th.

Through the clouds of smoke the horsemen could be seen dashing up to and
between the guns, cutting down the gunners as they stood. Then,
wheeling, they broke through a line of Russian infantry which sought to
stay their advance, and scattered it to right and left. In a moment
more, to the relief of those who had watched their career in an agony of
emotion, they were seen riding back from the captured redoubt.

Scattered and broken they came, some mounted, some on foot, all
hastening towards the British lines. As they wheeled to retreat, a
regiment of lancers was hurled upon their flank. Colonel Shewell, of the
8th Hussars, saw the danger, and rushed at the foe, cutting a passage
through with great loss. The others had similarly to break their way
through the columns that sought to envelop them. As they emerged from
the cavalry fight, the gunners opened upon them again, cutting new lines
of carnage through their decimated ranks. The Heavy Brigade had ridden
to their relief, but could only cover the retreat of the slender remnant
of the gallant band. In twenty-five minutes from the start not a British
soldier, except the dead and dying, was left on the scene of this daring
but mad exploit.

Captain Nolan fell among the first; Lord Lucan was slightly wounded;
Lord Cardigan had his clothes pierced by a lance; Lord Fitzgibbon
received a fatal wound. Of the total brigade, some six hundred strong,
the killed, wounded, and missing numbered four hundred and twenty-six.

While this event was taking place, a body of French cavalry made a
brilliant charge on a battery at the left, which was firing upon the
devoted brigade, and cut down the gunners. But they could not get the
guns off without support, and fell back with a loss of one-fourth their
number. Thus ended that eventful day, in which the British cavalry had
covered itself with glory, though it had only glory to show in return
for its heavy loss.

Such is the story as it stands in prose. Here is Tennyson's poetic
version, which is full of the dash and daring of the wild ride.

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE.

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 dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blu