Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

Crimea 1854-56, 3 clasps, Alma, Balaklava, Sebastopol (Lt. R. A. Cooper. 93rd. Highrs.) contemporarily engraved naming, suspension enhanced with an additional swivel split ring between claw and suspension bar similar to those found on the Order of the Bath, minor edge bruising, very fine £1,200-£1,600

Richard Augustus Cooper was born in Kingstown, Ireland, on 25 January 1833, and was educated at Cheltenham College. He was commissioned Ensign in the 93rd Highlanders in 1853, was promoted Lieutenant the following year, and served with the Highlanders throughout the Crimean campaign. He was present at Balaklava on 25 October 1854, when the 93rd routed the Russian cavalry and won themselves the title of ‘The Thin Red Line’. The Times correspondent, William Howard Russell, who, standing on the hills above, could clearly see that nothing stood between the Russian cavalry and the defenceless British base but the ‘thin red streak tipped with a line of steel’ wrote of the 93rd:
‘With breathless suspense everyone awaits the bursting of the wave [of Russian Cavalry] upon the line of Gaelic rock, but ere they came within 200 yards another deadly volley flashes from the levelled rifle, and carries terror into the Russians. They wheel about, open files right and left, and fly back faster than they came. “Brave Highlanders! Well done!” shout the spectators.’

Cooper was subsequently present at the siege and fall of Sebastopol, and for his services was awarded the Crimea Medal with three clasps, the Ottoman Order of the Medjidieh 5th Class, and the Sardinian and Turkish Medals).

Proceeding to India, Cooper served with the Highlanders in India during the Great Sepoy Mutiny from 20 September 1857 to 20 August 1858. He was present at the storming of the Secunderabagh and was severely wounded in the head in a hand-to-hand fight, being the first officer to enter the breach of that place. The History of the Indian Mutiny, by Kaye and Malleson, gives further details:

‘The moment the breach in the Secunderabagh was considered practicable the bugle-sound gave the signal for assault. It was made by the 93rd Highlanders and the 4th Punjab Rifles, supported by the 53rd and a battalion of detachments. Springing to their feet, the Highlanders under Lieutenant-Colonel Ewart, and the Sikhs under Lieutenant Paul, dashed forward. “It was,” writes an eye-witness, “a glorious rush. On went, in generous rivalry, the turban of the Sikh and the dark plume of the Highlander. A native officer of the Sikhs, waving his talwar above his head dashed on full five yards in front of his men. The Highlanders, determined not to be left behind, strained nerve and limb in the race. Their officers led like gallant gentlemen, shaking their broadswords in the air. Two young ensigns springing over a low mud wall gave the colours of the regiment to the breeze. Paul with voice and accent urged on his wild followers.” All ran towards the hole – a small hole in a bricked-up doorway, about three feet square and about the same distance from the ground. A Sikh of the 4th Rifles reached it first, but he was shot dead as he jumped through. A similar fate befell a Highlander in his track.

A young officer of the 93rd, Richard Cooper by name, outstripping the majority of his comrades, was more fortunate. Flying, so to speak, through the hole, he landed unscathed. “His jump into it,” wrote the gallant Blunt, who witnessed it, “reminded me of the headlong leap which Harlequin in a pantomime makes through a shop window, and I thought at the time that if he was not rushing to certain death life would be very uncertain to those first making entrance by that ugly blind hole.”

Cooper was almost immediately followed by Colonel Ewart of the 93rd; Ewart by Captain John I. Lumsden, of the 30th Native Infantry, but attached, as interpreter to the 93rd Highlanders; Lumsden by three privates of that regiment, they again by eight or nine men, Sikhs of the 4th Panjab Rifles and Highlanders. Another officer, Captain Burroughs of the 93rd, also penetrated within the enclosure, but was almost immediately attacked and severely wounded. Altogether, besides the three officers, about a dozen men, Sikhs and Highlanders, had jumped within the enclosure, when, from some reason yet undiscovered, the supply from outside suddenly stopped.

The enclosure in which these fourteen men found themselves was a hundred and fifty yards square, with towers at the angles, and in the centre of the eastern face a building, consisting of a room opening out into a courtyard behind it, the grass growing all over the ground of the enclosure sufficiently high to conceal the enemy from view. There were, however, two pathways, the one to the left leading to the gate; the other, to the right, to the building in the centre of the eastern face. Losing not a moment after he had daringly jumped in, Cooper dashed along the path to the right, closely followed by Ewart, Lumsden, and about a dozen soldiers. No other officer accompanied them. Following the path, they reached an angle of the enclosure, turned it, and in three seconds more found themselves in front of the square building. There were rebels in front of it, rebels within it, rebels in the courtyard behind it. But on this occasion, as on so many others, boldness was prudence. The rebels outside, astonished by the sudden appearance of the three British officers and their following, ignorant of their numbers, and believing, it may be presumed, that the main entrance had been forced, ran hurriedly into the building, and attempted to make their way through a small door into the courtyard behind. The three officers and their men dashed after them, and a hand-to-hand encounter ensued.

Cooper, after greatly distinguishing himself and laying many low with a sword wielded by an arm of more than ordinary strength, was singled out by a native officer of the regiment of Lodiana, and received from him a slash across the forehead at the same moment that he laid his antagonist dead at his feet. Lumsden, emulating Cooper, was clearing a way for himself, when he was killed by a musket shot. Ewart, forcing his way into the courtyard, pushed forward with his following against the men at the other end of it. Some of these men had muskets, some swords and shields. They allowed Ewart to approach within ten yards of them, when those who had muskets fired a volley. Fortunately they fired high. One ball pierced Ewart’s bonnet. The few Highlanders and Sikhs then rushed at them, and a desperate hand-to-band encounter ensued. One tall rebel, armed with sword and shield, singled out Ewart for destruction, but that gallant officer was beforehand with him, and shot him, and five others who followed him, dead with his revolver. Still in the end numbers might have prevailed, when at the critical moment the bulk of the Brigade, Highlanders, the Sikhs, and the 53rd, poured in to the rescue. How these had forced their way remains now to be told. Impatient of the delay which would be caused by jumping singly through a narrow hole, the bulk of the storming party had turned to the left to force a way by the gate of the enclosure. This gate was locked and barred; and although the men used all their efforts, firing their pieces at the lock, some time elapsed before it gave way. But at last it yielded, and the 93rd and Sikhs dashed through it. Almost simultaneously the 53rd forced a barred window to the right of it and joined in the rush to the rescue of Ewart, of Cooper, still fighting in spite of his wound, and their comrades.’

Cooper was subsequently engaged in all the subsequent operations which led to the relief of the Residency, the subsequent relief of Cawnpore and defeat of the Gwalior Contingent with pursuit to Serai Ghat, the action of Khala Nuddee, the occupation of Furruckabad, the siege and capture of Lucknow, including the storming of La Martiniere, and minor operations. The following year he was involved in the pursuit of the rebels through Rohilcund and Oude, and the actions before and the fall of Bareilly from 5-9 May 1858 (Medal with clasps for the Relief of Lucknow and Lucknow). He transferred to the Scots Fusilier Guards as a Captain on 28 May 1858, and subsequently held the honorary rank of Colonel in the 4th Battalion, Royal Irish Regiment.

Twenty years later there was still dissatisfaction that Cooper had not been granted more recognition for his actions at the storming of the Secunderabagh, a day when 6 Victoria Crosses were awarded for the same action:
‘The splendid gallantry of Ewart, Cooper and Lumsden went unnoticed and unrewarded. I have been particular in describing in full detail the services of these two gallant officers, both belonging to the 93rd Highlanders, of Lumsden attached to the same regiment, and of Burroughs, not only because they and the ten or twelve men who followed them were the first to penetrate within the enclosure of the Secunderabagh, nor because their action had a direct effect on the ultimate issue, holding, as they did, the rebels in check while the main body of the storming party were engaged in endeavouring to force an entrance by the main gate, but because, whilst many officers were mentioned in the despatch 97, the splendid services of these two gallant men did not receive even a bare notice. It is fit that, even after the lapse of twenty years, history should atone, as far as atonement is possible, for official neglect.’ (ibid)

In the event, no official recognition was forthcoming, and Cooper died, unrewarded, in 1890.

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