Soldier of the Queen, page 1
Soldier of the Queen
Soldier of the Queen
Book 1 in the Soldier of the Queen Series
By
Griff Hosker
Published by Sword Books Ltd 2022
Copyright ©Griff Hosker First Edition 2022
The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Dedicated to Terry Bermingham- a true artist. Thanks for the figures.
I
The Charge of the Light Brigade
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!” he said.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
II
“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Someone had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
III
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
IV
Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered.
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre stroke
Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
V
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell.
They that had fought so well
Came through the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
VI
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Prologue
Crimea 1854
Private Griffith Thomas, Taff to his mates, had never regretted joining the army for he loved the life and the camaraderie. He endured the brutal discipline of some of the non-commissioned officers who seemed to enjoy inflicting pain and he could cope with the incompetence of young officers who had only joined the cavalry so that they could ride to hounds as often as they liked. He had witnessed floggings but avoided being punished himself. He did not mind the food, growing up in a poor part of North Wales meant that the dull diet was nothing new to him. What he did not enjoy was the climate of this land to which he had been sent. The Crimea was far too hot and while he knew that he would need the warmth of his woollen tunic in winter even now, in autumn, it was still too hot. The flies and the disease were also a problem and no one enjoyed a good night of sleep under canvas.
His tent mate was Henry Ramage and he suffered just as much as Taff but the two of them found some solace in their shared misery. They also shared a love of horses. It was why they had both joined the Second North British Regiment of Dragoons. Neither had any idea why the regiment had been renamed. Everyone knew them as the Scots Greys, named for the white horses they rode and it was the name everyone used when speaking of them. Famous for their wild charge at Waterloo almost forty years earlier, they were big men riding huge horses; Henry and Taff had both joined up on the same day and for the same reason. They stood out amongst the rest of the enlisted men for most were from the northeast of England or Scotland. They seemed to speak a different language to Taff who was Welsh and Henry, who came from Manchester. They were fortunate, or perhaps, unfortunate in that the RSM, John Grieve, was also not from the far north. It was fortunate in that he liked them but that also made it unfortunate for he gave them no leeway whatsoever. He expected them to perform better than the rest of the squadron and he drove them both hard. That was life in the cavalry. The two men were part of a famous regiment but that was broken down into squadrons and then troops. Now that they were on active service it was also broken down into tentmates; messmates they called each other, like the sailors on the ships that had brought them halfway around the world to the Black Sea. There were two kinds of cavalry. There were the light cavalrymen, the lancers and the flamboyantly dressed hussars wearing braided pelisse and dolmans. They were the peacocks. Henry and Taff belonged to the heavies. The Scots Greys apart, the heavy cavalry wore metal helmets. They carried long straight swords capable of taking off an arm and they knew how to wield them. The regiments in the Crimea were the wild Inniskillings, fierce Irishmen known for their ability to fight and the Royals, the household cavalry. They were the ones who guarded Buckingham Palace and Windsor. They were the Queen’s guards. The two cavalry arms had little time for one another. The light cavalrymen were, in the opinion of the heavy cavalry, too showy and flamboyant. The heavy cavalry saw themselves as the descendants of the knights of old. Certainly, their new swords were longer, straighter and heavier than the flashy sabres of the light cavalry.
They had landed in the exotic land of the Crimea and then spent time helping their animals to recover from the long and gruelling sea voyage. If they thought they would be sent to battle immediately then they were wrong. The infantry had fought battles almost from the moment that they landed but the cavalry, that most valuable of arms, had merely been spectators. It seemed they were too valuable to waste. With the war almost over it seemed that the cavalry would have sailed halfway around the world and for nothing. Up till now the war for the light and heavy brigades of cavalry had been a series of patrols and vedette duty, but on that October morning with the army close to Sevastopol and the town of Balaklava, the bugler’s call was more urgent. The Russians were attacking.
Taff and Henry knew what to do and they prepared for war. Some of the equipment, like the sabretache, was archaic but the troopers understood the need for tradition. Taff carried his bearskin to the horse lines as donning the headgear would be the last thing he would do. He had much to do to ensure that Caesar was also ready for war. Taff and his horse, Caesar, were a good combination. The horse, named by the troop commander, Captain Pullein, was one of the larger horses in the regiment but Taff was a good rider and could handle the powerful beast. There was no reason why he should have been as the only soldiers in the family had joined the 24th Foot, but as well as having a natural affinity for horses Taff also had natural ability. Others had tried to ride Caesar but failed. Private Thomas made it look easy. He slipped the gnarled apple he had found into Caesar’s mouth as he saddled him.
“There might be a little action today, Caesar. Now remember that while you might be the best horse in the regiment, you needn’t show it. Just stay in line, see? No need to get ahead of the others.” The horse whinnied and Henry Ramage shook his head as he, too, prepared his horse. It was as though the two could talk to each other.
“How do you do that Taff?”
“Do what?”
“Talk to your horse and he answers you.”
Taff shrugged, “Don’t know. I just do.”
RSM Grieve’s voice boomed out, “Less chit chat, ladies. It looks like today we might actually get to see some action. We want to show the rest of the Heavy Brigade that we are the best regiment Lord Raglan has. He will be looking on from the heights. There are some Russian cavalry regiments forming up and they are threatening our guns so look lively eh?”
There were two valleys before them and the British High Command was on the heights overlooking the two valleys. They afforded a fine view and they could see the British and French redoubts that were there to discourage Russian attacks. They could see that the Russians had launched an early attack and were attempting to take the guns from the redoubts. The allies had been caught napping.
The two men did as they were ordered and finished preparing their mounts. The last thing that they donned was the bearskin they wore. Neither man was confident that the cumbersome headgear would stop a sabre cut but it might cushion the blow a little. They led their mounts to form their lines before the order was given to mount. The Heavy Brigade was made up of the elite horse regiments in the Crimea. The Light Brigade liked to think tha
It took time for the regiment to form up and by the time they reached the empty camp of the Light Brigade, the Russians had started their attack. This was a thinly defended section of the allied lines. There were Turkish regiments but only one British one, Highlanders. The gossip in the camp was that the Turks were somewhat unreliable and as the Russian cavalry formed up for what was clearly an attack every soldier in this sector knew that any battle would be hard-fought and the outcome in the balance.
Heavy Cavalry had a specific purpose. They were intended to charge and break up enemy formations and it was always the infantry who endured the worst of the fighting. They were the ones who stood in line and kept an enemy occupied. The cavalry always had the luxury of forming lines at their leisure. The 93rd Highlanders were in line with a Turkish Corps. As Taff looked to the northeast he saw the Light Brigade forming up close to the Sapoune Heights. Lord Raglan and his staff were on those heights. There was some comfort in that. Between them, the allies could muster a thousand cavalrymen although Taff estimated that they were facing two thousand Russians.
Henry chuckled, “I see Lord Cardigan is still absent.”
Taff nodded, “Aye, he likes to sleep aboard his yacht.” Taff did not blame the commander of the Light Brigade and given a choice he would have slept on a ship. There were no biting insects at sea.
Henry nodded, “Ey up, the Russkies are getting close.”
“Aye and the Turks look like they don’t like it.”
The Turkish regiments were edging back away from their positions. They were not fleeing but everyone, the Russians included could see that they had no appetite for a fight. The horsemen were close enough to hear Sir Colin Campbell’s reaction. Rather than going into a square, which would have been the normal manoeuvre in the face of three thousand horsemen, Sir Colin kept a two-deep line. “Men, remember there is no retreat from here. You must die where you stand.” The men cheered. The 93rd was a tough regiment of hard Scotsmen and retreat was not a word in their vocabulary. They would be isolated and in danger of being massacred as the Turkish Corps no longer provided protection for their flanks. There was just a thin red line to slow down the two thousand and odd cavalrymen who were forming up.
As cavalrymen, Taff and Henry knew the qualities of the men they faced. There were Cossacks, Uhlans and Hussars. This was their land and their terrain and they knew every fold and rock. It would not be easy for many of their enemies were born to the saddle. British guns supported the 93rd as well as some marine batteries on the heights but the Scottish soldiers were outnumbered by seven or eight to one as the Russian cavalry charged. The Turkish soldiers would not face so many horsemen and began to fall back even faster than before. Even if the Heavy Brigade joined in then they would still be severely outnumbered.
Henry leaned in to speak to Taff, “I wonder if Raglan will bring the Lights to support us?”
“Not sure it would make much difference, you know what they are like. Think they are riding to hounds.” Both men laughed.
They were close enough to hear the order from Sir Colin Campbell for the Highlanders to open fire. Neither trooper was an expert in the use of rifles but it seemed to them that the order had been given too early for not a single animal or Russian fell.
“Ey up, Taff, Lord Lucan himself is coming over to us. I think things are going to happen soon.”
Both men slid their sabres in and out of their scabbards for they did not want them to stick when the order was given to draw sabres. The 93rd fired a volley along with the cannons from the slopes and the marine batteries and this time men fell from horses. It seemed inconceivable to both horsemen that the 93rd would stand. Only a fool faced charging horsemen when not in a square but the Highlanders seemed determined. At the third volley, the Russian horsemen suddenly stopped and that too was inexplicable. If the Russians continued their charge they would simply sweep the brave red-coated Scotsmen away.
Both men were close enough to hear the conversation between the Lieutenant Colonel and the RSM, “Strange, RSM, why have they stopped?”
“You have me there, sir. Perhaps they think it is a trap what with us and the Light Brigade being so close.”
“Sergeant Major, you may not have noticed but there is a camp between us and the Russians and then a slope. I think this is what they call, in chess, a stalemate. We can’t move while they are there and they can’t advance while the two brigades threaten them,”
Just then a florid Lord Lucan rode up to General Scarlett and screamed, “Charge! I order you to charge! I want the Heavy Brigade to move! The honour of the cavalry is at stake.”
General Scarlett threw a contemptuous look at his superior officer. Even ordinary privates knew that you had to dress ranks and prepare properly for a charge. The Heavy Brigade would not move until their commander gave the order.
Lord Lucan turned to his trumpeter, Trumpet Major Joy, and shouted, “Sound the charge!” The strident notes rang out and not a man in the brigade moved for we all knew that cavalry needed to be organised into ranks to make a charge.
General Scarlett said, calmly, “The brigade will form ranks.”
The Scots Greys and the Inniskillings were on the right and, as the three squadrons moved forward to join the others, it became clear to both Taff and Henry that they would be engaged first. Moving troops into position was never quick and it had to be done right. The Royals and the Dragoon Guards had to manoeuvre around the Light Brigade camp and then form up to the left of the Scots Greys. General Scarlett and Lord Lucan were with the Greys and the Inniskillings. The order came to draw sabres and the collective hiss of two hundred basket-hilted swords being drawn sounded like an enormous snake. When General Scarlett was satisfied, he turned to Trumpet Major Monk and the order to charge was sounded. This time the whole brigade trotted forward as one. The gap between the Russians and the Heavy Brigade was so narrow that had they both charged at the same time then they would have met at a walk. Amazingly the Russians did not move. Taff marvelled that even though they were going into action against many times their number there was neither panic nor fear amongst his comrades. Still, for a few moments more, the Russians did not move. It was as though they could not believe that they were being attacked uphill by a force that was a fraction of their own. When the Russians’ trumpet did sound then the Heavy Brigade had managed to reach a trot.
The Inniskillings were wild warriors and to a man they gave their battle cry, ‘Faugh a Ballagh’, to clear the way. The Scots Greys did not have a battle cry as such but they began a wailing moan as they headed towards the Uhlans, Hussars and Cossacks. Taff was pleased to see following in the wake of the Greys was C Troop of the Royal Horse Artillery under the command of Captain Branding. They would have artillery support but he wondered if that would be enough, for now the Uhlans and Cossacks with their lances charged into the flank of the Greys. The charge came at more of a walk than a gallop but the slope helped them. Lieutenant Colonel Griffith was one of the first to be hit but neither Taff nor Henry had time to take that in for they were both fighting for their lives. Out of the corner of his eye, Taff saw General Scarlett struck on the helmet but he continued to fight the Russian horsemen who surrounded him.
