• Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) was the poet Laurette under Queen Victoria (the official poet of the nation). He wrote many pieces, and often quite epic ballad style pieces. This poem remains one of his best known works and he tries to instill a sense of glory and myth into the poem and the soldiers.

• During this time Britain was in the Crimean War. Britain, France and Turkey were at war with Russia. At this time guns were used widely in war but were still rather basic. Muskets were inaccurate and would often be used at close range in large formations of soldiers. It was a bloody form of warfare where thousands were gunned down openly and a war could often rely on whomever had the most men.

• Artillery, such as cannons were used, as well as men on horse (cavalry). Cavalry would often be used to run round to attack from behind or the side, it was incredibly dangerous to attack head on.

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

   Someone 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 right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

   Volley’d and thunder’d;

Stormed 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 wondered.

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?

O the wild charge they made!

   All the world wondered.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,

   Noble six hundred!