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HE twenty-fifth of the present month is the anniversary of the Charge of the Light Brigade—an event never to be mentioned by Englishmen without a thrill of pride. We have thought that, at such a time, an account of the famous exploit, told in the words of one who actually took part in it, would be of interest to our readers. The following is a description of the famous charge, by Private James Lamb, who only just missed winning the Victoria Cross on that eventful day.

On October 25, 1854, I was a trooper in the 13th Light Dragoons (now the 13th Hussars), and was in the foremost squadron that led the attack on the Russian guns on that never-to-be-forgotten morning. I was riding close to Captain Nolan when he was mortally wounded by one of the first shots from the enemy's guns. The gallant captain stuck to his saddle, and his horse galloped shoulder to shoulder with us down the valley. The next discharge from the Russian cannon tore wide gaps through our ranks, and many a trooper fell to rise no more. Owing to the dense smoke from the enemy's guns I lost sight of Captain Nolan, and did not afterwards see him alive.

We still kept on down the valley at a gallop, and a cross-fire from a Russian battery on our right opened a deadly fusilade upon us with canister and grape, causing great havoc amongst our horses and men, and mowing them down in heaps.

I myself was struck down and rendered insensible. When I recovered consciousness, the smoke was so thick that I was not able to see where I was, nor had I the faintest idea what had become of the Brigade. When at last I made out my position, I found I was among numbers of dead and wounded comrades. The scene I