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When the cavalry division after its manoeuvring of the morning was retiring by Lord Raglan's command along the South valley toward the foot of the upland, it was followed as closely as they dared by some Cossacks who busied themselves in spearing and capturing the unfortunate Turks flying from the ridge toward Kadikoei athwart the rear of the British squadrons.
Soon after this, Jack and his companions, who were watching the English cavalry, expecting to see some of them sent in pursuit of the Cossacks, greatly to their surprise observed the whole of them moving away to the northward over the ridge till they were lost to sight, summoned, apparently, by one of Lord Raglan's aides-de-camp, thus leaving Balaclava without any other defence than the Highlanders and the battery of field-guns.
We know as a fact that you belong to Lord Raglan's staff; how we know it you need not ask." The fact was, of course, made patent by the English commander-in-chief, in his repeated attempts to secure McKay's release and exchange. But the prisoner had been told nothing of these efforts, or of the peremptory refusal that had met Lord Raglan's demands.
Arrested for a time at Malta by an attack of fever, he joined our army before hostilities began, rode with Lord Raglan's staff at the Alma fight, likening the novel sensation to the excitement of fox-hunting; and accompanied the chief in his visit of tenderness to the wounded when the fight was over. Throughout the campaign the two were much together, as we shall notice more fully later on.
The book is, in fact, a history of Lord Raglan's share in the campaign; begun in 1856 at the request of Lady Raglan, the narrative ends when the "Caradoc" with the general's body on board steams out of the bay, "Farewell" flying at her masthead, the Russian batteries, with generous recognition, ceasing to fire till the ship was out of sight.
The impetuous aide-de-camp showed visible signs of impatience. While the general debated and discussed his orders, instead of executing them with instant, unquestioning despatch, a great opportunity was flitting quickly by. "Lord Raglan's orders are" Nolan spoke with an irritation that was disrespectful, almost insubordinate "his lordship's orders are that the cavalry should attack immediately."
But what I am quite sure of is that its perusal was a source of great comfort and encouragement to me in the midst of our own struggle; because it assured me, as I compared Raglan's experience with ours, that we had not gone so far astray in learning our lesson, and were not so completely on the dunces' bench, as I had been disposed to fear.
Lord Raglan saw the error and would have skilfully averted the impending evil. "That opening leaves the left of the Guards exposed," he said to Airey. "Tell Cathcart to fill it." "You are to move to the left and support the Guards," was the message conveyed to Cathcart, "but not to descend or leave the plateau. Those are Lord Raglan's orders."
The general idea was that they were a pair of valiant fellows; the one in the commercial and the other in the warlike way. Poor Raglan's heroisms and blunders were buried together before the day came when in the ordinary course of events he would have led his troops along the saluting line and have received the honours due to him from his Sovereign.
Its great peculiarity was that the Russians fought in solid column, and the allies in extended lines. After the day was won, Lord Raglan pressed Saint-Arnaud to the pursuit of the enemy; but the French general was weakened by illness, and his energies failed. Had Lord Raglan's counsels been followed, the future disasters of the allied armies might have been averted.
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