Chapter XLVIII · ‘FOR VALOUR!’

A GLORIOUS summer morning, Friday, 26th June 1857. Thousands upon thousands of spectators have wended their way to Hyde Park to see her Majesty the Queen present to the sixty-two heroes of the navy and army the newly instituted reward of bravery—the Victoria Cross.

Manufactured of bronze, cast from cannon taken at Sebastopol, the intrinsic value is fourpence halfpenny; but millions of money could not buy the right to wear that little Maltese cross. Underneath the lion-surmounted crown are the words, ‘For Valour!’ and valour alone, valour on the battlefield, can win for the soldier or sailor the proudest decoration a British subject can wear.

Amongst the sixty-two heroes to be decorated that day were two men wearing the handsome blue and white of the ‘Death or Glory Boys.’ They were Cornet Blair and Sergeant-major Barrymore. The Gazette records the deeds by which they earned the cross as follows:

‘For distinguished bravery at Balaclava on 25th October 1854, in rescuing Captain Norreys under a heavy fire; and, while both wounded, at the risk of their own lives in gallantly bringing him out of danger.’

Never will Jack forget the roaring, cheering thousands the little band passed through as they marched from Portman Barracks to the Park. There were assembled representative regiments of the different branches which had served in the Crimea, while the ground was kept by infantry and cavalry of the Household Brigade.

Jack and his comrades, officers and privates all together, were drawn up in line; and, just before ten, her Majesty, dressed in a sort of uniform, and mounted on horseback, appeared on the scene.

Then the heroes were presented to her by name by the Secretary of State for War, and her Majesty, with a few kind words, pinned to each man’s breast the coveted cross. Among them was one old comrade of Jack’s, Parkes the giant trooper of the 4th Light Dragoons, who had been in prison at Voronesh with him.

The presentation over, the troops marched past. Lord Cardigan, on the horse he had ridden in the celebrated charge, led by at a gallop his regiment, the 11th Hussars, many a Balaclava man still serving with them; and the Inniskilling Dragoons were also on the ground.

When the Queen left the ground a mad rush was made by the crowd to shake hands with the newly decorated heroes; but Jack, with the recollection of their reception in Ireland fresh in his mind, had arranged with his uncle Colonel Harrington, who had his carriage on the ground, into which Jack and Barrymore got directly the Queen went, and were driven off to Regent’s Park Terrace, to the town house of Colonel Harrington.

There a number of our old friends were assembled. A dinner-party was being held in Jack’s honour that night, and Colonel Harrington had told Jack he could ask whoever he liked. Colonel Norreys and Captain Leland were there, and Jack determined to have his humbler friends Will Hodson and Jimmy Linham, who were honoured guests. Colonel Harrington had asked Colonel Leland and Jack’s old colonel, then a General, who came with Linham. These two lived together, Linham being ostensibly General Rawlence’s valet; in reality he was a companion, and the two were never happy out of each other’s sight. Jimmy’s wounds had healed, and he was cured except that he walked with a stiff leg.

During the afternoon a servant approached Jack and said a young gentleman and an old lady had called, and begged a minute’s interview. Jack immediately went to the drawing-room, where he saw a ruddy-looking, fair young man, whose empty sleeve buttoned to his coat showed he had only one arm. This young man coloured when he saw Jack, and began, ‘Pardon my liberty in calling; but being in London I couldn’t go without’——

‘Tom, Tom, dear old Tom Callon!’ cried Jack, seizing him by his one hand, ‘this is indeed the only thing wanting to complete my happiness.’

‘This is kind, sir, most kind,’ said Tom, ‘to greet me like this. Of course now you’re an officer and a V.C.’

‘Bosh and nonsense. My old comrades, who shared the dangers of the Crimea with me, I am and always shall be happy to see.’

The old lady here had to shed a few tears. ‘Is this the gentleman, Tom, as saved your life?’ she asked gently.

‘Yes, mother, this is the Jack—I mean Mr Blair—I’ve so often told you about.’

‘Indeed, sir,’ said the old lady dropping a curtsey, ‘he talks of you by the hour. If an old woman’s blessings and prayers are of any value you have mine, for you saved to me my son, my only boy, and now my sole support.”

‘Say no more, Mrs Callon. What I did for Tom he would have done for me. We all did our best in the war.’

‘It’s most kind of you to say so, sir, and coming from one who this very day I saw our blessed Queen, with her own hands, present a medal to, I take the liberty of saying it’s a great honour, and if you would shake hands with me’——

‘I’ll do more, Mrs Callon; I’ll kiss you,’ and Jack suited the action to the word, and then said, ‘You must see my mother and sisters, Mrs Callon, and have a cup of tea, while Tom and I have a talk.’

Over a glass of wine Tom related how he had his arm amputated at Scutari and been invalided home, and how, while he had been in hospital, Colonel Leland and his daughter had visited the place, and seeing his name and regiment above his bed had asked him if he knew Jack Blair. Then he had told his tale, and the colonel had taken an interest in him, and when he was well had given him a position as a sort of under-bailiff on his estate.

‘So you see, Jack,’ he concluded, ‘as you say I may still call you so, I’m far better off, and quite as happy as if I’d remained in the service, and also I am able to keep the old mother in comfort, which I could not otherwise have done.’

‘Tom, you’ll dine with me to-night,’ said Jack; and so Tom Callon was of the party.

When after dinner the ladies had retired—which Captain Leland seemed to be in no hurry that they should do, holding open the door for them, and his eyes following Miss Molly up the stair—the gentlemen, all soldiers, most of whom had ridden in that fatal and historic charge, settled down to their wine and cigars. The toast of the Queen was duly drunk, and then Sergeant Linham, who was a little flushed, rose to his feet. He looked round him and blew violently down his nose.

‘Gentlemen and comrades,’ he said, ‘there are some here who never served in the glorious old 17th, some who did not share the dangers of the charge at Balaclava; but these I am sure will be as ready to drink my toast as those who did. Gentlemen, I give you the gallant four hundred who gave their lives for their country on that day.’

The toast was drunk amidst dead silence, and then Linham, filling his glass again, continued, ‘Ha, hum! gentlemen, though most here are officers, you will grant a plain soldier a word. I want to give you the health of one whom I’m proud to call friend—Jack Blair. The Queen, God bless her, has honoured him to-day, has honoured me, has honoured the old “Death or Glory Boys,” has honoured us all in honouring him. She bestowed on him the greatest prize a soldier can win, the Victoria Cross, and I ask you—I ask you all—who is there more worthy to be honoured?’

There was no answer.

‘Ha, hum!’ continued the sergeant, ‘you don’t answer. There is no answer; you all agree. Our respected officer Colonel Norreys led us into the charge, but who brought us out if Jack didn’t? I give you his health, “Blair of Balaclava,” with three times three!’

The toast was enthusiastically drunk, and then Linham dashed his glass on the floor and smashed it.

‘No other toast shall ever be drunk out of that glass,’ he said proudly; ‘and, ha, hum! you toads—I mean gentlemen—if Jack Blair hasn’t got cause to be proud this day I want to know who has? I want to know?’

And no answer being vouchsafed, Jimmy Linham sat down, convinced that his question was unanswerable, as indeed it was.

THE END. Edinburgh: Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited.

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

throughly ill=> thoroughly ill {pg 126} absolutely surround=> absolutely surrounded {pg 228} north of Baktchi-Serai=> north of Baktschi-Serai {pg 356}