The Story of a Blunder

THE REASON WHY (287 pp.)-Cec/7 Woodham-Smith-McGraw-Hill ($4).

The British Royal Navy is proud of its victories, but the British Army pays its deepest respects to forlorn hopes. The Crimean War of 1854 produced two real triumphs of British arms-the routing of the main body of Russian cavalry by 550 Highlanders (immortalized as "the thin red line"), and the brilliant and successful charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaclava. But these are as nothing in British eyes compared with the Charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava, in which some 700 horsemen rode unprotestingly into what every trooper knew was a trap. As Tennyson hymned it:

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.

Even in Tennyson's day, everyone knew that the order to charge had been a hideous mistake. But publicly, "the reason why" was long a mystery. Mrs. Cecil Woodham-Smith's book is the best untraveling of the old story yet.

Colonelcies by Purchase. To Author Woodham-Smith. who became interested in the subject when she was writing Florence Nightingale (TIME. Feb. 26, 1951), the Charge of the Light Brigade was not an isolated mistake. It was the spectacular culmination of a deplorable British conviction : that any rich aristocrat who wanted to become an officer should be able to buy a colonelcy in a crack regiment. The three aristocrats who may be called the villains of the Charge of the Light Brigade, and whose life stories Au thor Woodham-Smith traces in fascinating detail:

P: Lord Raglan, commander in chief in the Crimea at the age of 65, had never led troops into battle in his life. Lord Raglan's personal courage was first class. "After his right arm was amputated without an anesthetic on the field of Water loo, he called out. 'Here, don't take that arm away until I have taken the ring off the finger!' " Unfortunately, he "covered his [Crimean] staff with confusion by forgetting that the French were ... his allies and invariably talking of 'the French' when he meant 'the enemy.' " It was Lord Raglan who ordered the Charge of the Light Brigade. P:George Bingham, third Earl of Lucan. C. 0. of the cavalry division of which the Light Brigade was a part, who received and passed on Lord Raglan's order, had paid -L-25,000 to become colonel of the crack Lancers. He had spent half his life pouring money into his Lancers, whose superbly tailored uniforms won them the name "Bingham's Dandies"-and the other half squeezing the necessary money out of his Irish peasants. CJ James Brudenell. seventh Earl of Cardigan, who led the Charge of the Light Brigade, had paid more than -L-40.000 for command of the 9 Light Dragoons. Brave, handsome, bad-tempered and brainless. Lord Cardigan had a particular antipathy :his brother-in-law. Lord Lucan.

When the Crimean War began, all three peers were on the verge of retirement, but each postponed the day to travel to the Crimea. Lord Raglan was determined to be as much like the great Duke of Wellington as possible. Lord Lucan was determined to rule Lord Cardigan with an iron hand. Lord Cardigan was determined to take no orders from Lord Lucan. The mess, muddle and wintry cold of the Crimea were just what Lord Lucan relished: he lived "hard" and made sure that his unfortunate men did the same. Lord Car digan, however, lived on the Black Sea in his private yacht, and seldom came ashore for battle before 9:30 a.m.

The Scribbled Order. The British camp on the heights above Balaclava was supplied by the Woronzoff Road-a track connecting the heights with the British base in Balaclava and the fleet in the bay. Back of the Woronzoff Road was a valley. On either side and at its far end stood strong Russian batteries. This was bad enough, but when the Russians also attempted to drag some British naval guns away from their position overlooking the road, Lord Raglan became worried, because captured guns were proof of victory. Quickly the order was scribbled: "Lord Raglan wishes the cavalry to advance rapidly to the front-follow the enemy and try to prevent the enemy carrying away the guns."

When Lord Lucan received the order, he was dumfounded. Unlike Lord Raglan, who was perched on the heights, he could see nothing but the guns in the Russian batteries. "Attack what?" he asked the aide who brought the order. "What guns, sir?" To which the excited aide is said to have replied, sweeping his hand toward the end of the valley, "There, my lord, is. your enemy, there are your guns."

Insofar as he knew anything, Lord Lucan knew that someone had blundered, and he would have liked to discuss the matter with Lord Cardigan. But the two peers were not only rank amateurs in war; for 30 years they had scarcely exchanged a word. So now Lord Lucan coldly ordered his brother-in-law "to advance down the . . . Valley with the Light Brigade." To which Lord Cardigan replied equally coldly: "Certainly, sir; but allow me to point out . . . that the Russians have a battery ... on our front, and batteries and riflemen on both sides."

"I know it." said Lord Lucan. shrugging, "but Lord Raglan will have it. We have no choice but to obey."

"Well." said Lord Cardigan, wheeling his horse, "here goes the last of the Brudenells."

Into the Russian Guns. "The Brigade advanced with beautiful precision. Lord Cardigan riding alone at their head . . . [in] the gorgeous uniform of the 9 Hussars . . . Instead of wearing his gold-laced pelisse dangling from his shoulders, he had put it on as a coat, and his figure . . . was outlined in a blaze of gold."

Lord Cardigan had trotted a mere 50 yards when the Russian batteries opened fire. Simultaneously. Captain Nolan, the aide who had brought the fatal order, galloped frantically across the van of the advancing brigade, waving his sword. "Had he suddenly realized that his interpretation of the order had been wrong?" No one will ever know, for at that moment a Russian shell fragment tore open Captain Nolan's heart.

Lord Cardigan "was transported with fury. It was his impression that Nolan had been trying to take command of the Brigade," and throughout the remainder of the charge, Lord Cardigan thought about nothing but the punishment that he would order for this bumptious officer.

Behind his angry lordship, officers and troopers of the Light Brigade were being torn to shreds. "Death was coming fast, and the Light Brigade was meeting death in perfect order; as a man or horse dropped, the riders on each side . . . opened out; as soon as they had ridden clear, the ranks closed again." Words of command "rang out as on the parade ground: 'Close in to your center. Back the right flank! Keep up. Private Smith. Left squadron, keep back. Look to your dressing.' Until at last, as the ranks grew thinner and thinner, only one command was heard: 'Close in! Close in! Close in to the center! Close in! Close in!' " It was then that France's General Bosquet, watching in horror from the heights above, let fall his famed comment: "C'est magnifique, mats ce n'est pas la guerre" (It is magnificent, but it is not war).

Lord Cardigan never looked back. Picking a path between two Russian guns, he rode into the battery "steady as a church," and pushed straight on through a pall of smoke. Behind him, his saber-wielding troopers began to cut down the Russian gunners, but Lord Cardigan was too much of a peer to join in. It was "no part of a general's duty," he said later, "to fight the enemy among private soldiers." In a few moments, he was clear of the guns-and face-to-face, at a mere 20 yards, with the entire Russian cavalry.

"For a moment they stared at each other, the Russians utterly astonished by the sudden apparition of this solitary horseman, gorgeous and glittering with gold." Then, "one of the officers. Prince Radzivil, recognized Lord Cardigan-they had met in London at dinners and balls-and . . . detached a troop of Cossacks . . . to capture him alive." Lord Cardigan was in no mood to be mauled by private soldiers. Wheeling his horse, he galloped back the way he had come. Back at base, he "immediately broke into accusations of ... Nolan's insubordination."

"Say no more, my lord," he was told. "You have just ridden over Captain Nolan's dead body."

An Isolated Position. The valor of the Light Brigade went unnoticed by Lord Cardigan, who returned to his yacht, had a light supper and some champagne and went to bed. All he admitted later was "some apprehension that for a general his isolated position was unusual." Not once had he noticed the valley, strewn with dead and dying. Some 700 horsemen made the charge; only 195 came back.

Brave, stupid Lord Cardigan is remembered nowadays only by the button-up woolen sweater he wore in the Crimea.

Lord Raglan is enshrined in the "raglan" -a bulky overcoat with shoulders cut in a sporty, informal slope. As for Lord Lucan, only Irish tradition remembers him: it refers to him as "The Exterminator." Yet all three men would have one thing in common if they were alive today-a sense of horror at the reforms which they unwittingly helped to bring into the British

Army. "At the beginning of the campaign, the private soldier was regarded as a dangerous brute," but by the end, thanks largely to the terrible charge, "he was a hero. Army welfare and army education, army recreation, sports and physical training, the health services, all came into being as a result of the Crimea." Moreover, the practice of purchasing commissions was abolished. And that is why, for more reasons than were known to Tennyson, readers of this admirable history may say with him:

Honor the charge they made! Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred!

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