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 their rear. God help them they are lost! burst from the Allied generals and on-lookers: when, like a thunder-bolt, the 1st Royals and 4th and 5th Dragoon Guards, forming the British second line, broke with one terrible assault upon the foe, cutting through the line of rallying Russians as if it were pasteboard, and then, falling upon the flank of the Russian line, disordered by the terrible assault, put it to utter rout. A cheer burst from every lip, and, in the enthusiasm, officers and men on the heights took off their caps and shouted with delight. The loss to the British in this splendid charge was very trifling. All danger to the Allied position was now past. The enemy had made their rush, and failed. The British and French divisions, arriving from before Sebastopol, began to take up a position in the plain, and the Russians drawing back and concentrating their forces, relinquished all the captured redoubts save one. The fight seemed over; when an unlucky mistake, the precise origin of which is still shrouded in mystery, gave rise to a most brilliant but disastrous feat of arms.

The British cavalry had been advanced to the edge of the plain next the enemy, who were now slowly retiring up the narrow valley leading to the Yaeta Pass, from which they had debouched in the morning. In a gorge of this narrow valley, at about a mile and a half distant from the British horse, a battery of nine heavy Russian guns was posted, with infantry and a body of 2,000 cavalry in the rear. Captain Nolan, of the Light Brigade, one of the best swordsmen and cavalry tacticians in the army, now came galloping up with an order from the Commander-in-chief to Lord Lucan to advance with the light cavalry, and, if possible, prevent the enemy from carrying off the guns which they had captured in the redoubts. The moment the Russians beheld the squadrons advancing, they covered the slopes of the valley with Minié riflemen, and quickly planted two batteries on the heights, one on either side of the gorge. Formed in two lines, the British light cavalry advanced rapidly into the valley of death—not a man flinching, and Lord Cardigan leading on with a coolness and contempt of danger that was magnificent. When they arrived at about 1,200 yards from the enemy, thirty Russian cannons simultaneously opened fire upon them, knocking over men and horses in numbers, and wounded or riderless steeds were seen flying over the field. Galloping on, they advanced up the valley, through this terrific cross-fire, towards the battery directly in front. The first line is broken, it is joined by the second, they never halt or check their speed an instant; with diminished ranks, thinned by those thirty guns, which the Russians had laid with the most deadly accuracy, with a halo of flashing steel above their heads and with a cheer which was many a noble fellow's death-cry, they flew into the smoke of the batteries, but ere they were lost from view the plain was strewed with their bodies, and with the carcases of horses. Lord Cardigan was almost unhorsed by a 32-pounder exploding within a foot of his charger, and a shell bursting at his side, struck Captain Nolan in the breast, and with an involuntary shriek, the gallant officer fell dead from his saddle. The Russian gunners stood to their pieces till the dragoons were within ten yards of them, and were sabred to a man. Without drawing bridle, the British horse next charged the mass of cavalry in front of them, routed it, and pursued it pell-mell. Whilst the pursuit was at its height, suddenly the order was shouted "Wheel about!" The enemy, instead of being broken by their own men flying, formed up four