur, which done, and seven guns captured, he and Nana Sahib's nephew, Rao Sahib, parted company for a time.

A few days later we again came unexpectedly upon him near Mungrowlee, while pitching our camp after a thirty-five-mile march, one of the l7th dashing in from the picket to report that the rebels wore close by.

With 1,091 men or all arms the general instantly went out to meet them, 5,000 men and 6 guns posted on a strong position, rendered still more secure by a dense jungle, through which some of the rebels crept round to our rear and killed a wounded Highlander. Sir William Gordon galloped up with his troop on the alarm being raised, and, detecting the whereabouts of the cowardly rascals, charged into the jungle in open order.

The "Death or Glory Boys" did tremendous execution among the trees, and gave the rogues a very "bad quarter of an hour," pursuing them singly or in twos and threes, until every point and butt was red, and more than 80 of the Velliattees slain. Sir William slew 4 himself, and bowled over as many more — his own life being saved by Sergeant Cope, who killed a rebel in the act of shooting him in the back — while every one of the 43 men who went in with him is credited with a couple apiece.

Tantia, after a bold show of outflanking us with his horsemen, bolted, leaving his guns in our hands, and while he is flying into the east to join the Rao again, we will glance back as far as Canterbury, returning to India in time to follow the fortunes of the squadron in their next encounter with the rebels at Sindwaho.

At the period of the Indian Mutiny, life in the l7th Lancers was very different to our own day, and we will take a rough page from the experience of one of them, who went out sergeant in charge of a draft a few months after he enlisted.

He walked down to Westminster to join the 16th, but in the sanded bar of a well-known recruiting public-house he chanced upon Sergeant Nibbs, of the "Death or Glory Boys," who took in the position at a glance.

"16th no good for you, my boy; l7th's the rigiment, no work, shoot tigers all day in India, be an officer in six months" — and almost before he knew what it was all about a shilling was slipped into his hand, and, subject to the doctor's approval, he found himself committed to the l7th for fourteen years' peace service or seventeen years' war, at the munificent rate of one and threepence a day, with a bounty of five pounds."

On our recruit's arrival at the Canterbury depot, where he was quartered in the old Artillery Barracks, the first thing that struck him was the small size of the men, accustomed as he had been to the stalwart Lifeguards; and, placed under the hands of Sergeant-Major Cattermole, he was soon immersed in the mysteries of squad drill, riding-school, and the complicated old sword and lance exercise.

The sword, lance, and pistol of that period were supposed to remain in wear for twelve years, the lance pennon for two years; the lance, without the flag, cost 12s., the light cavalry sword £1 2s., and the new pattern, side-lock, pistol, £1 16s.

Those were flogging days, and every Saturday afternoon the farriers had flogging-drill in the riding-school, where they practised on stuffed sacks, the great art being to make the cat fall on the same spot at each stroke.

Stealing, and striking a "non-corn " were the most prevalent crimes, and fifty lashes the usual punishment; no one was thought any the worse of for a spell at the triangles, and it was not an uncommon thing for six infantry men to be whipped before breakfast.

About the fifth stroke the blood flowed, at the tenth the sufferer's back turned blue, and while some men fainted, others would put on their shirts and jackets afterwards as though nothing had happened.

The new recruit had not been long with the depot when he was made corporal, and before he had been passed out of the "ride," Sergeant-Major Cattermole — whose sandy "Dundrearies" were afterwards well known for many years at the portals of the Admiralty — took him before the colonel and advised his promotion as sergeant. He owed the step less, as he modestly says, to any particular smartness, than to the fact that he had some education, and it is hard to realise to-day that of the thirty-two men composing the draft under his charge, he alone could read and write, only a few of the others being able even to sign their names! Doubts having arisen as to the accurate badges for the various non-commissioned ranks, an order had been issued from the Horse Guards, 22nd May, 1850, regulating the matter for the Heavy and Light Dragoons, and the Lancers, and henceforward regimental sergeant-majors were to sport four chevrons with a crown over them; troop-sergeant-majors, three chevrons and a crown; stripe-sergeants three chevrons simply, and corporals two, the badges to be carried on the right sleeve only.

The young sergeant had not much time for "peacocking about" in his new rank, for stern responsibilities quickly followed on his promotion, and on the 11th December his draft sailed from Gravesend in the Bloomer transport, with details of the 7th, 8th, and 14th, and various other regiments destined for India.

The trials of the draft were many, and to begin with the ship lay off Deal for a week, breaking away from two anchors on Christmas Day.

When they were passing the Isle of Wight in a slight fog, the sergeant, who was down below, reading "Peter Simple," was roused by a terrific crash, and rushing on deck found that a Boston whaler had run into them.

The tug Napoleon towed them into Portsmouth Harbour on New Year's Eve, and as they came to anchor in rear of the Victory the ship's bells rang out the Old Year; their next fortnight was spent on the convict hulk Victorious, until the Bloomer was repaired, when they resumed their voyage, making five feet of water a day, and only sighting one ship the whole time. The draft met with a mishap on board, which very nearly resulted in trouble for the sergeant in charge.

Captain Steel, of the 3rd Dragoon Guards, ordered their cloaks to be brought up and hung in the rigging to get out the creases, and a squall coming on they all went over the side.

When they landed, the editor of a Poonah paper got hold of the story and made copy of it, to the disgust of Sir Hugh Rose, who held that someone had been talking, and was within an ace of "breaking" the sergeant over the business, as a matter of fact, he did lose his stripes later on through the kind offices of Colonel Crawley — of Mhow Court Martial fame — but was reinstated by Sir William Gordon, and enjoyed considerable popularity as an impersonator of female parts at ten rupees a night in the regimental theatre.

The draft had taken train from Bombay to Campoolee, and from there proceeded to the Queen's depot at Khandellah, where it lay for three months.

Meanwhile the task of mounting the regiment continued, the 2nd squadron leaving Kirkee for Sholapore on the 11th June, under Major White; the 3rd on the 11th September for Mhow, under Major Learmonth, and headquarters on the 22nd; but before they were all united again Sir William Gordon's squadron had seen some more sharp fighting, and was still hustling the rebels.

After the defeat at Mungrowlee, Tantia Topee had rejoined forces with Rao Sahib, and General Michel came up with the latter at Sindwaho on the 19th October, by forced marches.

They were still in the hilly jungle country, but the rains were over, and the motley costumes of the rebel army peeped, half hidden, through the rank green growth — so concealed that Michel could not tell their numbers, which were afterwards estimated at 10,000.

Michel's force had been augmented, and consisted of rather more than 1,700, among whom were 118 of the l7th's old Balaclava comrades — the 8th Hussars, in their new blue tunics with white wicker helmets, and 4 Royal Horse Artillery guns.

The rebels made a bold start, their infantry advancing downhill on our centre, their horsemen threatening our troopers on the flanks, and their guns plumping some shot into the 17th, who were sent off to the right in anticipation of the usual flight.

We were hotly pressed at one time, and had to mow them down with grape from the grey-painted guns, but once repulsed, their nerve left them, and the 17th, the Hussars, and the 1st Bombay Lancers chased them for nine miles, spearing and cutting them down wholesale.

With Michel's column was a young lieutenant of the 17th Lancers — now known to fame as General Sir Evelyn Wood — who, after winning golden opinions for his courage as a midshipman with Peel's Naval Brigade in the Crimea, had joined the 13th Light Dragoons in 1855, purchased a lieutenancy in the same regiment, and exchanged into the l7th in 1857.

He was the only officer of Gordon's squadron who could speak Hindostani, and at Sindwaho was doing duty with the 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry, a party of which escorted two guns on Michel's left, when they were fired upon by the mutineers.

Seeing some red-coated rebels of the 36th Bengal Native Infantry forming into square, Lieutenant Wood spurred at the corner man, absolutely alone, until a brave trooper of the 3rd rode up to help him, and killed the mutineer, after "having narrowly escaped a cut from a two-handed sword which shore through his saddle into his horse's spine."

Lieutenant Bainbridge, of the 17th, hurried up a knot of the 8th Hussars under Adjutant Harding to Wood's assistance, and as the rebels broke, Harding cried out to Wood to engage one, riding for another himself, and to his death as it proved, the man waiting until he was close upon him, and shooting him dead.

Wood's sepoy also faced his pursuer with the bayonet, but by a fatal error of judgment for himself clubbed his musket at the last moment, and was promptly run through.

The looses of the 17th were a sergeant and 4 men wounded, 3 horses killed, and 4 wounded, while of the enemy 500 were killed, and 6 guns taken, the squadron having very materially helped in the adding up of that total.

But the wily Mahratta was as full of resource as a horse is of bones, and after retreating north he suddenly retraced his steps, and, heading southward, slipped past Michel within four miles of his outposts.

Michel was soon after him, but had to make a detour, sending off a message to Brigadier Parke to warn him of the new movements; and coming on the rebels near the village of Kurai, our cavalry divided Tantia's two wings, Tantia and Rao Sahib escaping with the right while we were breaking up the left wing.

Sir William Gordon pursued for six miles with the 17th and 3rd Bombay, and, checked for a moment by a nullah, saw his men safely over, joined them, and calling out that the first man up with the flying cavalry should loot the leader, led them in open order at full gallop. He was first man in himself, slew the rebel commander, and divided his gold bracelets and costly trinkets among his troopers, and thus brilliantly closed the independent adventures of A and E troops; for the time was approaching when the rest of the regiment was to have its chance. Meanwhile Tantia fled towards Rajgarh, losing forty of his followers at the hands of Colonel Becher, who attacked him near Bagrod, but he crossed the Narbada River, and pushed on for Nagpur.

Learning that two forces under Hill and Roberts were advancing against him, he turned north-west, hoping to recross the Narbada and gain the territory of the Gaikwar of Baroda, and on the 19th November he reached Kargun, where he gathered up two guns, a couple of troops of cavalry and a company of infantry belonging to Holkar, and hurried on westward, crossing the Agra road at the moment when a convoy of stores was rumbling along.

Promptly looting the carts, cutting the telegraph wires, and carrying the native escort with him, he quickened his pace for the river, hotly pursued by Major Sutherland with some of the 92nd Highlanders and 4th Bombay Rifles, whom he had improvised into a camel corps, and who came up with the rebels near Rajpur.

Tantia's force was then between 2,000 and 3,000, the Major's about 200, but he charged up the road on to the guns under a hail of grape shot, captured them, and put the rest to flight, his men being so exhausted by the efforts they had made to come up with the enemy that Sutherland encamped on the battle ground, leaving Tantia to gain the broad river and cross in safety.

When Sutherland reached the bank next evening it was to catch a glimpse of the rebel camp out of reach beyond the waters just as the sun sank behind the horizon and the swift Indian night came down.

Tantia did not linger long, and before dawn he was far on his way towards Baroda, marching with that marvellous celerity so peculiar to the natives, unaware that Nemesis was on his heels in the shape of a flying column under Brigadier Parke, who had been sent after him by Michel.

When news of Tantia's course reached the general his forces were at Charwah, south of the Narbada, and crossing with his own column he marched on Mau, leaving the squadron of the l7th at Hoshangabad, and despatching Parke in hot haste with some Bombay troops, 50 of the 8th Hussars, some of the Southern Mahratta Horse under the gallant Kerr, of Kolapore fame, a camel corps of the 72nd Highlanders, Moore's Aden Horse, and some Gujerat Irregulars, who made one of the finest marches on record — 241 miles in nine days, the last twenty being through dense and difficult jungle.

Tantia was only 50 miles from Baroda when Parke surprised him on the 1st December at Chhota Udaipur, and fought him on broken ground among his own tents.

The rebels made a stand with 3,500 men, trying to turn our left flank where some of the Southern Mahratta Horse in blue tunics and scarlet turbans were posted, but Kerr, a well-known horseman — riding eight stone at that time — changed his front and led his sowars on in a dashing charge, killing 60 of the enemy, and crumpling them up. Bannerman, of the same corps, charged from our right flank, Parke's two Bombay 9-pounders played on Tantia's centre, and the affair ended in an universal pursuit towards the jungles of Banswara.

This happened on the 30th November; on the 22nd September the fourth squadron of the 17th with the headquarters, leaving a depot at Kirkee, had marched with D troop Royal Horse Artillery and some infantry for Mau, or, as we know it better, Mhow, under Colonel Benson, and proceeding from Mhow towards the Betwah river, Major Learmonth's squadron had joined them at Bhopal, and Sir William Gordons at Hoshangabad, where all three squadrons were again united on the 6th November, leaving only Major White's out in the cold.

While they were there news came that Tantia was moving on Indore, on the great trunk road, and they were ordered up to Mhow in haste, crossing the Narbada in boats, and accomplishing the fifty-two miles in twenty-six hours.

Tantia, in his jungle fastnesses, was cheered for the moment by intelligence that Man Singh (who afterwards betrayed him) and Prince Firuzshah were coming to his help, but he lay low for some time longer, while Benson watched for him at Rutlam, an old halting-place of the 17th in the Pindari war.

At last, at four o'clock in the afternoon of Christmas Day, 1858, Tantia, with his elephants and following, issued from the jungle near Partabgarh, forced his way past Major Rocke, who had not sufficient men to stay him, and headed away for Mandesar and -Zirapur, having practically broken through the cordon and got a fair start.

But Benson was equal to the occasion, and was after him like the wind; 210 men of the 17th, and 37 of the R.H.A. with a couple of guns; thirty-six miles the first day, twenty-six the second, and so on; bivouacking in the intense cold in sight of the rebel camp-fires, resuming the march to find them gone, until, on the 29th, pushing cautiously forward in the "darkest hour before dawn," they saw their prey at last, and drew up to wait for daylight.

There was still a two-mile trot before them, but when they eventually cleared a wooded lane the rebels were visible about 4,000 strong, arranged in order of battle on some rising ground, with a ravine and jungle behind them, at Zirapur.

Benson attacked in columns of divisions, and when Tantia's men opened fire he uncovered his own guns, which replied at 400 yards with grape and shell.

They soon broke and were driven into the jungle, the Lancers following them across the ravine; but the rebels fought well, and took up another position, which we attacked in line, with two guns in the centre, Sir William Gordon's squadron charging them a second time into the jungle and over the hollow.

A few more attempts were made to face us, but the lesson had been too sharp, and Tantia's force fled, still further demoralised and now struggling only for escape, with very little real fight left in it.

Captain Drury Lowe, who had joined the l7th in the Crimea, captured four of Tantia's elephants, and the regiment still possesses their ornaments as trophies of Zirapur.

The l7th and the R.H.A. had each a man wounded and 2 horses killed; the losses of the rebels do not seem to have been estimated, but they must have been severe, and moreover their troubles were not at an end. Next day Colonel Somerset arrived with 2 guns, Major White's squadron, and 150 Gordon Highlanders on fast Sandney camels. It is said that the Highlanders suffered severely from the gait of their steeds, and that, being in the condition of John Gilpin when "the snorting beast began to trot," it was with some difficulty that they were induced to remount after a halt, and they had to be constantly bribed by the promise of an action at the end of the next stage.

Benson's gun horses were done, so filling up the limbers and transferring the animals from the ammunition waggons to Benson's 9-pounders, Somerset started of in hot haste.

He did not allow the grass to grow under his feet, but raced along over vile, unmetalled tracks and ploughed fields at an average of forty miles a day; the Lancers lying down to snatch a brief sleep at their horses' heads, and then up again to escort the clattering guns at a trot, leaving baggage and camels in the rear until they came to a village which the guns negotiated alone, the Lancers passing it on either side in consequence of the narrowness of the road.

A body of the rebel Horse was drawn up beyond the village, and it advanced at a walk as if about to annihilate us; but Somerset ordered the battery forward at the gallop, and, dashing out of the village in gallant style, they unlimbered and let fly, the first ball unhorsing the rebel leader and checking the rest.

A handful of the Camel Corps was hurried up, but the finishing blow was dealt by the l7th, who came galloping into view, brought their lances down to the "engage," and charged with a yell that spread terror among the rebel cavalry.

The dark-skinned sowars did not wait, but turned and broke, and the next moment the 17th were into them, dealing death right and left, prodding and piercing the lives out of them for seven miles of scampering slaughter until they pulled in from absolute physical incapacity to keep it up any longer.

Our men had done 147 miles, the last seventy in forty-eight hours, with hardly any sleep, and practically destroyed Tantia's cavalry at the end of it, yet — and it strikes one as a most unaccountable omission — in the whole of Colonel Malleson's narrative of the pursuit the 17th is not once mentioned!

Cold and rain; halting only to feed the horses; their own rations taken anyhow, and none too often at that, the pursuit of Nana Sahib's agent must be ever regarded as a magnificent piece of work on the part of the men who planned it and the men who carried it out.

It lasted for nine months; it covered over 3,000 miles; it meant the passage of rivers, and the threading of trackless wilds; jungle, nullah, mountain pass; night marches through the terrible Malwa mud, and always a handful against a horde.

Had Tantia Topee possessed the old Mahratta courage and been able to infuse it into his men, even our British grit would not have saved us on occasion from the tremendous odds; but the man, while as wily as the serpent, was also as harmless as the dove when it came to a fight, and so he trailed along with his followers and his banners, and his patient elephants; beaten every time, yet still hoping against hope with true Asiatic pertinacity.

The horrors of his flight must have been great, and one is not surprised to read that " many a well-bred charger was left standing by the roadside, its back swarming with maggots and its hoofs worn to the sensible sole."

Yet, of Sir William Gordon's squadron, with the exception of those killed or wounded, every horse was returned fit for duty, thanks to their captain's unremitting attention.

Tantia never recovered his defeat at Barod on the 1st January, and, though many rebels still adhered to him, his numbers were fast diminishing.

Michel was on his heels once more with the whole of the l7th, marching at the rate of 256 miles in eight days; and while he trended northwards, Brigadier Smith was jostling Firuzshah towards the south.

Showers, with a light column from Agra, fell on Tantia and beat him again at Dewassa on the 16th; Holmes carved him up on the 21st at Sikur; Kao Sahib and Firuzshah left him to his fate, and were severely mauled in their turn; and it must have been pretty evident to Tantia Topee that the game was up at last.

Still he struggled gamely on, and plunged into the jungle with two pandits, a groom, two horses and a pony, meeting Rajah Man Singh, who upbraided him for leaving his force, to which Tantia replied that he was tired of running away, and would remain with him.

He made an attempt to communicate with Rao Sahib and Firuzshah, but they were in no condition to reopen the ball, Rao Sahib having indeed been badly beaten by Honnor on the 10th February at Kushani, and Firuzshah a great deal too anxious about his yellow skin to risk it any further.

It was a final effort of Brigadier Somerset's, with seven troops of the l7th immediately after Kushani, that seems to have led to Tantia's desertion of his weary followers, when the "pipeclay boys" ran them down after 230 miles in six days and a half, and 300 rebels surrendered.

After that came a spell of hiding in the Paron jungle, negotiations between Meade, of Meade's Horse, and Man Singh, who for certain considerations promised him betrayed the exact whereabouts of the hunted outlaw.

It is said that he was finally taken in the early morning of the 8th April, 1859, by a party of the 9th Bombay Native Infantry; but there is a tradition in the 17th that Sergeant " Nobby " Clark, while walking in the camp, was approached by some natives, who led him to a tamarind tree, under which he found Tantia sleeping, and that, consequently, the honour of his capture belongs to the regiment.

Be that as it may, one curious fact remains to be told: when Tantia — after the court martial had sentenced him to be hanged — was turned off a bullock hackery and died like a lamb, some of the officers cut locks of his white hair to send home, and, there not being enough to go round among the men, who also wished for mementoes, they paid Jack Porter, a regimental greyhead, at the rate of a pint a lock, until he was well nigh bald, so that any hirsute relics of Tantia Topee that may hereafter come into the market must be received with considerable suspicion!

At last, on the 13th May, to be absolutely precise, the "Death or Glory Boys" went into quarters at Morar, in Gwalior, with one squadron under Captain Taylor at Jhansi.

May is the hot month in India, and the sudden change from the fatigues of the campaign to comparative inaction in bad quarters proved terribly trying to officers and men.

There were many deaths, and the usual monotony of Indian service in peace time; with its early morning drills, its loafing through the burning hours with the thermometer 100° in the shade, and the church parade on Sunday, to which the band invariably played them to the tune of "Star of the Evening," and always brought them back to "Old Dog Tray."

On the 16th of June 1859 the penny a day good conduct pay is finally restored to Webster whilst he was at Morar in Gwailor. This was to be the Regimental home for the remainder of the year until they were ordered to Secunderabad in January of 1860. The Lancers began their journey on the 17th of January, the passage to Secunderabad proved something of a nightmare with disease being rife, the episode is known in the history of the regiment as the 'cholera march' during which they lost 38 men, including the butcher from the Crimea, Veigh. The 17th were mustered at Goomgaum on the 29th of February 1860 and Pattcherro on the 31st of March, finally arriving at Secunderabad in early May 1860.

The next few years at Secunderabad pass without comment in both the musters and regimental history, the only instances with relation to Webster being his increases in good conduct pay to 2 pence (16th of June 1861) and then 3 pence (16th of June 1863). After nearly 5 years at Secunderabad the Lancers are ordered back to England, and they leave the City on the 14th of December 1864, marching dismounted to Sholapore. From there they took the train to Poonah and then on to Bombay where they boarded the Agamemnon on the 21st of January 1865.

The previous 8 years of service in India had cost the unit 38 officers and 373 men from death and other causes, and they left 122 men in India who volunteered for other units. Whilst at sea the 4th good conduct badge was awarded to Private Webster on the 30th of January 1865.

The Lancers lost 4 men in the long sea voyage home, they eventually docked at Tilbury and on the 5th of May marched inland to their new station at Colchester, the regiment was 18 officers and 387 men strong at that point. The year at Colchester was quiet, with only an inspection by H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge in October of 1865. Between the 14th and 21st of March 1866 the Lancers move by troops to their new station at Aldershot, the journey taking 4 or 5 days per troop, so it would appear they rode the whole way.

Four months into the tour at Aldershot on the 24th of July, Private Webster is listed as being at Sandhurst, where he was employed as a Riding Instructor. The musters state there were 3 men in this small detachment with no mention of the duties of the men so employed. At this time Webster had served nearly 20 years in the colours, and no doubt the break from regimental life would have been welcome for him, so much so that he never returned to it.

Over the next few years the 17th Lancers moved on to Brighton (by October 1867), Woolwich, Edinburgh (July 1869) and were in Dublin by April of 1870, moving inland to Longford in early 1871. During this period Webster remained at Sandhurst, gaining his 5th good conduct badge and eventually a Long Service and Good Conduct medal after 21 years service, his third medal to join his Crimean and Indian Mutiny. There is a photo of Webster wearing three medals, taken around this period.

After serving 24 years to gain a pension, and at his own request, 906 Private James Webster is discharged from the 17th Lancers by a Regimental Board held at Longford on the 12th of June 1871. The board consisted of Major W.R. Nolan and Lieutenant's Alexander and Humble. It is very doubtful if Webster appeared in person at this board as the musters clearly state he was discharged at Sandhurst.

A month later, on the 12th of July 1871 he is formally discharged. His description at that time being fresh complexion, grey eyes, light brown hair, with a burn on his right arm, he was a forge man by trade and was 43 years and 5 months old at that time. The discharge documents state that he was listed in the Regimental Defaulters book on no less than 14 occasions and was tried by Court Martial once. He gave his intended place of residence at the Staff College, Sandhurst.

The 1881 Census has the following entry:

Dwelling: 4 Westcots Cottages

Census Place: Frimley, Surrey, England

Marr Age Sex Birthplace

James WEBSTER M 52 M Areton Nr Birmingham

Rel: Head

Occ: Groom & Vallet

Elizabeth WEBSTER M 46 F Butleigh Wootton, Somerset, England

Rel: Wife

Occ: Laundress

Lilly WEBSTER 10 F Camberley, Surrey, England

Rel: Daur

Occ: Scholar

James Webster was later a member of the Balaclava Commemoration Society, and signed the Loyal Address in 1887. He died aged 65 of "Disease of the Heart Valve" and is buried in Camberley. (photo of gravestone)

Sources

Musters & Paylists, PRO documents 12/ 1334-1356.

Regimental History: 'The Death or Glory Boys — The story of the 17th Lancers', D.H. Parry, 1899.

'Honour the Light Brigade' — Lummis & Wynn.

1881 Census Source: FHL Film 1341184 PRO Ref RG11 Piece 0783 Folio 82 Page 11.

Photo of Webster and gravestone courtesy of Mr E.J. Boys.

LIVES OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE
The E.J. Boys Archive

Added 27.8.16.

IN PROGRESS – NOT FOR PUBLICATION

(Click on image to enlarge)

"James Webster — 17th Light Dragoons (Lancers) — 1847 to 1871"

Tim Bender

Sources

For further information, or to express an interest in the project, please email the editors, Philip Boys & Roy Mills, via info@chargeofthelightbrigade.com

LIVES OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE The E.J. Boys Archive

Added 27.8.16.

IN PROGRESS – NOT FOR PUBLICATION

(Click on image to enlarge)

"James Webster — 17th Light Dragoons (Lancers) — 1847 to 1871"Tim Bender

Sources

For further information, or to express an interest in the project, please email the editors, Philip Boys & Roy Mills, via info@chargeofthelightbrigade.com

LIVES OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE
The E.J. Boys Archive

"James Webster — 17th Light Dragoons (Lancers) — 1847 to 1871"

Tim Bender