Shabbiest of all Prizes
It was the Crimean War that saw the introduction of the Victoria Cross, a medal that to this day is the highest and most prestigious gallantry award of the British honours system.
Britain was at war. For the first time since the Battle of Waterloo almost 40 years earlier, British troops were fighting on European soil. In alliance with France and Sardinia, a British Expeditionary Force had been sent to the Crimean Peninsula to support Turkey in its struggle against the Russians. The objective was the capture of the Russian Black Sea Fleet’s main base: Sevastopol.
The allies began landing on the west coast of Crimea on 14 September 1854, and shortly afterwards began their march on Sevastopol. On 20 September, they came across a Russian army post on rising ground behind the River Alma. With little hesitation, the British and French commanders – General FitzRoy Somerset, 1st Baron Raglan, and Maréchal Armand-Jacques Leroy de Saint-Arnaud – chose to attack.
The Battle of the Alma was the first victory of the campaign and news reached Britain, officially, in The London Gazette and, unofficially, from The Times’ reporter William Russell. Regarded as the first ever war correspondent, Russell’s descriptions of the courage and determination of the ordinary rank and file contrasted sharply with official despatches which mentioned only senior officers, whether they had been engaged with the enemy or not.
The differences between Raglan’s accounts and those of William Russell were noted by one reader of The Times, identified merely as ‘J.C.’, in a letter published on 3 December 1854:
“While everyone is glowing with admiration of our noble Crimean Army, we seek in vain in the official dispatches with names of individuals in connection with specific deeds of daring, to become, as it were, household words among us. I venture, therefore, to suggest a partial remedy for the state of things – at any rate, until Lord Raglan shall add to his high reputation for courage by breaking through the red tape meshes of official routine and divining the place of honour in his dispatches to those who have best deserved it without regard to rank or precedent.”
Though the suggestion was not taken up, it indicates early sentiment taking shape across Britain for recognition for acts of outstanding courage.
As the campaign wore on, heroic actions by British troops were witnessed at the Battle of Balaclava, with its memorable charge of the Light Brigade, and the Battle of Inkerman, known as ‘The Soldiers’ Battle’. Both were followed by the horrors of the siege of Sevastopol. All the while, lack of recognition for courageous acts of individual soldiers
was becoming a matter of increasing national concern.
Aware of growing feelings of injustice sweeping the nation, and wishing to reward those who deserved special praise, the man who commanded the Guards Brigade in Crimea, former Coldstream Guards officer General Sir Henry Bentinck, decided he would create his own medal. He intended to issue the Bentinck Medal, in three separate strikings, for gallantry to selected members of the three Guards regiments. In total, 13 Bentinck Medals were awarded – seven to the Grenadier Guards and five to the Scots Fusilier Guards. The 13th went to Private John Alexander of the 90th Regiment who, later in the war, risked his own life helping to save that of an officer in the Scots Fusilier Guards.
Politicians were quick to pick up on the public mood. In a debate in the House of Commons on 19 December 1854, Captain G T Scobell proposed a new decoration, one that would take on board the growing clamour for a universal, fair, and equal means of recognition. Scobell asked:
“That a humble Address be presented to Her Majesty, praying that she would be graciously pleased to institute an ‘Order of Merit,’ to be bestowed upon persons serving in the Army or Navy for distinguished and prominent personal gallantry during the present war, and to which every grade and individual, from the highest to the lowest, in the United Services, may be admissible.”
Scobell went on to state that he: “was convinced that if some such an Order as that referred to in his Motion were immediately instituted it would be tantamount to reinforcing our army of the Crimea, so great would be its effect on the spirits and temper of the troops … At the present moment the country was engaged in a war which demanded the putting forth all its strength; but it was a question whether there were those incentives and inducements to the display of courage and endurance on the part of our soldiers and sailors which there ought to be. The soldiers of the Crimea were fighting side by side with the army of France, which possessed an Order which extended down to the meanest drummer-boy in the ranks. I think, therefore, that the present was a most appropriate juncture for the institution in this country of an Order similar in its character.”
The French decoration Scobell referred to was the Légion d’Honneur, which was open to all ranks and, in certain circumstances, could even be hereditary. Members of the Légion were also paid quite handsomely, up to as much as 5,000 francs. It attained such importance that almost everyone in France aspired to become a member of the Légion.
French privates and officers alike in the Crimea boasted of their award of the Légion d’Honneur, and it was undoubtedly an embarrassment to the British who had no comparable accolade. Another reader of The Times proposed to rectify this by introducing a British ‘Legion of Honour’:
“Such a decoration would be more highly prized than the medal given indiscriminately to all who ‘are present’ in a campaign and would also afford a means of rewarding the devotion of our medical officers and of the commissariat.”
Lord John Russell, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, responded by claiming that the whole question of the awarding of medals was under consideration by the Government. With that assurance, Scobell withdrew his motion.
■ Major General James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, who commanded the Light Brigade during the Crimean War, leading the charge on 25 October 1854. One of those who witnessed the British cavalry in action that day was Maréchal Pierre Bosquet, who stated: “C’est magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la guerre” – “It is magnificent, but it is not war”.
THE VICTORIA CROSS
With Lord Russell giving assurance on behalf of the Government, it now had to be carried through. As the Sovereign was the head of the armed forces, the subject of an award of such distinction as Scobell suggested had to be discussed with the Queen and her Consort. The idea was warmly received by Victoria and Albert, the latter taking a special interest in the medal.
However, it was not until 28 December 1855, that Queen Victoria and Prince Albert completed the proposed draft of the Royal Warrant that would lead to the creation of a new award to be known as the Victoria Cross – and that is exactly what it would be, the sovereign’s medal. It was not an Army or Navy cross of valour, nor was it the gift of politicians. It was Queen Victoria’s.
The new award was formally instituted on 29 January 1856, the warrant decreeing that it was:
‘…ordained that the Cross shall only be awarded to those officers or men that have served us in the presence of the enemy and shall have performed some signal act of valour or devotion to their country.’
Among other provisions of the award was the stipulation that it was for ‘all persons on a perfectly equal footing in relation to eligibility for the decoration.’ It was also declared that: ‘…neither rank, nor long service, nor wounds, nor any other circumstance or condition whatsoever, save the merit of conspicuous bravery, shall be held to establish a sufficient claim to the honour.’ It quickly became the most sought-after medal of all.
The Queen took a keen interest in every aspect of the Cross and personally supervised the design, the wording, the size, and the material of which it was made. On 5 January 1856, for example, a communication from Windsor Castle to then Secretary of State for War stated:
“The Queen returns the drawings for the ‘Victoria Cross’ [It is known that two sketches of two designs were submitted for Royal approval]. She has marked the one she approves of with an X; she thinks, however, that it might be a trifle smaller. The motto would be better ‘For Valour’ than ‘For the Brave’, as this would lead to the inference that only those who are deemed brave have got the Victoria Cross.”
A proof medal was sent to the Queen on 4 February 1856, eliciting her response:
“The Cross looks very well in form, but the metal is ugly. It is copper and not bronze and will look very heavy on a red coat with the Crimea ribbon. Bronze is, properly speaking, gun-metal; this has a rich colour and is very hard; copper would wear very ill and would soon look like an old penny. Lord Panmure should have one prepared in real bronze.”
Further samples were sent to the Queen until, on 3 March, the final design gained Royal approval. A month later, Charles Hancock, of London-based Hancocks & Co. received an order to cast the first 106 medals.
The Victoria Cross was intentionally simple, being made not from gold or silver, but from gunmetal. The origin of the metal used on the original crosses is uncertain and has been the subject of much speculation. There is, however, nothing to absolutely confirm that the statement in The Times on 2 March 1857, that the VCs were ‘formed from the cannon captured from the Russians’, was false or misleading.
As the Queen intended, the value of the medal lay not in its intrinsic worth but the deeds it represented. This was not understood by The Times, which was disparaging in its comments on the new decoration:
“Never did we see such a dull, heavy, tasteless affair. Much do we suspect that if it was on sale in any town in England at a penny-a-piece, hardly a dozen would be sold in a twelve-month. There is a cross, and a lion, and a scroll or two worked up into the most shapeless mass that the size admits of. Valour must, and doubtless will, be still its own reward in this country, for the Victoria Cross is the shabbiest of all prizes.”
And yet, in its prestige and high regard, it became very far from that.