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13 Jan 2019

Poem: The Hero of Rorke's Drift


The ancients were adept at commemorating the achievements of their warriors, celebrating them in both song and bardic ode. Our own civilisation by contrast often has difficulty doing this without lapsing into mawkishness, sentimentality, and cliche.

Perhaps the most heroic action by British troop in the 19th century was the defence of Rorke's Drift in South Africa by around 80 fit men of the South Wales Borderers against a Zulu army of 4000 men, a ratio of 50 to 1. One of the best commemorations of this event was the poem written by the "naive" working class poet William MacGonagall focusing on the actions of one of the heroes of that day, Private Alfred Henry Hook. 
The key point to note is that, despite occasionally awkward language, the poem is sincere in its intention:



The Hero of Rorke's Drift


Twas at the camp of Rorke’s Drift, and at tea-time,
And busily engaged in culinary operations was a private of the line;
But suddenly he paused, for he heard a clattering din,
When instantly two men on horseback drew rein beside him.

“News from the front!” said one, “Awful news!” said the other,
“Of which, we are afraid, will put us to great bother,
For the black Zulus are coming, and for our blood doth thirst,”
“And the force is cut up to pieces!” shouted the first.

“We’re dead beat,” said both, “but we’ve got to go on,”
And on they rode both, looking very woebegone;
Then Henry Hook put all thought of cooking out of his mind,
For he was surrounded with danger on every side he did find.

He was a private of the South Wales Borderers, Henry Hook,
Also a brave soldier, and an hospital cook;
A soldier of the Queen, who was always ready to obey,
And willing to serve God by night and day.

Then away to the Camp he ran, with his mind all in a shiver,
Shouting, “The force is cut up, sir, on the other side of the river!”
Which caused the officer in command with fear to quiver,
When Henry Hook the news to him did deliver.

Then Henry Hook saluted, and immediately retired,
And with courage undaunted his soul was fired,
And the cry rang out wildly, “The Zulus are coming!”
Then the alarm drums were instantly set a-drumming.

Then “Fall in! Fall in!” the commanders did cry,
And the men mustered out, ready to do and to die,
As British soldiers are always ready to do,
But, alas, on this occasion their numbers were but few.

They were only eighty in number, that brave British band,
And brave Lieutenant Broomhead did them command;
He gave orders to erect barricades without delay,
“It’s the only plan I can see, men, to drive four thousand savages away.”

Then the mealie bags and biscuit boxes were brought out,
And the breastwork was made quickly without fear or doubt,
And barely was it finished when some one cried in dismay,
“There’s the Zulus coming just about twelve hundred yards away.”

Methinks I see the noble hero, Henry Hook,
Because like a destroying angel he did look,
As he stood at the hospital entrance defending the patients there,
Bayoneting the Zulus, while their cries rent the air,
As they strove hard the hospital to enter in,
But he murdered them in scores, and thought it no sin.

In one of the hospital rooms was stationed Henry Hook,
And every inch a hero he did look,
Standing at his loophole he watched the Zulus come,
All shouting, and yelling, and at a quick run.

On they came, a countless host of savages with a rush,
But the gallant little band soon did their courage crush,
But the cool man Henry Hook at his post began to fire,
And in a short time those maddened brutes were forced to retire.

Still on came the savages into the barricade,
And still they were driven back, but undismayed.
Again they came into the barricade, yet they were driven back,
While darkness fell swift across the sun, dismal and black.

Then into the hospital the savages forced their way,
And in a moment they set fire to it without dismay,
Then Henry Hook flew to assist the patients in the ward,
And the fighting there was fearful and hard.

With yell and shriek the Zulus rushed to the attack,
But for the sixth time they were driven back
By the brave British band, and Henry Hook,
Who was a brave soldier, surgeon, and hospital cook.

And when Lord Chelmsford heard of the victory that day,
He sent for Henry Hook without delay,
And they took the private before the commander,
And with his braces down, and without his coat, in battle array grandeur.

Then Lord Chelmsford said, “Henry Hook, give me your hand,
For your conduct to day has been heroic and grand,
And without your assistance to-day we’d been at a loss,
And for your heroic behaviour you shall receive the Victoria Cross.”


1 comment:

  1. Too bad it wasn't written by Kipling. Meter is really not that difficult.

    ReplyDelete

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