Young Knights of the Empire | Page 5

camp to form up on parade.
But the General--General Scarlett--did not lose his head or hesitate for a moment.
The enemy were on the left flank of the squadrons as they were moving out. He ordered
them to wheel into line to the left, and, without the usual first orders to "Trot" and then to
"Gallop," he directed his trumpeter to sound "Charge!" and he at once turned his horse
towards the enemy, and started, with his staff officer and orderly, at a gallop to lead the
attack.
"DO OR DIE."
The Brigade saw what was wanted. They did not wait to form into one line--that
operation would have taken time--but each squadron wheeled up, and, closing in towards
its neighbour, galloped forward to back up the General in the charge.
The Scots Greys, in red tunics and bearskins, mounted on their grey horses, were in the
front line with some of the Irish Inniskilling Dragoons, and close behind them came the
5th Dragoon Guards and the 1st Royal Dragoons, with their red tunics and shining
helmets.
There were not more than three hundred of them altogether, while the Russian column
amounted to some twelve thousand. 'It looked as if the British must be smashed up by
such overwhelming odds.
[Illustration: This sketch map stows the positions of the British and Russian Forces in the
charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaclava.]
But the General knew that he must do his best to save "the thin red line" from being
overridden, and the men knew that they had got the order to "charge," and it was their
business to carry out the order, and not to look at the danger in doing it. So they charged.
The Russians were not less astonished than the British had been; instead of surprising the
British, they were themselves surprised.

For a minute or two they hesitated. No officer gave any command, no one knew quite
what to do, and in another minute the bolt burst upon them.
General Scarlett and his staff came--bang, smash!--right through their front ranks,
followed immediately by the crashing weight of the Greys and the wildly cheering
Inniskillings.
The shock of this charge rolled the foremost ranks of the Russians down underfoot as it
ploughed its way into the centre of the column, and gave a sort of backward surge to the
whole mass-for the Russian force was simply a big, square mass of men and horses.
Our charge, being made by a very small body, only broke into the central part of the
Russian front, so the two flanks of their line wheeled forward like two arms to enfold it.
But just as they were in the act of doing so they were caught by our second line of Royal
Dragoons, 5th Dragoon Guards and Inniskillings; and were rolled up and ridden over in
an awful confusion.
These heavy blows seemed to send the great Russian mass staggering backwards, when at
this critical moment two more squadrons of Heavies, belonging to the 4th Dragoon
Guards, suddenly plunged into the right flank of the Russian column, and completed its
break-up.
It reeled again, and in a few minutes more was gradually melting and spreading over the
hills behind in hurried flight from the battlefield. And the thin red line was saved.
The whole fight had lasted only eight minutes, the British loss was fifty killed and
wounded, while the Russians lost about four hundred.
This battle, like Trafalgar and like many other British victories, showed that, with good,
plucky leaders, backed up by men _who can be trusted to obey their orders,_ we could
attack overwhelming forces against us and come out victorious every time.
Without discipline it could never have been done.
* * * * *
THE LOYALTY OF JACK TARS.
Sir Christopher Myngs was one of the tough sea-dogs of the British Navy in the old days.
He was killed in action at sea in 1666. He had been wounded by a bullet in the throat, but
he held the wound together with his fingers and went on fighting till a second shot struck
him, and he shortly afterwards died of his wounds. He was a splendid leader, brave and
strict, and beloved by his men.
His body was brought ashore to be buried in London, and at the funeral a party of sailors
came up to the carriage in which Sir W. Coventry sat, and the leader of them, with tears
in his eyes, asked him to beg of the King to give them an old ship which they might use

as a fire-ship, and with which they might sail into the middle of the enemy's fleet and set
fire to it.
They would, of course, all lose their lives in doing this, but they did not