THE MIDNIGHT CHARGE.
BY CLEMENT SCOTT.
Pass the word to the boys to-night!—lying about midst dying and
dead!—
Whisper it low; make ready to fight! stand like men at your horses'
head!
Look to your stirrups and swords, my lads, and into your saddles
your pistols thrust;
Then setting your teeth as your fathers did, you'll make the enemy
bite the dust!
What did they call us, boys, at home?—"Feather-bed soldiers!"—
faith, it's true!
"Kept to be seen in her Majesty's parks, and mightily smart at a
grand review!"
Feather-bed soldiers? Hang their chaff! Where in the world, I should
like to know,
When a war broke out and the country called, was an English soldier
sorry to go?
Brothers in arms and brothers in heart! cavalry! infantry! there and
then;
No matter what careless lives they lived, they were ready to die like
Englishmen!
So pass the word! in the sultry night,
Stand to your saddles! make ready to fight!
We are sick to death of the scorching sun, and the desert stretching
for miles away;
We are all of us longing to get at the foe, and sweep the sand with
our swords to-day!
Our horses look with piteous eyes—they have little to eat, and
nothing to do;
And the land around is horribly white, and the sky above is terribly
blue.
But it's over now, so the Colonel says: he is ready to start, we are
ready to go:
And the cavalry boys will be led by men—Ewart! and Russell! and
Drury-Lowe!
Just once again let me stroke the mane—let me kiss the neck and feel
the breath
Of the good little horse who will carry me on to the end of the
battle—to life or death!
"Give us a grip of your fist, old man!" let us all keep close when
the charge begins!
God is watching o'er those at home! God have mercy on all our sins!
So pass the word in the dark, and then,
When the bugle sounds, let us mount like men!
Out we went in the dead of the night! away to the desert, across the
sand—
Guided alone by the stars of Heaven! a speechless host! a ghostly
band!
No cheery voice the silence broke; forbidden to speak, we could hear
no sound
But the whispered words, "Be firm, my boys!" and the horses' hoofs on
the sandy ground.
"What were we thinking of then?" Look here! if this is the last true
word I speak,
I felt a lump in my throat—just here—and a tear came trickling down
my cheek.
If a man dares say that I funked, he lies! But a man is a man though
he gives his life
For his country's, cause, as a soldier should—he has still got a
heart for his child and wife!
But I still rode on in a kind of dream; I was thinking of home and
the boys—and then
The silence broke! and, a bugle blew! then a voice rang cheerily,
"Charge, my men!"
So pass the word in the thick of the fight,
For England's honour and England's right!
What is it like, a cavalry charge in the dead of night? I can
scarcely tell,
For when it is over it's like a dream, and when you are in it a kind
of hell!
I should like you to see the officers lead—forgetting their swagger
and Bond Street air—
Like brothers and men at the head of the troop, while bugles echo and
troopers dare!
With a rush we are in it, and hard at work—there's scarcely a minute
to think or pause—
For right and left we are fighting hard for the regiment's honour and
country's cause!
Feather-bed warriors! On my life, be they Life Guards red or Horse
Guards blue,
They haven't lost much of the pluck, my boys, that their fathers
showed us at Waterloo!
It isn't for us, who are soldiers bred, to chatter of wars, be they
wrong or right;
We've to keep the oath that we gave our QUEEN! and when we are in
it—we've got to fight!
So pass the word, without any noise,
Bravo, Cavalry! Well done, boys!
Pass the word to the boys to-night, now that the battle is fairly
won.
A message has come from the EMPRESS-QUEEN—just what we wanted—
a brief "Well done!"
The sword and stirrup are sorely stained, and the pistol barrels are
empty quite,
And the poor old charger's piteous eyes bear evidence clear of the
desperate fight.
There's many a wound and many a gash, and the sun-burned face is
scarred and red;
There's many a trooper safe and sound, and many a tear for the "pal"
who's dead!
I care so little for rights and wrongs of a terrible war; but the
world at large—
It knows so well when duty's done!—it will think sometimes of our
cavalry charge!
Brothers in arms and brothers in heart! we have solemnly taken an
oath! and then,
In all the battles throughout the world, we have followed our fathers
like Englishmen!
So pass this blessing the lips between—
'Tis the soldier's oath—GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.