Louis Creswicke

"To get myself in courage—crush out fears;
To strive with fate for something more than gold."

A year or two ago I received an envelope containing a lock of flame-red hair wrapped in a soiled linen rag. By this token I knew that old Sergeant Kemp—the name is a pseudonym, for reasons which will be seen—Sergeant Kemp, formerly of the Light Brigade, was dead. This knowledge unseals my lips, and permits me to divulge an extraordinary episode of the charge of Balaclava which was related to me by the veteran, and which, as far as I can judge, has entirely escaped the research of the romanticist and historian.

My original intention in going to see the old hero was to interview him and learn if he could throw any new light on the tragic and immemorial events of '54-5-6, through which, with the exception of a slight wound in the wrist, he had passed unscathed.

I propitiated him with gifts of tobacco, and, having found the "open sesame" to the cave of his reminiscences, visited him often. My object was to filch, surreptitiously as it were, the treasures I coveted, before their valuable crudity could suffer the unconscious adulteration to which such goods are liable at the hands of the professional story-monger. But I found, when the strings of his tongue were unloosed, he had very little more to relate about the events of the campaign than is already recorded. In fact, like many an actor in the drama of life, he really knew less about the general mise-en-scene than I, who had only reviewed it through the lorgnon of Tennyson and other contemporary writers. Seeing, however, that a shade of disappointment was cast by the fogginess of his disclosures, the old fellow one day abruptly asked if I could keep a secret were he to tell it me. I vowed my complete trustworthiness, but at the same time remonstrated that confidences so hampered would be of absolutely no use to the work I had on hand. He rose laboriously from his chair—lumbago had almost crippled him—and produced from a tin box a soiled rag containing the curl of red hair which is now in my possession.

"This 'air," he explained in mumbling tones, "was cut off the 'ead of Trooper Jones of ours—in times of war one 'asn't much truck with the barber," he parenthesised. "We called 'im 'Carrots,' as bein' most convenient and discriptive like. And that there bit of shirt belonged to my pal Jenkins, as good a chap as ever wore shako. It's the 'istory of 'em both as I've 'alf a mind to tell you, but you must be mum as old bones about it—at all events till this 'ere bloke's a-carried out feet foremost."

"And then?" I said, with unbecoming eagerness.

"Then you can jest do what ye darn please; the 'ole three of us 'll be orf dooty together."

So he related to me in a fragmentary manner, halting now and again and blowing clouds from his pipe as if to assist his ruminations, the strange history of Trooper Jones, almost word for word as I have set it down. He began:—

"It was in May that we got orders to embark.... I can remember turning out at four in the mornin' to march to the dockyard, and 'ow the green lanes was all a-sproutin' and a-shinin', and 'ow the sky was that pink and streaky, for all the world like a prime rasher. But that's neither 'ere nor there.... We 'ad been billeted in the villages nigh Portsmouth for several days, and my comrade, James Jenkins, and I 'ad been quartered at an inn kept by Jones' father and 'is sister—a strappin' girl, and as like her brother as one bullet's like another. They was twins, them two—with top-knots the colour o' carrots, mouths as wide as oyster-shells, allus grinnin', and a power of freckles that made their faces as yeller as speckled eggs. But Jenny Jones was a stunner, she was; she served at the bar, and gave the boys as good as they gave—'ot sauce for the cheeky and a clout o' the 'ead if need be when mi lady's blood was up. Woman-like, she was that contrary, wi' a tongue as sharp as a razor for some o' us, and all butter and honey and eyes like a sucking-calf whenever Jenkins so much as showed 'is nose. And 'e, 'e was that sweet on 'er as though she'd been a Wenus cast in sugar."

The old fellow blew a mighty whiff from his pipe, a whiff that was akin to a sigh, and for a few moments he became apparently fogged by the retrospective haze that surrounded him. He seemed disinclined to relate more, but as I remained silent he presently resumed:—

"I won't tell you of all the 'arrowin' sights of that there mornin', the women—mothers and wives and sweethearts—a-snivellin' and a-sobbin', the men lookin' all awry, as though they'd swallered a chemist shop and couldn't get the taste out o' their mouths. All this wi' shoutin' of orders, and noise of the 'orses bein' slung up the ship's side and let down the main 'atchway into the 'old, and the playin' of the band, and the cheerin' of the crowd in the dockyard, and the crews in the 'arbour, and the youngsters on the Victory—old fellers they must be now—a-roarin' fit to split 'emselves from the yards and riggin' so long as we 'ad ears to 'ear.

"I, bein' som'at of a bachelor by instink, 'ad no gal to wish me God-speed; but Jenkins, poor chap, was in the same boat. Jenny Jones 'ad not put 'erself about to see 'im nor 'er brother orf, and as they stood alongside one another looking that solemn and glum, I couldn't 'elp thinkin' o' the 'eartlessness of wenches in general and that there in pertikilar.

"But soon I thought no more on the subjec', for there was other things to mind. There was dinner, and givin' out of sea kit and gettin' our ration of grog—three parts water it was to one o' rum then, but it grew to 'alf a gill and a gill a day later on."

"About Jenkins?" I reminded, seeing that his brain reeled with the reminiscence of bygone potations.

"Oh, I didn't see 'im at that time. We went below to the stable; our beasts was stood wi' heels to the ship's sides and their sorry 'eads a-facin' of each other. They was awful bad, and mighty funky of the lurchin's of the ship. I found Jones down there—'e was a-bathin' of 'is 'orse's nose with water and vinegar, and a-cheerin' of 'im up to eat, which he wouldn't do for all the coaxin'. 'Carrots' spent all 'is spare time at that there game, givin' short answers and cursin' freely now and agin. But 'e did 'is work right enough—cleaned stalls, polished and burnished 'is saddle and accoutrements like the best of us—though whenever I looked at 'im there was some'at shifty in his eye and an odd turn o' the 'ead, as though 'e'd been a-sneakin' rum, or a-doin' somethin' as was contrary to regilations. And one day he turns on me savage like:—

"'What the —— are you lookin' at me for? Can't you mind your own bloomin' business,' sez 'e. So I ups and sez what came to me all of a flash:—

"'Yer no more Ben Jones than I be, and what's more——'

"Before I gets out another word 'e grips 'old of my hands and looks as though 'e was a-goin' down on 'is bended knees afore me.

"'For Gord's sake, Bill, don't blow on me. I've been a-dodgin' of you so careful, and you was the only one I was a-feared on. I've allus been civil to 'e, Bill—I'll give 'e my rations of grog, Bill—I'll do anythin' for ye so long as yer leaves me alone.'

"All this came a-rushin' from 'is mouth like a water-shoot in summer that 'as been froze for 'arf the year. Then I slaps my knee and bursts into a roar.

"'Good Gord, Jenny,' sez I, 'this 'ere is a go! It's a desp'rate game you're a-playin' of.'

"'D'ye think,' she sez, 'I'd play it if I weren't desp'rate, too? 'Ere was Jim and I just married, and I not on the "strength" and 'e a-goin' sails set for the grave. Oh! I seed it, sure as I stands 'ere, and I sez to mysel', wot's the fun of bein' twin with Ben if can't go like 'im, an' fight shoulder to shoulder with my Jim? Wot's the good of this 'ere life without 'im, a-fillin' and a-swillin' and nothin' more?—for that's all's left for wummin when their 'earts is cut in two.'

"I put up my 'and, for there was someone a-comin', and we went on a-cleanin' of the stalls; but d'rectly I was able I stalked Trooper Jones and got the rest o' the 'istory out o' 'im. Course, I asks after Ben, our real 'Carrots.' And she larfs with 'er mouth a-gape and 'er white strong teeth a-shinin'.

"'Ben?' she sez, 'O, 'e was that sick 'e couldn't say me nay; he was jist rolled up in bed like a worm, and fit to stay there a week or two. Nothing pisonous, mind you; but all's fair in love or war, and this 'ere game is both. So I got 'is kit and jist marched along at daybreak wi' the lot of you. You should 'a' seed Jim's face when 'e recognises me. He didn't guess whether 'e was glad nor glum, so he cussed like a good 'un, and that did dooty either way.'

"Young Jenny larfed till the tears came a-rollin' down 'er uniform.

"'Yer brother's in for a nasty business," sez I.

"'Not a bit of it. I've settled it. 'E'll dye 'is carrots and imigrate. Father'll see to 'im; 'e never 'ad the constitootion as was given to compensate me for being a——'

"'Hold,' sez I, 'the timbers 'ave ears. I am a-goin' to forget as there's any amphibus animals 'ereabouts; there's only troopers and 'osses as I knows of.'

"'Gord bless you, Bill! None of the other chaps 'ave twigged, and I've scarce throwed a word at Jim since we got afloat. But I looked at 'im and 'e at me, and folks with one 'eart between 'em don't need for words.'"

Here the narrator put a square thumb over the brim of his pipe and pressed the weed almost tenderly.

"In time," he went on, "I got quite proud o' young Jones, 'e was as smart a dragoon as any, an 'orsemaster every inch of 'im. Why, the way 'ed whisper into the ear of them beasts would make 'em meek were they contrary ever so....

"It took us over fifty days a-journeyin' past Malta and Constantinople and the Black Sea. I was landed fust with one or two others to report oursel's to Gen'ral the Earl of Lucan, who was a-commandin' of the Cavalry Division. Jones and Jenkins and the rest of our fellers came over fully accoutred in 'orse-boats, each at the 'ead of 'is charger. We soon 'ad work enough, I can tell you, a tent pitchin' and gettin' rations and makin' oursel's understood. The town was choke full o' ruffians, Turks, Jews, Armenians, Greeks, all a-jawing in diff'rent tongues and a quarrellin' like magpies over a bit of offal. 'Ere Jones was full o' spirits, a-larfin' and a-swearin' with the best of us. 'E 'ad a way about 'im as licked the sourest grumbler into shape. And the gals, such as they was, fancied 'is jovial mug and made eyes at 'im. It was a rum sight to watch the poor things a-wastin' ammunishun on one of their own sex. I mind me of a wivandeer of the Chasseurs D'Afrique, a smart young lass in red trousers and a dark tunic, with 'er plumed 'at all cockeye on 'er head, and 'er legs astride the saddle—she was quite took up with Jones. And afterwards the Bulgarian gals was nuts on 'im, too. Jones would give us real pantomimes a-snatchin' o' kisses from one or another of 'em when they came to fill their wessels at the well.

"'E was good at work or play was 'Carrots.' Right well 'e came out of it when we 'ad to turn our 'ands to odd jobs, such as mowin' and reapin' and cookin', cos 'is fingers weren't thumbs like ours war. And at skirmishin' and outpost drill, and a-chargin' in line and by squadrons, he was real smart too; 'e took to them manoeuvres as a duck takes to water, with niver a growl nor a grumble, 'owever 'ard the work.

"But a bad day it was for 'im when the cholera broke up our camp at Devno; it takes the strong 'uns fust, and then swoops down promiscus-like. Poor Jenkins got bad just as we was a-tired of buryin' an' 'earin' nothin' but the 'Dead March,' which made the sick all of a tremble to know which would be the next to be took. 'E was down with it the wery day as we got orders to start for the Crimea. We was to march the next mornin' for Varna, and most of the night was spent in packin' up.

"Jones, 'e comes to me like one stark mad, beatin' of 'is breast and a-cursin' at the back o' 'is teeth.

"'Jim's that bad,' says 'e, 'they don' know as whether there's any 'ope for 'im.'

"'They're preparin' of arabas to carry the sick,' sez I, to console 'im.

"'Gord, Gord,' 'e sez, 'that's jest it. All the sick as might get well will go, and the others—they'll be left be'ind afore the breath's out of 'em. I 'eard someone a-sayin' there was no use in movin' of 'em as was as good as dead.'

"And sure enough next mornin' I larnt that Jones was right. Revelly sounded at three, and by six every man was on parade. Arabas, drawn by bufferloes, was packed wi' sick, the dyin' was left in 'ospital with orderleys and a sawbones to keep 'em company. They must ha' 'eard us marchin', marchin' away—them poor, animated corpses, with jest the regilation number o' gasps between 'em and eternity—but most on us was too busy to think on abstrac' things at sich a time."

"How about Jenkins?" I asked, seeing that my friend's mind had gone wool-gathering over the whole panorama of the war.

"Oh, 'e was safe enough; 'e took a turn for the better at the last moment, and they moved 'im into the arabas along with the rest, but Jones looked 'iself badly enough. 'E comes to me the nex' night and brings this 'ere lock of 'air in 'is 'and.

"'If I'm took,' sez 'e, 'give it to Jim and tell 'im to wear it on 'is 'eart for the love of "Carrots" as was.'

"I put the 'air in my 'aversack careless-like, and gave 'im a drink o' rum neat, which was better nor talk. It kippers the cholera out o' one fine.

"'The likes of you and me is always spared,' sez I, a-larfin'; 'rubbish ain't marketable aloft.'

"And spared 'e was, and would 'ave been to this day, along with this 'ere lumber, but for 'is cussed fool'ardiness....

"Things was lively for a bit afore and after the victory o' the Alma, the pertikilars of which I have reported to you. I scarce clapped eyes on Jones or Jenkins, but they was engaged in skirmishin' along with the rest of us.

"On the day that Captain Nolan came a-gallopin' in with that there momentous paper, Jones sez to me, 'There's somethin' up,' and we saw Lord Lucan and Lord Cardigan a-lookin' at them guns. The enemy had ranged 'em across the walley about a mile and a-'arf orf, with a field batt'ry on the 'ill on our left front, and another between the redoubts and the walley on our right. Captain Nolan was a-pointin', and the generals was a-confabulatin'. Then we was told to mount and move orf at a trot. The first thing that 'appens was poor Captain Nolan a-gettin' shot almost afore we broke into a gallop. 'E was struck by a bit o' shell, and d'rectly after the guns began a-playin' on us all, and the air was 'eavy with groans and curses and screams of men and 'orses a-fallin' to right and left like nine-pins. Jenkins and Jones was with me on the right of the line, Jenkins as blue as a corpse, and Jones flushed and savage-like, avoidin' as best 'e could the 'orses without riders as still kept pace with us, and the press of men and beasts a-jostlin' to close to the centre. We couldn't see where we was a-goin' cos o' the power 'o smoke, nor 'ear 'cos o' the boomin' and bustin' and bumpin' round the 'ill-side. Then bang I goes. A shell 'ad caught my poor 'orse in the shoulder, and over 'e rolls and I under 'im, fortunately covered from the explodin' pieces as would 'ave settled me 'ad they 'ave reached me. Jest as I was beginnin' to wonder whether I was really breathin', over my 'ead comes the second line a-gallopin' for all they was worth. 'Twas a near squeak that, and I was mighty 'mazed to find that never a 'oof 'ad come nigh so much as a finger o' me. At last I got clear of my poor beast—'e was only a dead 'ulk, all 'is fore quarters bein' blown away—and tried to stand. It was precious difficult, an' as I was limpin' in an 'op-and-go fashun, I chanced on Jenkins who 'ad likewise been bowled over, an' was lyin' under 'is 'orse in a pool o' blood. Jones was a-kneelin' by 'is side with 'is left arm clean ripped up. I suspects a splinter from the same shell as caught Jenkins 'ad struck 'im.

"''Elp me to draw 'im out,' sez 'Carrots,' with never a quiver o' the eye.

"I lent a 'and, and Jones with 'is only arm was a-strugglin' to move 'im, but we soon saw we was only causin' of the poor chap unnecessary aginy.

"'It's all up wi' me,' sez Jenkins in a failin' voice. 'Clear out sharp, they're a-firm' from the flank o' the batt'ry at them as is dismounted.'

"'Take care of Jenny,' sez 'e with 'is last breath, and wrings my 'and.

"Then Jones begins a-kneelin' alongside of 'im a-callin' 'im by every sweet name as could be thought on. Oh! it was a pitiful sight to see a big dragoon a-huggin' of another, a-kissin' of 'is lips and 'is 'ands, and 'im stone dead, a-smilin' up at the sky.

"This 'ere 'appened in a minite like, for d'rectly afterwards I sees Jones leap up and catch a 'orse wot 'ad lost 'is rider and mount 'im. 'E just looks once at 'is poor comrade, and out at the 'ills and the guns a-vomitin' smoke. Then 'e starts off—not a-ridin' like woman, nor man, nor 'ero, but a-gallopin' like the wery Devil 'isself, straight into the jaws of 'ell."

There was a pause, during which the old trooper knocked out the ashes of his pipe against the arm of his chair.

"That was the last wot I sees of 'Carrots,'" he said, with a dry smile.