Ballads of Brave Deeds By H. D. Rawnsley. With a Frontispiece and Preface by G. F. Watts |
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Harley's Eight
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 | Ballads of Brave Deeds |  |
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Harley's Eight
A BALLAD OF CHITRAL—April 16, 1895
The account of the daring sortie by which, on the eve of their being relieved by Colonel Kelly, the gallant defenders of the Chitral Fort blew up the enemy's mine, which would otherwise have been their ruin, will be found in “The Relief of Chitral,” by the Captains Younghusband, Chap. vi. p. 126.
Here's luck to the sixty Kashmir men,
And the forty Sikhs so tried and true,
Who smote the Chitralis there in their den,
Who fired the mine and saved us then
From Umra Khan and his warrior crew,
By the deed they wrought for the Red White and Blue.
And the forty Sikhs so tried and true,
Who smote the Chitralis there in their den,
Who fired the mine and saved us then
From Umra Khan and his warrior crew,
By the deed they wrought for the Red White and Blue.
One moon had waned slowly, another was full,
And, shut in the hornets' nest of harm,
We knew no rest and we felt no lull
In the passionate storming of Sher Afzul,
But we trusted that courage, with good right arm,
Could keep us still from the Pathan swarm.
And, shut in the hornets' nest of harm,
We knew no rest and we felt no lull
In the passionate storming of Sher Afzul,
But we trusted that courage, with good right arm,
Could keep us still from the Pathan swarm.
128
Bullets from “Sangars” high on the hill
Bullets from tree tops close in the grounds,
Bullets that plagued for all our skill
The road to the river we went to fill
Our buckets, red with the bearers' wounds,
And still the Sikh sentry paced his rounds.
Bullets from tree tops close in the grounds,
Bullets that plagued for all our skill
The road to the river we went to fill
Our buckets, red with the bearers' wounds,
And still the Sikh sentry paced his rounds.
But fire might win where the musket would fail,
And the mole creep thro' where assault was vain,
They would fling their fagot and trust to the gale,
Where bullets were harmless the reek might prevail,
But we drenched the tall tower with might and with main,
And quenched their flame-fury with earthen rain.
And the mole creep thro' where assault was vain,
They would fling their fagot and trust to the gale,
Where bullets were harmless the reek might prevail,
But we drenched the tall tower with might and with main,
And quenched their flame-fury with earthen rain.
And the mole in his burrow nearer came
While louder the tom-tom beat all day,
And fiercer they cursed by their hill-god's name,
And ever their loop-holes brake to flame,
But the Sikh's keen ear it can never stray,
And we heard the picks at their muffled play.
While louder the tom-tom beat all day,
And fiercer they cursed by their hill-god's name,
And ever their loop-holes brake to flame,
But the Sikh's keen ear it can never stray,
And we heard the picks at their muffled play.
Twelve feet from the Tower! no moment to lose!
No time for a counter with spade to spade,
But time to resolve on the death they would choose,
As the heroes slung round their powder and fuse
And sware they would face all the host's fusilade,
But would blow into sunlight the mine that was made.
No time for a counter with spade to spade,
129
As the heroes slung round their powder and fuse
And sware they would face all the host's fusilade,
But would blow into sunlight the mine that was made.
Then the gate of the fortress, eastwards set,
Silently opened, and forth they ran;
No shot was fired, but foes ne'er met
More fierce a thrust home from the bayonet
Than those who were dead ere the fight began,
The moles who were mining for Umra Khan.
Silently opened, and forth they ran;
No shot was fired, but foes ne'er met
More fierce a thrust home from the bayonet
Than those who were dead ere the fight began,
The moles who were mining for Umra Khan.
For out of the tunnel's mouth they poured,
No time to draw, and no time to cower
Ere death fell with dark; but the Pathan horde
Drew round in a ring; when suddenly roared
The ground into gaping, and veiled in a shower
Of dust and in smoke, our men rushed for the Tower.
No time to draw, and no time to cower
Ere death fell with dark; but the Pathan horde
Drew round in a ring; when suddenly roared
The ground into gaping, and veiled in a shower
Of dust and in smoke, our men rushed for the Tower.
Back from the water-way, back by the wall,
Back to the garden-house hurried the foe,
Sang the swift bullet, and hissed the ball,
And the fortress sent answer and cheer above all,
By the rift in the earth down beneath, we might know
They had dealt the besieger the deadliest blow.
Back to the garden-house hurried the foe,
Sang the swift bullet, and hissed the ball,
And the fortress sent answer and cheer above all,
130
They had dealt the besieger the deadliest blow.
Then the door with swift welcome wide open was flung,
But not for the hundred who saved us from fate:
There were those who should ne'er hear their praises sung,
Who felt not the shake of the earth that upsprung;
And still the beleaguered must think of the eight
Who came not with Harley back under the gate.
But not for the hundred who saved us from fate:
There were those who should ne'er hear their praises sung,
Who felt not the shake of the earth that upsprung;
And still the beleaguered must think of the eight
Who came not with Harley back under the gate.
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