Saying goodbye to Project Genesis

Two years ago I embarked on Project Genesis.  It was my first professional job after qualifying as an archivist and I knew then how fortunate I was to find such a varied and interesting post when I was just starting out.  Over two years, my job would be to create collection level descriptions and authority records for as many of the Borthwick’s archives as I could, making these available on our new online catalogue.  Alongside this work I was expected to blog, tweet and facebook about my progress and the intriguing, exciting, or just plain unusual records I found along the way.

Two years on, our catalogue Borthcat is very much up and running.  It boasts 563 collection level descriptions, 914 authority records, 304 subject terms and 305 place names.  

You can find records of individuals and families, of great estates, large and small businesses, churches (of multiple denominations), societies, manors, hospitals and political and cultural groups and associations.  The scope of the full collection stretches out from right here at the University of York to North and South America, Australia and Japan, via continental Europe, South Africa, India, and Russia.  

Programme from a German POW camp in World War II (Alfred Peacock Archive)

As Project Archivist I have had access to all of the Borthwick’s fascinating archives, a dream come true for anyone with a love of history.  It was clear from the very beginning of the project that this was not straightforward retroconversion, a case of simply putting existing finding aids online.  To make sure the catalogue was as up to date, as complete and as user friendly as possible, I would need to become very familiar with the strongrooms!  I have counted thousands of boxes and rolls, checked hundreds of finding aids against existing holdings and delved into countless archives to find out more about their contents, check dates and even box list where necessary.  I’ve held the 17th century deeds to Clifford’s Tower in York, read a first hand account of the Charge of the Heavy Brigade at the 1854 Battle of Balaclava, and even unpacked a 19th century Quaker bonnet.

The deeds to Clifford's Tower, York (Munby & Scott Archive)

In turn writing the authority records (short histories of individuals, families and corporate bodies who are the creators or subjects of the records) has introduced me to a vast interconnected cast of people and organisations and uncovered more than a few surprising links.  From the Hickleton Paper’s Earl of Derby who donated the National Hockey League’s Stanley Cup to the unexpected appearance of Sarah Harriet Burney, sister of novelist Fanny Burney, as governess to Lady Houghton of the Milnes Coates Archive, my research has taken many unexpected turns.  Closer to home, writing the histories of parish churches, Methodist chapels and various businesses in York has helped me to see the city in a new light and I’ve become a dab hand at spotting the signs of the chapel-turned-restaurant and the remnants of long lost shops and factories.

I’ve also learned a great deal about AtoM, the archives management system developed by Artefactual which forms the basis of the catalogue.  I had no experience of AtoM when I started the project in 2015 and the first few months were something of a crash course as I learned how to create basic descriptions and authority records, how to input hierarchical descriptions and how to link descriptions and authority records to draw out connections between creators, subjects and the records themselves.  

Records of the Earls of Derby in the Hickleton Papers

AtoM is an open source system that can be shaped by the needs of its users and, as the catalogue developed, we were able to put our own stamp on Borthcat.  With the help and expertise of colleagues at the Borthwick, the Digital Library and IT, we’ve inserted parish record finding aids into their collection level descriptions, introduced an option in the ‘free search’ box to direct users to information about our probate records, simplified the user interface and made the entire catalogue searchable via the university library’s main ‘Yorsearch’ database.  I’ve had the opportunity to share my knowledge and experiences of AtoM with colleagues both at home and abroad, delivering papers at the Archives and Records Association Conference in London and the International Council on Archives Congress in Seoul, South Korea.

Alongside all of this, I have enthusiastically blogged, tweeted and facebooked, sharing photographs and stories from the archives on a regular basis and using my growing knowledge of our holdings to contribute to our Christmas social media campaigns.

A favourite find tweeted for Christmas 2016 (Sessions of York Archive)

I hope that the catalogue is a resource all our staff and visitors can use and enjoy and that you find its contents as informative, interesting and surprising as I have.  Project Genesis, as the name suggests, is really only the beginning for the Borthwick’s catalogue and while I will miss my role enormously I cannot wait to see where Borthcat goes next.

Sally-Anne Shearn

5 Things: The St Saviourgate Unitarian Chapel, York

Recently I added the archive of the Unitarian Chapel on St Saviourgate, York, to our online catalogue Borthcat. I knew next to nothing about the chapel or the archive when I began, not even that it was the oldest surviving non-conformist place of worship in the city, dating to 1693! I expected to find administrative and financial records, perhaps some publications and ephemera collected over the chapel's long history, but instead I found a wonderfully rich archive that reveals as much about the private lives of its congregation as it does the working life of the chapel.

The following are five items (out of hundreds) that I have selected to demonstrate the wealth of interesting and unusual items that can be found in the archives of local institutions.

1. Pardon of Christopher Brooke of Lincoln’s Inn, 1626.

BI, UCSS/5/19

One of the earliest items in the archive is this grant of pardon made by King Charles I to Christopher Brooke of Lincoln’s Inn, one of the London Inns of Court.  It is a grant of general pardon, covering everything from murder and insurrection to theft, and it has a large Royal Seal attached displaying the enthroned King on one side and the King on horseback on the other.  

BI, UCSS/5/19

 It’s not clear from the document itself why Brooke should need such a blanket exemption, or indeed who exactly Brooke is.  Speculation in the office that he was a seventeenth century spy sadly proved unfounded.  A more likely bet is that he was the son of Robert Brooke, a merchant and alderman of York in the late sixteenth century.  Christopher was his eldest son and was educated at Cambridge before becoming a bencher of Lincoln’s Inn in 1610.  In 1626 he returned to York to take up the post of Justice of the Council of the North and it is probable that he was granted the pardon to ensure his clean criminal record before taking public office, and not for any nefarious reasons.

2. An Account of Mr Driffield’s Household Furniture, 1791

This small book is from a cache of papers in the archive labelled ‘Driffield and Bielby’, and named for two local Unitarian mercantile families who entered into a business partnership in the late eighteenth century. Again it is unclear how their papers, which include business accounts, property papers and plans, came to be in the archive but this particular item offers a fascinating glimpse into the layout and contents of what must have been a comfortably situated eighteenth century house and shop.  Compiled by a Thomas Hardisty of Castlegate, York, the account most closely resembles the inventory often found with probate documents.  However a search of the probate indexes here at the Borthwick has found no Driffield wills registered around 1791 and certainly the Driffield most closely connected to St Saviourgate Chapel, merchant Robert Driffield of Mount House who has a handsome memorial on the chapel wall, did not die until 1816.

BI, UCSS/9

The account shows us that Mr Driffield had 14 rooms in his house, including his ‘shop’.  The rooms included six bedrooms, all with feather beds, hangings, dressing tables and looking glasses.  Some had additional chests of drawers, desks and washstands in mahogany and oak.  One had a ‘glass Fearne and glass’, another a ‘picture.’  Downstairs he had a dining room with ‘Scotch carpits’, a ‘Mahogany Tea Table’ and six chairs.  The room adjoining contained his ‘oak dining table’ and all his tableware.  The account lists cups, saucers, coffee mugs, three tea pots, ‘blue China plates’, decanters and glasses.  He had both a large and small kitchen filled with pots, pans, kettles and ‘toasting prickers’. Finally his parlour with its mahogany table, oak desk, chairs, stool, ‘Hair seat’ and tea chest, as well as a bird cage, ‘4 Pictures’ and ‘carpits.’  The total value came to £110, with a further £23 and 4 shillings added from the value of fixtures and fittings in his shop.

BI, UCSS/9

3. Laws of a Book Society established at York, 1795.

The archive includes another small cache of books and papers, this time belonging to the Wellbeloved family.  Their connection to the St Saviourgate Chapel is an obvious one, Charles Wellbeloved had come to York in 1792 as assistant to the chapel’s minister Newcome Cappe.  He succeeded to the ministry at Cappe’s death in 1800 and was a prominent York figure, active in reformist and antiquarian circles for the rest of his life.  

BI, UCSS/10/5

Just one of the many clubs and societies he played a part in was the York Book Society, established in 1794 as a circulating subscription library.   The society initially met at Reverend Wellbeloved’s home.  It was later reconstituted as the Subscription Library Society and from 1812 it had its own premises on the corner of Lendal and St Helen’s Square.   The early ‘Laws’ of the society kept by Wellbeloved show that subscription was one guinea a year, with an additional sixpence charged for missing the monthly society meeting.  Books were to be borrowed first by the member who suggested it, and then passed on to other members in order of seniority.  

The library at that time comprised 35 titles, although this had risen to 140 by 1799 and included such titles as the ‘Life of the Empress of Russia’, ‘Miss Williams’ Tour in Switzerland’ and ‘Bishop Watson’s Apology for the Bible.’

BI, UCSS/10/5

4. Journal of travels on the continent, 1819

Whilst these family papers showcase the involvement of Charles Wellbeloved in York civic life, the majority of items in this small cache are actually by his son, John, including lecture notes, poems and a journal detailing his all too short trip to Europe in the summer of 1819, when he was 21 years old.    

John Wellbeloved was the second son and the one expected to follow his father into the ministry.  He had studied divinity at Manchester College, winning the prize for Greek composition, and the poems he wrote there are a reminder that student life has not changed as much as we may think.  In his poem ‘In Praise of Coffee’ he writes of long hours studying and the reviving effects of his favourite drink,

When late at night we weary trudge,

In learning’s thorny way.

Our strength and spirits will revive,

And all our pains allay.

BI, UCSS/2/8

His father wished for him to become more fluent in German and so in July 1819 he left for the continent with a friend of his father’s, Dr John Kenrick.  In spite of the ‘villanous coffee’ he had to drink in Germany, his journal gives a lively account of the trip, describing the beauty of the countryside and addressing remarks to his family at home who would read it upon his return.  On one evening,

‘Being encouraged by the ladies I ventured to make an attempt at a Waltz with Miss Acherbach.  And now Anne [his younger sister], you must not think a Waltz in Germany the horrible thing which it is thought to be in England.  The ladies here stand up as naturally to a Waltz as they do in England to a country dance & nothing more is thought of it.’

John and Kenrick had planned to spend the winter in Göttingen but tragically it was not to be.  At the end of September, the pair were at Homburg, near Frankfurt, when John became ill with typhus.  He died within the fortnight and was buried in the cemetery of the Reformed Church there.  A college friend described him as ‘gifted by nature with superior talents’ whilst possessing ‘a thoroughly warm, benevolent and guileless heart.’  Years later, Kenrick wrote that his parents never recovered from his loss.

5.  'Reflections on the Public Ministry of Christ deduced from the Records of the Four Evangelists' by Catharine Cappe, 1821

BI, UCSS/3/6

This is the only book in the archive authored by Catharine Cappe alone, yet Catharine looms large in the history of St Saviourgate Chapel and indeed in the cause of Unitarianism and York life in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century.  The daughter of Jeremiah Harrison, the incumbent of Long Preston and Skipton, and later of Catterick, Catharine converted to Unitarianism as an adult.  In the eighteenth century Unitarianism was considered as a radical form of dissent from Anglican orthodoxy.  Catharine argued that philanthropy was a way of countering negative views of the movement and encouraged women to take an active role in public life, as she herself did following her move to York in 1782.  She set up a spinning school for girls with her friend, Mrs Gray, that same year, and went on to reorganise the city’s Grey Coat School for Girls from 1785.  In 1788 she set up a female Friendly Society to provide financial support to women in times of hardship.  

In 1788 she also became the second wife of Newcome Cappe, the minister of St Saviourgate between 1755 and 1800.   During their marriage Catharine assisted her husband with his ministry, transcribing his earlier religious writings and taking dictation of his new sermons.  After his death in 1800 she edited her husband’s work into a number of publications, including ‘Discourses chiefly on Devotional Subjects’ in 1805 and ‘Discourses Chiefly on Practical Subjects’ in 1815.  She was also an important benefactor to the Yorkshire Romantic poet Charlotte Richardson, arranging for her first book of verse to be published by subscription in 1806.

On her own account, Catharine published at least three books.  Her ‘Account of Two Charity Schools for the Education of Girls’ was printed in 1800, and her autobiography ‘Memoirs of the Life of Mrs Catherine Cappe’ and ‘Reflections on the Public Ministry of Christ deduced from the Records of the Four Evangelists’ were both published after her death in July 1821.

..............................................................

If you would like to read more about the St Saviourgate Chapel Archive, you can read the entry on our online catalogue HERE, or why not visit the chapel's own website.

Remembering Private Thomas John Morgan

Well I far from home but you are not out of my mind.  I hope to be home by Christmas, if not before then.

These words were written by 18 year old Private Thomas John Morgan to his 7 year old brother Llewellyn in May 1916.  Two months later, Thomas would be dead, one of 4,000 Welsh soldiers killed in Mametz Wood during the Battle of the Somme.  The handful of letters he wrote home to his family in Llanfairfechan in North Wales survive as part of the Alfred Peacock Archive here at the Borthwick Institute, along with many other letters, postcards, diaries and photographs that tell of the terrible human cost of the First World War.

Thomas was born in early 1898, the eldest son of a Merionethshire quarry man and his wife.  By 1911 the family had settled in the small Welsh town of Llanfairfechan, just along the coast from Bangor.  Thomas was one of four surviving children, he had two younger sisters, Gladys and Margaret Ann, and his youngest brother Hugh Llewellyn, known as Llewellyn.  

We know from Thomas’ surviving army service record that he worked as a baker before he enlisted.  We also know that he lied about his age in order to join up.  In this he was far from unique. It has been estimated that some quarter of a million British soldiers in the First World War were underage.  Before the Military Service Act of 1916, recruits were supposed to be aged between 18 and 38, but they could not be sent abroad until they were 19.  Thomas enlisted in November 1915 at the age of 17, giving his age as 19 years and 14 days so he would be immediately eligible to be posted overseas.  He also barely met the height threshold of 5 feet 3 inches, coming in at only half an inch taller.

The ruse worked and Thomas was accepted into the 16th Battalion of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers and posted to France in March 1916, at the age of 18.  His letters home from France provide glimpses of his personality.  Despite his claims that he is ‘not a letter writer at all’ he promises to write and send field postcards at ‘every opertunity [sic] I get’ and requests paper and envelopes from home and letters as often as they can send them.  ‘You should see the smile on the lads’ faces when they get a parcel,’ he writes in May 1916, ‘It is the only thing to look forward to here.’

Looking forward to leave and parcels from home in this letter from May 1916.

The occasional odd phrasing and misspellings in the letters are a reminder that English was unlikely to have been Thomas’ first language, but that Welsh speaking soldiers were expected to use it regardless so that their letters could be more easily censored.

His letters are full of local concerns.  He mentions local men he has seen at the Front, telling his mother he has seen ‘Lloyd’s brother’ in the camp at Boulogne, and has spoken with ‘Tom Parry’ and asks to be remembered to everyone at Llanfairfechan ‘who I know.’  In May 1916 he writes to thank his mother for sending her ‘bara brith’ (a Welsh tea loaf) which was ‘very good indeed’ and asks if his father knows anyone from Manod Road as he had met a soldier from there by the name of Alun Jones.  He also worries about his mother receiving enough of his army pay, ‘I know you cannot spare the money and I think I can do without it here.’

Born and raised in a still largely rural area of Wales, he is critical of the more wasteful practices he sees.  In June he complains of skirmishing exercises taking place ‘in the middle of corn and potato fields which are to be seen for miles.  Now it is all spoiled, it is a great shame I think.  If the war happened to be there I wouldn’t say nothing but only for training it's a great shame we all think.’  

The most touching letter of all is the one to his little brother Llewellyn, enclosed with a letter to his mother in May.  ‘I received your kind little letter quite safe,’ Thomas writes. ‘Thanks very much for the song you sent me I am very glad of it.  I am sending you a handichief [sic] and one for Gladys & one for Margaret Ann. You can pick for yourself which you like best,’ adding ‘I must say that you are getting on well at school to be able to write letters like you are.’

He ends one of his final letters home with the hope that he might soon get leave, finishing ‘Well good bye now and God bless you all & please don’t worry.’  

The Battle of Mametz Wood began on the 7th July and Thomas was reported missing on the 11th, later confirmed as killed in action.  By some administrative error, his mother Margaret received notice only that he had been ‘discharged to duty’ and wrote to his regiment on the 21st July seeking further information, ‘Could you please let me know where he is, as I am so anxious to hear from him & trust you make enquiries for me, as it is a long time since I had a field post card, trusting it will not be troubling you too much.’

The letter informing Thomas' mother that he has been killed in action.

The terrible news was sent on the 28th and Margaret spent the next four years desperately searching for further news of the circumstances of her son’s death and his burial place, to no avail.  An army chaplain, replying to one of her letters in September 1916, wrote that ‘the probability is that he was buried where he fell with many of his comrades from the Battalion.  We did not have the opportunity of burying the brave fellows who fell in Mametz Wood, as immediately after the battle we moved elsewhere.’

Thomas’ resting place was never found and today he is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial to the Missing of the Somme in France and at home in Llanfairfechan on the war memorial on Aber Road.  His letters, and those of his mother, are a testament to just one of the many individual and family tragedies that make up the First World War.  

On Armistice Day we remember them.

NB. This blog was written in 2016. In 2019 its author was able to locate the grave of Thomas Morgan's parents in a quiet corner of a cemetery in his home village of Llanfairfechan. Although Thomas' body was never brought home, his family had remembered him on the gravestone, which reads

'In loving memory of John Morgan, 3 Lewis Terrace, Llanfairfechan, who fell asleep September 29, 1929. Aged 63 years

Also Thomas John Morgan son of the above who was killed in action, France, July 11th 1916 aged 18 years. Rest in Peace

Also Margaret, wife of the above, who passed away August 17th 1945. Aged 76'

Cardigans, Cake...Career? My 8 weeks at the Borthwick Institute

I didn’t really know what to expect when I first started interning at the Borthwick; I had never visited the institute before, but as a history student I knew that spending eight weeks surrounded by old papers and documents, in one of the UK’s biggest and most well-respected archives, would be heaven.  My role for the past two months has been digitising the finding aids of several archives and putting them on the Borthcat website, making them more easily accessible so people know what archives the Borthwick has without having to call up and ask for a list.  I have also been contributing to Facebook and Twitter posts whenever I find something interesting, and I wrote a blog post about medicinal alcohol, a subject which I wanted to investigate after puzzling over a ‘wine and spirits book’ found in the York Medical Society catalogue.  I was given a lot of freedom to write about anything I thought was interesting, and I love the way that everyone working in accessions with me was encouraged to do personal research into what really interests them, as it leads to impassioned blogs and social media posts that are well-researched and great for drawing people in and inspiring them through our collection.  

Questionable medical advice in The Retreat Archive,

I have especially loved digitising the finding aid for the Miscellaneous Documents archive; the collection is so eclectic, and from such a diverse range of sources and time periods, that without being able to access the listing online people had no idea of the amazing and often surprising things hidden within the archive.  Items in MDs can range from an early 13^th century charter, to a 1930s album of Nestle-produced stamps, and from beautiful 18^th century family photographs to a euphemism-laden medical pamphlet for teenagers from the early 1900s entitled ‘The Dawn of Womanhood’ (side note: this is a very entertaining read).  

A letter from the poet W. B. Yeats in the MacCarthy Foulds Archive

The whole process of digitising the archive included linking accession records and writing authority records associated with the items, which involved a lot of research, and I also photographed many of them to use the most interesting on social media.  The social media I was particularly excited about, as I wanted to photograph the documents that would inspire people to take an interest in this seemingly random collection.  (There will be tweets about the MDs soon, by the way; look out for the hashtag #miscdocuments!). I feel like this is a significant mark I have been able to make on the Borthwick online catalogue, and it has been incredibly enjoyable being able to go through these items and research more about them.  I was, however, very worried about breaking something priceless and for the first few weeks found myself constantly asking ‘Are you sure I’m allowed to touch this?  Absolutely sure?! I might just leave it there…’

Commemorating the launch of the new National Health Service in this 1948 magazine from the
York County Hospital Archive

I have also learned so much about the process of archiving collections, various archival schools of thought and the importance of archives to academia as a whole.  My wonderful colleagues Sally and Lydia showed me how an archive goes from being deposited to being catalogued, the importance of organisation and thoroughness in all aspects of the archive, the correct way of handling documents and some very important research skills, as well as being encouraging and friendly throughout.  They’ve also given some very useful advice on how to work towards a career in archives.  The people who work at the Borthwick make it such a welcoming and exciting environment to work in; ask any Borthwickian what they have been doing that day, you are guaranteed to receive an interesting story about a document they found that morning, or a snippet of historical information they’ve been researching.  Some of the most interesting bits of history I’ve learned about during the internship have been completely unrelated to the documents I’ve been looking at, and have just been things stumbled upon whilst researching authority records or talking to others.  Did you know, for instance, that in late 16^th century East Sussex puritans often baptised their children with strange, devoutly Christian names, such as in the case of ‘If-Christ-had-not-died-for-thee-thou-hadst-been-damned Barebone’ and our own Archbishop of York ‘Accepted Frewen’?  Or that in the 16^th century it was assumed that if you were born through caesarean section you would have a lifelong fear of women?

One of the many hidden gems of the Miscellaneous Documents collection.

Interning here has made me want to rush out and remind all of my fellow history students at York about the amazing resource that we have, sitting in the library packed to the brim with incredible documents that you can look at for free.  I will definitely be using the archives for future history projects, or maybe just if I have a spare hour next time I’m in the library and I want to look at some old editions of the student newspaper.  I want to thank everyone at the Borthwick for making my internship so enjoyable and for teaching me so much, I’m going to miss working here and it has inspired me to consider a career in archives, as it seems like a job in which you can take immense personal pride in your achievements, is interesting and varied and you can always be intricately involved with the subject that you love, and surrounded by people who love it as much as you do.

Gaby Davies

University of York History undergraduate

'Scarlett's Three Hundred': The Charge of the Heavy Brigade at the Battle of Balaclava

With thanks to Major Graeme Green of the York Army Museum for his invaluable help and advice.

In 1860 Major Alexander Elliot exhibited a new painting in London.  Entitled ‘The Charge of the Heavy Brigade, Balaklava, Ukraine’, it commemorated a remarkable but often overlooked action of the Crimean War which saw the British heavy cavalry repel an unexpected attack by a mounted Russian force - despite charging uphill against superior numbers, and led by a commander nearing retirement who was short-sighted and who had seen no military action in his career until he reached the Crimea. The charge took place on 25 October 1854 during what came to be known as the Battle of Balaclava. The day would be remembered for a very different charge, that of the Light Brigade into the ‘valley of Death’ immortalised by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, just six weeks later.  However it was the Charge of the Heavy Brigade earlier in the day that would be praised by a French General at the time as a notable British victory and ‘the most glorious thing’ he ever saw.

'The Charge of the Heavy Brigade, Balaklava, Ukraine, 1854' by Alexander Elliot.
Reproduced with kind permission of the Defence Academy of the United Kingdom.

The painting, which today hangs in the Defence Academy of the United Kingdom, shows a view of the charge from the British side looking uphill towards the advancing Russian cavalry and the Causeway Heights above the Balaclava Plain.  Gun smoke hangs in the air above the mass of red and blue-grey uniforms and in the foreground horses and riders are hampered by the white tents of the Light Brigade camp and the trampled remains of an adjoining vineyard as they try to quickly turn to face the enemy.  The scene is chaotic but in the clear space just to the right of centre a few British officers are shown more clearly, leading a large group, their uniforms identifying them as the 5th Dragoon Guards entering the fray in support of the 2nd Dragoons, known as the Greys.  

Elliot’s work has attracted little notice in modern accounts of the Crimean War.  However a recently discovered letter in the Hickleton Papers, the archive of the Earls of Halifax held here at the Borthwick Institute, sheds new light not only on the history of the painting, but also on the actions and reputation of several of key players in that morning’s charge.

The letter was written in December 1860 by an unlikely investigator, William Montagu, 7th Duke of Manchester, and loses no time in setting out the issue at hand.  ‘On the 29th or 30th October 1860 I met Lord Lucan in Curzon Street and asked him if the picture which Major Al[ex] Elliott had painted of the Heavy Cavalry charge at Balaclava & had given to Sir James Y. Scarlett, was correct,’ the Duke wrote to his unknown correspondent.   

The opening of the letter between the Duke and his unknown correspondent.
Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2

Lord Lucan was George Bingham, 3rd Earl of Lucan and commander of the Cavalry Division at the Battle of Balaclava.  Lucan immediately denied the accuracy of the painting ‘in strong language’ and went on to give his account of events, which the Duke carefully records in his letter.  According to Lucan, on that morning the British cavalry (consisting of the Heavy Brigade and the Light Brigade) was positioned under the heights on the west of the Balaclava Plain.  Having been ordered to send help to the town of Balaclava Lucan dispatched most of the Heavy Brigade east - 2 squadrons each from the 1st, 2nd and 6th Dragoons and the 5th Dragoon Guards, with only the 2 squadrons of the 4th Dragoon Guards held back.   

It was ‘after they had started, when they had got to the other side of an Orchard’ that he received word that a large force of Russian Cavalry, 2000 strong, were descending the hill and would certainly intercept them.  He ‘gallopped off’ to warn the men, managing to stop some of the 2nd Dragoons (the Scots Greys) and the 6th Dragoons (the Inniskillings) and bring them into formation before ordering them to ‘charge the head of the Column of Russian Cavalry’ who were approaching downhill in two columns with wings.  As the British squadrons met the Russians at barely a trot the two wings closed in, trapping them until Lucan ordered the 4th Dragoon Guards to charge their flank, breaking through the enemy line.  It was, in Lucan’s opinion, a victory for the 4th Dragoon Guards, declaring to the Duke that the 5th Dragoon Guards ‘did nothing’ and that ‘the 4th won the battle.’  The Russians were put to flight and the Heavy Brigade, despite being outnumbered 5 to 1, were victorious.  The whole action took less than 10 minutes.

"No, they did nothing - the 4th won the battle" - Lord Lucan's judgement of the Charge of the Heavy Brigade.
Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2

Evidently not content with this single view of events however, the Duke then sought the opinion of the artist himself.  Major Alexander Elliot could claim equal authority as a witness, having been at the head of the charge as aide de camp to the commanding officer of the Heavy Brigade, the then 55 year old General James York Scarlett.  Elliot told the Duke that he ‘had heard that Lucan said it was in correct’ but defended his work, claiming to have consulted ‘several officers who had been present who said his sketches were quite correct’.   His own account of events, again recorded carefully by the Duke, offers yet more detail and a second eyewitness account of that morning.  

For Elliot the day began before first light when the cavalry had been sent to the foot of the Causeway Heights that divided the plains of Balaclava and Chernaya.  Reconnaissance had noted nothing beyond the higher ground, but already some amateur scouts had reported seeing Russian forces massing behind the Turkish redoubts on the Heights.  At 6am the Russians attacked and the Turks fled, ceding the advantageous higher ground to the enemy who soon opened fire on the British cavalry, forcing them to take cover and eventually to retreat towards the Light Brigade camp to the west, next to an abandoned vineyard.  It was as they reached the camp that Elliot states they were ordered to return to assist Sir Colin Campbell in his defence of Balaclava.

Cavalry camp near Balaclava, 1855.  Photograph taken in the Crimea by Roger Fenton.
Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division [LC-USZC4-9117 (color film copy transparency)]

It is at this point that Elliot’s account begins to differ from Lucan’s.  According to Lucan it was he who received reports that the Russians were approaching, causing him to gallop after the Heavy Brigade and pull back enough men to mount a charge.  In Lucan’s own words, General Scarlett ‘was at the head of the Column and did not see what was going on’ and only belatedly formed his squadrons into a second line.  Elliot however claimed that the Heavy Brigade had scarcely changed direction to return to Balaclava when he himself alerted Scarlett to the Russian Cavalry who had suddenly appeared over the hill to the North and were advancing towards them at a trot.  Scarlett doubted it at first ‘but with the glass saw that it was so’ and immediately turned the 2nd and 6th Dragoons to face the enemy.  

'They had scarcely changed their front when Elliott pointed our to Sir J. Scarlett that
Russian Cavalry was coming over the hill to the north.'
Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2

A first-hand account of the charge by Sergeant Major Henry Franks gives a slightly different description, claiming that the alert was given by a member of Lucan’s staff who called out to Scarlett to ‘look to your left!’ as the mass of Russian cavalry suddenly came into sight, just a few hundred yards away and mere moments after the Heavy Brigade had been ordered to return to support Campbell.  The result however was the same.  ‘As soon as General Scarlett saw the position’, Frank wrote, ‘he gave the order ‘Wheel into line, charge’ and like a true Briton, which he was, he placed himself in front of the Troops and led them.’  

This agrees with Elliot’s account, which claims that far from being unaware of what was going on, Scarlett rode out ahead of his rapidly manoeuvring line of men, Elliot at his side, ‘hollering to them to come on’ before he charged uphill towards the Russians who, ‘quite astonished’ according to a Lieutenant who was present, slowed to a walk and then a halt.  Another officer, Sergeant Major Gowing, wrote that ‘how ever that gallant officer [Scarlett] escaped was a miracle, for he led some thirty yards right into the jaws of death and came off without a scratch.’

The fighting was fierce, with Elliot and Scarlett quickly surrounded by the enemy and separated in the crowd.  So sudden was the attack, in fact, that soldiers fought partly amongst the tents and debris of the Light Brigade’s camp, causing Cornet Grey Neville’s horse to stumble over a picket rope and throw him to the ground where he was stabbed to death.  Elliot himself received a ‘bad cut across the back of the head’ and fourteen sabre wounds in total, and Scarlett was reported to have received five sabre cuts and a dented helmet.  

The fate of Cornet Grey Neville, son of Lord Braybrook, who was 'speared' on
the ground, after falling from his horse, and killed.
Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2

Crucially Elliot claims that it was the 5th Dragoon Guards, and not the 4th, that ‘came up the rear of the greys’ (the 2nd Dragoons) in support, attacking the flank of the Russian Cavalry, and it is this moment that he captures in his 1860 painting.  Moreover Elliot was keen to impress upon the Duke that it was Scarlett, not Lucan, who deserved credit for the successful charge, asserting positively ‘that Lucan was in the rear of the heavy Cavalry – and gave them no orders.  The whole thing was done by Scarlett’.

'Elliott asserts positively that Lucan was in the rear of the heavy Cavalry - and gave them no orders.
The whole thing was done by Scarlett.'
Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2

What can we make of these conflicting accounts?  Contemporary and modern interpretations of the Battle of Balaclava attribute the Heavy Brigade’s victory to Scarlett and it was Scarlett who was personally commended by the Commander of British forces in the Crimea, Lord Raglan, for the action.  Both Franks and Elliot place him at the front of the charge and even the Duke of Manchester seems sceptical of Lucan’s claim that Scarlett did not know what was going on, adding an exclamation mark in parentheses after his remark.

Lucan certainly had reason to want to present his role in the charge in a favourable light.  It was he who received the ambiguous order from Raglan later that day and instructed Lord Cardigan to lead the Light Brigade down the North Valley, leading to the most infamous blunder of the war.  Raglan personally blamed Lucan for the error, publicly declaring that Lucan had ‘lost the Light Brigade’ and censuring him in official dispatches for not exercising his discretion by questioning the command.  Lucan was subsequently recalled to England in March 1855 and despite his later exoneration his less than glorious part in the Battle of Balaclava must have rankled.

However it is also possible that the truth lies somewhere in between the two accounts.  That Lucan was indeed ‘at the rear’ of the Heavy Brigade and gave no orders directly to Scarlett, but still rallied men of the 2nd and 6th Dragoons to charge and brought the 4th Dragoon Guards in to attack the Russian flank – and that Scarlett also saw what was happening and personally led the main part of the brigade in a charge.  Modern historians agree that there was some discrepancy over who exactly had ordered the action.  Situated as they were, at the head and rear of 300 men on horseback, amongst tents and other debris and facing the sudden appearance of 2000 enemy cavalrymen, confusion over exactly what happened and when is perhaps understandable.  The 4th Dragoon Guards came in from the west to attack the right flank of the Russian cavalry, but the 5th Dragoon Guards supported the 2nd Dragoons, the Greys, coming up to attack the right flank of the Russians as it closed in behind them.  ‘In a moment the Greys were surrounded and hemmed completely in,’ Godman wrote, but ‘as soon as we saw it, the 5th advanced and in they charged.’

For his services that day General Scarlett was promoted to Major-General and knighted the following year.  He remained popular with the men under his command, a Light Brigade officer describing him as a ‘good kind old fellow…[the men] will follow him anywhere.’  He retired in 1870 and died in 1871 at the age of 72.  

Lieutenant General, the Honourable Sir James Yorke Scarlett, K.C.B. Photograph taken in the Crimea by Roger Fenton.
Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division [LC-USZC4-9303 (color film copy transparency)]

Elliot was recommended for his part in the Charge and was promoted to Brevet-Major in 1855, ending his career as a Major-General and Commander in Chief of the British forces in Scotland.  Lucan’s career quickly recovered from the ignominy of Balaclava.  He was promoted to Lieutenant General in 1858, General in 1865, and Field Marshal in 1887, dying in 1888 at the age of 88.

Whilst the disastrous Charge of the Light Brigade would go on to be memorialised in verse, music and film, the Charge of the Heavy Brigade has received far less notice and many are unaware that it too was commemorated in verse by Lord Tennyson, albeit some thirty years later.  Unfortunately for Lucan, it is with ‘Scarlett and Scarlett’s three hundred’ that the poem is concerned, drawing the charge to a triumphant close.

For our men gallopt up with a cheer and a shout,

And the foeman surged, and waver’d, and reel’d

Up the hill, up the hill, up the hill, out of the field,

And over the brow and away.

Glory to each and to all, and the charge that they made!

Glory to all the three hundred, and all the Brigade!

Bibliography

Roy Dutton, ‘Forgotten Heroes: The Charge of the Heavy Brigade’ (Wirral, 2008)

Sergt, Major Henry Franks, ‘Leaves from a Soldier’s Notebook’ (Doncaster, 2016)

Donald Richards, ‘Conflict in the Crimea: British Redcoats on Russian Soil’ (2006)

Philip Warner, ‘A Cavalryman in the Crimea: The Letters of Temple Godman, 5th Dragoon Guards’ (2009)