ABSTRACT
To the exasperation of his critics in England and the Crimea, there was no sign during the spring and summer of 1855 that the crescendo of popular enthusiasm for Cardigan was in any way likely to diminish. It was true that The Times complained of these outbursts of admiration, which it felt were reminiscent of the exhibition of the latest effigy or the actual clothes of a hanged murderer at Madame Tussaud’s waxworks. But the well-bred disdain of The Times was not commonly shared. As Disraeli laconically remarked, ‘The great hero of London at present is Lord Cardigan, who relates with sufficient modesty, but with ample details, the particulars of his fiery charge at Balaclava to willing audiences—as often as they like.’ 1
