THE CHARGE OF THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE.

Lyell Times and Central Buller Gazette, Volume VI, Issue 261, 20 February 1886, Page 4

THE CHARGE OF THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE.

There spiritel lines, recording one of the most stirring incidents in the late campaign, were written l»y Priv?ite T. Slini',», of tlie Ist llattdion Gordon Highlanders. They were first printed at Cain, for circulation in the regiment, when Sir Arch lulil Allison at oncereeogni el their noetic merit. Tiiey well deserve a w.der eireula'ion than that intended for them by the author, who seems to be as ready with the pen as he is with the sWol'd : Hurrah! mv lad-, old Scotland's plumes In triumph well may wave ; And proudly may oil Eugland'boast, Her sous both staunch and brave ; And Ireland's pride—the brave Eighteenth •Who never yet knew fear— Struck terror to the rebel hearts That heard their charging cheer. Hurrah 1 hurrah! the Mighlaud steel Its bloody work h is done ; And fast and far the- rebeU hVe, For Tel-el-Kebii's vvon ! 'Twas on the evening of the twelfth We formed upon parade, And Allison, in words like these, Addressed his brave lirig ide : " My lad*,'' he said, " our foes are strong. Their trenches wide and deep, And far and near across the plain His heavy guns can s'veep ; So stealthily and silently Our way to-night we'll feel, And then, ere dawns the morning light, Upon them with the steel." No cheer arose throughout the rank', For silence was the word ; But plainer still their faces told How deep their hearts were stirred ; And round their well-loved Chieftain's lips The smile that proudly played Said plainer far than words could say, " I trust ray brave Brigade." R'g it well he knew his Highland lads Were steady, brave, and true, And none could better do the work Laid out for them to do. And then commenced that silent march Across the desert sand ; No sound except the stealthy tread, Or low, half-hushed command. A rest —and then once more on loot, Without a sound or sign, Still closer to the deadly trench Pressed on the thin red line. Now silence, silence, on your lives, No word above your breath ; li but their gunners found us now Twould mean a sweeping death. t At last rang out their bugle notes Upon the morning air, And in the gloom the rifle flash Told us the foe was there. One instant's pause to fix our steel, One instant —only one, And with a cheer that rent the air, The Highlanders rushed on ; And soon their flashing bayonets quenched The living chain of fire. Hurrah ! the foremost trench is won, The rebel hounds retire. Rut onward, onward to the Iront, Advance my Scottish sons ; Although you've left his trenches clear, You've yet to take his guns. See how his cursed rebel shot Amongst us plough the ground, And still his ill-directed shell Are bursting all around ; Another charge, another cheer, And stark his gunners lay, While redly gleamed our bayonet blades All in the bursting day.

And now, my gallant Highland lads, The victory is won ! Oil- Indian troops take up pursuit, Your work is almost done. See! how across the desert waste In terror white they fly ', Or gasping on the blood-stained sand, Iu riddled heaps they lie. For Alexandria's butchery A double debt they pay. 0, victims of their hellish hate, You're well avenged to-day!

God rest the gallant souls that fell In that fierce and bloody tight, While bringing British pluck to bear Against the rebel might; [grieve, And though their friends and comrades Still glorious 'tis to tell, For every Highland heart that's still A hundred rebels tell. And proudly will the Scotch recall, And long the rebels rue, The thirteenth of September, Eighteen hundred and eighty-two.