Of the two cavalry brigades, the Light was still fresh and untouched by the events of the day.  The Heavy Brigade, as we have seen, had already done splendid service in routing the Russian cavalry.  The turn of the Light Brigade had come, although, unhappily, the task entrusted to it was hopeless, foredoomed to failure from the first.

It stood close by, proudly impatient, its brigadier, Lord Cardigan, at its head.

To him the divisional general imparted Lord Raglan’s order.

“You are to advance, Lord Cardigan, along the valley, and attack the Russians at the far end,” was the order he gave.

“Certainly, sir,” replied Lord Cardigan, without hesitation.  “But allow me to point out to you that the Russians have a battery in the valley in our front, and batteries and riflemen on each flank.”

“I can’t help that,” said Lord Lucan; “Lord Raglan will have it so.  You have no choice but to obey.”

Lord Cardigan saluted with his sword; then, rising in his stirrups, he turned to his men, and cried aloud in a full, firm voice—­

“The brigade will advance!”—­to certain death, he might have added, for he knew it, although he never quailed.  But, settling himself in his saddle, as though starting on a promising run with hounds, and not on a journey from which there was no return, he said, with splendid resignation, as he prepared to lead the charge—­

“Here goes for the last of the Brudenells!"[2]

[Footnote 2:  The family name of the Earls of Cardigan was Brudenell.]

All this had passed in a few minutes, and then three lines of dauntless horsemen—­in the first line, Dragoons and Lancers; in the second, Hussars; in the third, Hussars and more Dragoons—­galloped down the north valley on their perilous and mistaken errand.

They were already going at full speed, when a single horseman, with uplifted arm and excited gesture, as though addressing the brigade, crossed their front.  It was Nolan, who thus seemed to be braving the anger of Lord Cardigan by interfering with the leadership of his men.

What brought Nolan there?  The inference is only fair and reasonable that at the very outset he had recognised the misinterpretation of Lord Raglan’s orders, and was seeking to change the direction of the charging horsemen, diverting them from the Russian battery towards the redoubts, their proper goal.

Fate decreed that this last chance of correcting the terrible error should be denied to the Light Brigade.  A Russian shell struck Nolan full in the chest, and “tore a way to his heart.”  By his untimely death the doom of the light cavalry was sealed.

As the devoted band galloped forward to destruction, all who observed them stood horror-stricken at the amazing folly of this mad, mistaken charge.

“Great heavens!” cried Lord Raglan.  “Why, they will be destroyed!  Go down, Calthorpe, and you, Burghersh, and find out who is responsible for this frightful mistake!”