By Flood And Field – A Legend Of The Cottiswold By Adam Lindsay Gordon

�They have saddled a hundred milk-white steeds,
They have bridled a hundred black.� Old Ballad.
�He turned in his saddle, now follow who dare.
I ride for my country, quoth * *.�
– Lawrence.

    I remember the lowering wintry morn,
    And the mist on the Cotswold hills,
    Where I once heard the blast of the huntsman�s horn,
    Not far from the seven rills.
    Jack Esdale was there, and Hugh St. Clair,
    Bob Chapman and Andrew Kerr,
    And big George Griffiths on Devil-May-Care,
    And, black Tom Oliver.
    And one who rode on a dark-brown steed,
    Clean jointed, sinewy, spare,
    With the lean game head of the Blacklock breed,
    And the resolute eye that loves the lead,
    And the quarters massive and square,
    A tower of strength, with a promise of speed
    (There was Celtic blood in the pair).

    I remember how merry a start we got,
    When the red fox broke from the gorse,
    In a country so deep, with a scent so hot,
    That the hound could outpace the horse;
    I remember how few in the front rank shew�d,
    How endless appeared the tail,
    On the brown hill-side, where we cross�d the road,
    And headed towards the vale.
    The dark-brown steed on the left was there,
    On the right was a dappled grey,
    And between the pair, on a chestnut mare,
    The duffer who writes this lay.
    What business had �this child� there to ride?
    But little or none at all;
    Yet I held my own for a while in �the pride
    That goeth before a fall.�
    Though rashness can hope for but one result,
    We are heedless when fate draws nigh us,
    And the maxim holds good, �Quem perdere vult
    Deus, dementat prius.�

    The right hand man to the left hand said,
    As down in the vale we went,
    �Harden your heart like a millstone, Ned,
    And set your face as flint;
    Solid and tall is the rasping wall
    That stretches before us yonder;
    You must have it at speed or not at all,
    �Twere better to halt than to ponder,
    For the stream runs wide on the take-off side,
    And washes the clay bank under;
    Here goes for a pull, �tis a madman�s ride,
    And a broken neck if you blunder.�

    No word in reply his comrade spoke,
    Nor waver�d nor once look�d round,
    But I saw him shorten his horse�s stroke
    As we splash�d through the marshy ground;
    I remember the laugh that all the while
    On his quiet features play�d:
    So he rode to his death, with that careless smile,
    In the van of the �Light Brigade�;
    So stricken by Russian grape, the cheer
    Rang out, while he toppled back,
    From the shattered lungs as merry and clear
    As it did when it roused the pack.
    Let never a tear his memory stain,
    Give his ashes never a sigh,
    One of many who perished, not in vain,
    As a type of our chivalry.

    I remember one thrust he gave to his hat,
    And two to the flanks of the brown,
    And still as a statue of old he sat,
    And he shot to the front, hands down;
    I remember the snort and the stag-like bound
    Of the steed six lengths to the fore,
    And the laugh of the rider while, landing sound,
    He turned in his saddle and glanced around;
    I remember, but little more,
    Save a bird�s-eye gleam of the dashing stream,
    A jarring thud on the wall,
    A shock and the blank of a nightmare�s dream,
    I was down with a stunning fall.