66 Go to! I will tell you no more; You know how the battle was lost. And, comrades, I'll give you a toast. "A curse on those British assassins A curse on all Russians - I hate them — THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE AT BALAKLAVA. Alfred, Lord Tennyson. HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade! Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!" Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die : Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right 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. Flash'd all their sabres bare, 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, Cannon to right of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; They that had fought so well Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? HERVÉ RIEL. Robert Browning. On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, woe to France! Did the English fight the French, And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, Came crowding ship on ship to Saint-Malo on the Rance, With the English fleet in view. "T was the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase; First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfre ville; Close on him fled, great and small, Twenty-two good ships in all; And they signalled to the place "Help the winners of a race! Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick—or, quicker still, Here's the English can and will! وو Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board; "Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" laughed they: "Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored, Shall the Formidable' here, with her twelve and eighty guns, Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, Trust to enter where 't is ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, And with flow at full beside? Now, 't is slackest ebb of tide. Reach the mooring? Rather say, While rock stands or water runs, Not a ship will leave the bay!" Then was called a council straight. "Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, For a prize to Plymouth Sound? Better run the ships aground!" (Ended Damfreville his speech). "Not a minute more to wait! Let the captains all and each Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach! France must undergo her fate. For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these A Captain? A Lieutenant? A Mate-first, second, third? No such man of mark, and meet With his betters to compete ! But a simple Breton sailor, pressed by Tourville for the fleet, A poor coasting-pilot he, Hervé Riel the Croisickese. And "What mockery or malice have we here?" cries Hervé Riel: "Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? Talk to me of rocks and shoals? me who took the soundings, tell On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell "Twixt the offing here and Grève where the river disembogues? Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for? Morn and eve, night and day, Have I piloted your bay, Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor. Burn the fleet and ruin France? That were worse than fifty Hogues! Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's a way! Only let me lead the line, Have the biggest ship to steer, Get this 'Formidable' clear, Make the others follow mine, And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know we, Right to Solidor past Grève, And there lay them safe and sound; |