A very fine Crimea War Thin Red Line and later Indian Mutiny Lucknow operations group awarded to Sergeant M. Findlay, 93rd Highlanders who having served in the Crimea including at Balaklava where a force of 500 men of the 93rd aided by a small force of 100 walking wounded and 40 detached Guardsman, supported by a substantial force of Turkish infantrymen, formed a line of fire against the Russian Cavalry in an action which came to be referred to as “The Thin Red Line”. Later serving in the Indian Mutiny he would be present during the operations at Lucknow where he would distinguish himself during the relief of the city, rescuing and attending to a wounded officer under a “hail of bullets and round shot” in action which the memoirs of William Forbes-Mitchell also of the 93rd later remarked “I have known men get the Victoria Cross for incurring far less danger than Sergeant Findlay did in exposing himself to bring Captain Alison under shelter. The bullets were literally flying around him like hail, several passed through is clothes and his feather bonnet was shot off his head. When he had finished putting on the bandages he coolly remarked ‘I must go out and get my bonnet for fear of sunstroke, so he went out for his hat, and before he got back scores of bullets were fired at him from the walls of the Shah Nujaf”. Dr. Menzies upon seeing the excellent job that Findlay had done in bandaging Alison assumed that the job had been done by a fellow doctor, and remarked that it had almost certainly saved his life. He there and then applied to Captain Dawson to get Findlay into the hospital as an extra assistant to the wounded.
Findlay was also an excellent marksman and later in the battle dropped a mounted rebel leader near the East Gate of the Padshahbagh – ‘ a remarkably good shot’ Forbes-Mitchell recalled. Findlay would receive no official recognition for his gallant deeds, a snub that might have well contributed towards his decisions to resign his Sergeant’s stripes for the rank of Private before the end of the Mutiny. He would be discharged time-expired in November 1863.
Group of 4: Crimea Medal 1854-1856, 3 Clasps: Alma, Balaklava, Sebastopol, contemporarily engraved naming; (SERJT. M. FINLAY. 93RD REGT.) Indian Mutiny Medal 1857-1859, 2 Clasps: Relief of Lucknow, Lucknow; (SERGT. MATH. FINDLAY. 93RD HIGHLANDERS). Turkish Crimea Medal 1855, British issue; contemporary engraved naming; (SERGT NO. 2586 SERJT M. FINLAY. 93d HIGHLANDERS).
Condition: The Mutiny Medal with tightened suspension claw and the last with slack suspension claw, contact marks, and edge bruising, otherwise generally good fine or better.
Provenance: Christies, 20 Nov 1999 lot 492; DNW, 16 Dec 2003, lot 698.
Matthew Findlay enlisted in the 93rd Highlanders in March 1851 and sailed with the Regiment for the Crimea in July 1854. Following participation in the “Thin Red Line” action at Balaklava, he ran into trouble with higher authority, being court-martialled and sentenced to confinement at camp, near Balaklava in April 1855. Then in July of the same year he was invalided to Scutari and thence to England.
Advanced to Corporal in the course of 1856, and to Sergeant just over two months later, Findlay attended the School of Musketry at Hythe prior to sailing with the Regiment for India in the summer of 1857. It was here, during the Relief of Lucknow operations that he particularly distinguished himself, as evidenced by memoirs of William Forbes-Mitchell also of the 93rd:
‘I must now leave for a little the general struggle, and turn to the actions of the individual men as they fell under my own observation – actions which neither appear in despatches nor in history. I will now relate a service rendered by Sergeant M.W. Findlay of my company, which was never noticed nor rewarded. Sergeant Findlay, let me state, merely considered that he had done his duty, but that is no reason why I should not mention his name
After Captain Peel’s were dragged into position, the Ninety-Third took up whatever shelter they could get on the right and left of the guns, and I, with several others, got behind the walls of an unroofed mud hut, through which we made loopholes on the side next the Shah Nujaf, an were thus able to keep up a destructive fire on the enemy. Let me add here that the surgeons of the force were overwhelmed with work, and attending to the wounded in the thick of fire. Some time after the attack had commenced we noticed Captain Alison and his horse in a heap together a few yards behind where we were in shelter. Sergeant Findlay rushed out, got the wounded officer clear of his dead horse under a perfect hail of bullets and round-shot, and carried him under shelter of the walls where we were lying. Hen then ran off in search of a surgeon to bandage his wounds, which were bleeding profusely, but the surgeons were all too busy, and Sir Colin was most strict on the point of wounds being attended to. Officers, no matter their rank, had no precedence over the rank and file in this respect. Sir Colin often expressed the opinion that an officer could be far more easily replaced that an well drilled Private. However, there was no surgeon available. So Sergeant Findlay took his own bandage – every soldier on going on active service is supplied with lint and a bandage to have them handy in case of wounds - set to work, staunched the bleeding, and bandaged up the wounds of Captain Alison in such a surgeon like manner that when Dr Menzies of the Ninety-Third at length came to see thought he had been attended by a doctor. When he did discover that it was Sergeant Findlay who had put on the bandages, he expressed his surprise, and said that in all probability this prompt action had saved Captain Alison’s life, who otherwise might have been weakened by the loss of blood beyond recover before a doctor could have attended to him. Dr. Menzies there and then applied to Captain Dawson to get Sergeant Findlay into the field hospital as an extra assistant to attend to the wounded. In closing this incident I may remark that I have known men get the Victoria Cross for incurring far less danger than Sergeant Findlay did in exposing himself to bring Captain Alison under shelter. The bullets were literally flying around him like hail, several passed through his clothes and his father bonnet was shot off his head. When he had finished putting on the bandages he coolly remarked. ‘I must go out and get my bonnet for fear of sunstroke, so he went for his hat, and before he got back scores of bullets were fired at him from the walls of the Shah Nujaf.’
Findlay received further recognition from Forbes-Mitchell for his work as a Hospital Sergeant and later, back on more regular duty, as a marksman, not least on the occasion when he dropped a mounted rebel leader near the East Gate of the Padshahbagh – ‘a remarkably good shot’. On another occasion, however, Findlay opted for a more humane course of action. Forbes-Mitchell takes up the story:
‘But to return to the Pandy whom I left lying half-covered with water on the further bank of the Gumti opposite the Shah Nujaf. This particular man was ever often to be known as the ‘Jackal’ because jackals and foxes have been known to sham dead and wait for a chance to scape, and so it was with Jack Pandy. After he had lain apparently dead for about an hour, some one noticed that he had gradually dragged himself out of the water, till all at once he sprang to his feet, and ran like a deer in the direction of the Padshahbagh. He was still quite within easy range, and several rifles were levelled at him, but Sergeant Findlay, who was on the rampart, and was himself one of the best shots of the company, called out ‘Don’t fire men, give the poor devil a chance’ instead of a volley of bullets, the men’s better feelings gained the day, and Jack Pandy was reprieved with a cheer to speed him on his way. As soon he heard it he realised his position, and like the Samaritan leper of old, he halted, turned round, and putting up both hands ‘with the palms together in front of his face, he salaamed profoundly, prostrating himself three times on the ground by way of thanks, and then walked slowly towards the Padsahbagh, while we on the ramparts waved our feather bonnets and clapped our hands to him in a token of good will, I have often wondered if that particular Pandy ever after fought the English or if he returned to his village to relate his exceptional experience of our clemency.’
As related by Forbes-Mitchell, Findlay received no official recognition for his gallant deeds, a snub that might well have contributed towards his decision to resign his Sergeant’s stripes for the rank of Private towards the end of the Mutiny. He was discharged at Sialkot, ‘time expired’ in November 1863.
