The Charge of the Light Brigade (gedicht)

Wasrolopname van The Charge of the Light Brigade, ingesproken door Alfred Tennyson in 1890

The Charge of the Light Brigade is een door Alfred Lord Tennyson geschreven gedicht uit 1854. Het gedicht heeft als voornaamste doel om de moed van ruim 600 soldaten te prijzen die een charge uitvoerden tijdens een desastreuse aanval in de Krimoorlog in hetzelfde jaar.

Tennyson was in 1853 verhuisd van Londen naar het eiland Wight. Mogelijk was zijn isolement de reden dat hij zich interesseerde voor de Krimoorlog, die hij nauwgezet volgde in de kranten. Hij publiceerde het gedicht in "Maud, and Other Poems" in 1855. [1] Tennyson heeft in 1890 het gedicht ingesproken op een wasrol.

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The Charge of the Light Brigade van Richard Caton Woodville (1856-1927)

Half a league, half a league,
  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.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers 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 the right of them,
Cannon to the 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.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turned 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.

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.

When can their glory fade?
Of the wild charge they made!
  All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
  Noble six hundred!


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  • (en) Informatie over het gedicht