THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE.
This poem (written at Farringford, and
published in The Examiner, Dec. 9, 1854)
was written after reading the first report of
the Times correspondent, where only 607
sabres are mentioned as having taken part in
the charge (Oct. 25, 1854). Drayton's Agincourt
was not in my mind; my poem is
dactyllic, and founded on the phrase, “Some
one had blundered.”
At the request of Lady Franklin I distributed
copies among our soldiers in the
Crimea and the hospital at Scutari. The
charge lasted only twenty-five minutes. I
have heard that one of the men, with the
blood streaming from his leg, as he was riding
by his officer, said, “Those d—d heavies will
never chaff us again,” and fell down dead.
I.
Half a league, half a league,
Captain Nolan delivered
the order. He rode in his saddle
upright some moments after he was shot, his
sword-hand uplifted, and was the first man
killed. See Kinglake, vol. v. p. 220. Lord
Cardigan and the Light Brigade covered a
mile and a half, with Russian batteries on
either hand and in front of them, before they
encountered the enemy.
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!’ he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
II.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
III.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
IV.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
V.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
VI.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!