THE CHARGE OF THE RUM BRIGADE
MARY S. WHEELER
All in league, all in league,
All in league onward,
All in the Valley of Death,
Walked the Six Hundred.
"Forward the Rum Brigade!
Cheers for the Whisky Raid!"
Into the Valley of Death
Walked the Six Hundred.
Forward the Rum Brigade!
Were all their friends dismayed?
Yes; and the soldiers knew
Each one had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to drink and die.
Into the Valley of Death
Walked the Six Hundred.
Drunkards to right of them,
Drunkards to left of them,
Drunkards in front of them,
One million numbered.
Oaths fell like shot and shell,
Rum did its work so well.
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Walked the Six Hundred.
Garments torn - cupboards bare -
Children with naught to wear;
Sleeping in gutters their
Fathers are lying, while
All the world wondered.
Plunged into want and woe,
Onward they madly go.
Weeping in anguish,
Wives sit, for well they know,
Shattered and sundered,
None will come back who go
Of the Six Hundred.
Curses to right of them.
Curses to left of them,
Curses behind them
Volleyed and thundered.
Stormed at by those who sell,
They, who had paid so well,
Well had been plundered.
Clenched teeth and livid brow,
Delirium tremens now,
Thus young and old men fell
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell.
Not one was left of them,
Left of the Six Hundred.
How did their glory fade!
0, the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Weep for the charge they made!
Weep for the Rum Brigade!
Fallen Six Hundred.