Nobly he led them to the strong redoubt, And gallantly they put the foe to rout; He coveted the thickest of the fight, Where bullets whistled, and where blades gleamed bright. Where foes were fiercest he was sure to be, His strong arm dealing death, for naught cared he; And while around he heard his comrades' cheer, Bravely and well he fought, unknown to fear; But just as o'er the hill-tops sank the sun, And shouts of vict'ry told the day was won, Watching with triumph the retreating foe, A random shot was fired which laid him low. And there upon the battle plain he lies, The light of vict'ry beaming in his eyes; And at his side his gallant fellows stand, Anxious once more to clasp their leader's hand. But see! a smile lights up the pallid face; And hark! he speaks with military grace: "I'm done for, lads; 'tis hard to leave you all, And just as we have won the day to fall. Ill-luck was ever mine; I'm forced to go The moment we have driven back the foe. Perhaps 'tis best; there's One above who knows, For in His hand He holds both friends and foes; But, lads, when safe you reach old England's shore, Home, sweet, sweet home, which I shall see no more. Just seek out father, mother, sis, and tell Them all that I have done my duty well; Good-bye, brave lads; my freed and happy soul Now answers to the heavenly muster roll. You'll think of me, when far across the wave, As sweetly slumbering in the soldier's grave." CHAPTER IV. More Trench Work--Meeting with Capt. Vicars--My Letter of the 15th March, 1855--Night Attack in the Trenches--Capt. Vicars' Death--A few Remarks showing his Noble Character--My Letter Descriptive of the Fight--Storming Rifle Pits--More Trench Duty--Supplementary Letter--The Taking of the Quarries and Circular Trench--Desperate Fighting before Sebastopol, the 7th and 88th Leading--My Letter Home, 8th June--Continued Fighting--First Assault on the Town--Its Bloody Repulse--The Poor Old Light Division Cut to Pieces--The Fusiliers again Led the Way--My Letter of the 18th--Waiting to be Revenged--A Terrible Night--Attack by the Enemy and its Bloody Repulse--My Letter of the 28th June describing the Fight--Death of Lord Raglan, much felt through the Allied Army--The Battle of Tchernaya, 16th August--The Enemy's Last Throw for Victory Defeated--My Letter Home of the 18th Aug.--Creeping Closer and Closer to the Doomed City--The Last or Terrible Bombardment--A Nasty Blunder, our own people pitching into us--My Letter Home, 2 a.m., 8th Sept.--P.S. to it announcing my Death--My P.P.S. after I had recovered.