Read Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) Online
Authors: Thomas Hardy
who have come in here instead of going further. Along the road
near is a continual procession of bearers of wounded men to the
rear. The occupants of the camp take hardly any notice of the
thundering of the cannon. A camp-follower is playing a fiddle
near. Another woman enters.]
WOMAN
There's no sign of my husband any longer. His battalion is half-a-
mile from where it was. He looked back as they wheeled off towards
the fighting-line, as much as to say, "Nancy, if I don't see 'ee
again, this is good-bye, my dear." Yes, poor man!... Not but
what 'a had a temper at times!
SECOND WOMAN
I'm out of all that. My husband—as I used to call him for form's
sake—is quiet enough. He was wownded at Quarter-Brass the day
before yesterday, and died the same night. But I didn't know it
till I got here, and then says I, "Widder or no widder, I mean to
see this out."
[A sergeant staggers in with blood dropping from his face.]
SERGEANT
Damned if I think you will see it out, mis'ess, for if I don't
mistake there'll be a retreat of the whole army on Brussels soon.
We can't stand much longer!—For the love of God, have ye got a
cup of water, if nothing stronger?
[They hand a cup.]
THIRD WOMAN
[entering and sinking down]
The Lord send that I may never see again what I've been seeing while
looking for my poor galliant Joe! The surgeon asked me to lend a
hand; and 'twas worse than opening innerds at a pig-killing!
[She
faints.]
FOURTH WOMAN
[to a little girl]
Never mind her, my dear; come and help me with this one.
[She goes
with the girl to a soldier in red with buff facings who lies some
distance off.]
Ah—'tis no good. He's gone.
GIRL
No, mother. His eyes are wide open, a-staring to get a sight of
the battle!
FOURTH WOMAN
That's nothing. Lots of dead ones stare in that silly way. It
depends upon where they were hit. I was all through the Peninsula;
that's how I know.
[She covers the horny gaze of the man. Shouts
and louder discharges are heard.]
—Heaven's high tower, what's that?
[Enter an officer's servant.[24]
]
SERVANT
Waiting with the major's spare hoss—up to my knees in mud from
the rain that had come down like baccy-pipe stems all the night
and morning—I have just seen a charge never beholded since the
days of the Amalekites! The squares still stand, but Ney's cavalry
have made another attack. Their swords are streaming with blood,
and their horses' hoofs squash out our poor fellow's bowels as they
lie. A ball has sunk in Sir Thomas Picton's forehead and killed him
like Goliath the Philistine. I don't see what's to stop the French.
Well, it's the Lord's doing and marvellous in our eyes. Hullo,
who's he?
[They look towards the road.]
A fine hale old gentleman,
isn't he? What business has a man of that sort here?
[Enter, on the highway near, the DUKE OF RICHMOND in plain clothes,
on horseback, accompanied by two youths, his sons. They draw
rein on an eminence, and gaze towards the battlefields.]
RICHMOND
[to son]
Everything looks as bad as possible just now. I wonder where your
brother is? However, we can't go any nearer.... Yes, the bat-
horses are already being moved off, and there are more and more
fugitives. A ghastly finish to your mother's ball, by Gad if it
isn't!
[They turn their horses towards Brussels. Enter, meeting them,
MR. LEGH, a Wessex gentleman, also come out to view the battle.]
LEGH
Can you tell me, sir, how the battle is going?
RICHMOND
Badly, badly, I fear, sir. There will be a retreat soon, seemingly.
LEGH
Indeed! Yes, a crowd of fugitives are coming over the hill even now.
What will these poor women do?
RICHMOND
God knows! They will be ridden over, I suppose. Though it is
extraordinary how they do contrive to escape destruction while
hanging so close to the rear of an action! They are moving,
however. Well, we will move too.
[Exeunt DUKE OF RICHMOND, sons, and MR. LEGH. The point of view
shifts.]
SCENE VI
THE SAME. THE FRENCH POSITION
[NEY'S charge of cavalry against the opposite upland has been
three times renewed without success. He collects the scattered
squadrons to renew it a fourth time. The glittering host again
ascends the confronting slopes over the bodies of those previously
left there, and amid horses wandering about without riders, or
crying as they lie with entrails trailing or limbs broken.]
NAPOLEON
[starting up]
A horrible dream has gripped me—horrible!
I saw before me Lannes—just as he looked
That day at Aspern: mutilated, bleeding!
"What—blood again?" he said to me. "Still blood?"
[He further arouses himself, takes snuff vehemently, and looks
through his glass.]
What time is it?—Ah, these assaults of Ney's!
They are a blunder; they've been enterprised
An hour too early!... There Lheritier goes
Onward with his division next Milhaud;
Now Kellermann must follow up with his.
So one mistake makes many. Yes; ay; yes!
SOULT
I fear that Ney has compromised us here
Just as at Jena; even worse!
NAPOLEON
No less
Must we support him now he is launched on it....
The miracle is that he is still alive!
[NEY and his mass of cavalry again pass the English batteries
and disappear amid the squares beyond.]
Their cannon are abandoned; and their squares
Again environed—see! I would to God
Murat could be here! Yet I disdained
His proffered service.... All my star asks now
Is to break some half-dozen of those blocks
Of English yonder. He was the man to do it.
[NEY and D'ERLON'S squadrons are seen emerging from the English
squares in a disorganized state, the attack having failed like
the previous ones. An aide-de-camp enters to NAPOLEON.]
AIDE
The Prussians have debouched on our right rear
From Paris-wood; and Losthin's infantry
Appear by Plancenoit; Hiller's to leftwards.
Two regiments of their horse protect their front,
And three light batteries.
[A haggard shade crosses NAPOLEON'S face.]
NAPOLEON
What then! That's not a startling force as yet.
A counter-stroke by Domon's cavalry
Must shatter them. Lobau must bring his foot
Up forward, heading for the Prussian front,
Unrecking losses by their cannonade.
[Exit aide. The din of battle continues. DOMON'S horse are soon
seen advancing towards and attacking the Prussian hussars in front
of the infantry; and he next attempts to silence the Prussian
batteries playing on him by leading up his troops and cutting
down the gunners. But he has to fall back upon the infantry
of LOBAU. Enter another aide-de-camp.]
AIDE
These tiding I report, your Majesty:—
Von Ryssel's and von Hacke's Prussian foot
Have lately sallied from the Wood of Paris,
Bearing on us; no vast array as yet;
But twenty thousand loom not far behind
These vanward marchers!
NAPOLEON
Ah! They swarm thus thickly?
But be they hell's own legions we'll defy them!—
Lobau's men will stand firm.
[He looks in the direction of the English lines, where NEY'S
cavalry-assaults still linger furiously on.]
But who rides hither,
Spotting the sky with clods in his high haste?
SOULT
It looks like Colonel Heymes—come from Ney.
NAPOLEON
[sullenly]
And his face shows what clef his music's in!
[Enter COLONEL HEYMES, blood-stained, muddy, and breathless.]
HEYMES
The Prince of Moscow, sire, the Marshal Ney,
Bids me implore that infantry be sent
Immediately, to further his attack.
They cannot be dispensed with, save we fail!
NAPOLEON
[furiously]
Infantry! Where the sacred God thinks he
I can find infantry for him! Forsooth,
Does he expect me to create them—eh?
Why sends he such a message, seeing well
How we are straitened here!
HEYMES
Such was the prayer
Of my commission, sire. And I say
That I myself have seen his strokes must waste
Without such backing.
NAPOLEON
Why?
HEYMES
Our cavalry
Lie stretched in swathes, fronting the furnace-throats
Of the English cannon as a breastwork built
Of reeking copses. Marshal Ney's third horse
Is shot. Besides the slain, Donop, Guyot,
Lheritier, Piquet, Travers, Delort, more,
Are vilely wounded. On the other hand
Wellington has sought refuge in a square,
Few of his generals are not killed or hit,
And all is tickle with him. But I see,
Likewise, that I can claim no reinforcement,
And will return and say so.
[Exit HEYMES]
NAPOLEON
[to Soult, sadly]
Ney does win me!
I fain would strengthen him.—Within an ace
Of breaking down the English as he is,
'Twould write upon the sunset "Victory!"—
But whom may spare we from the right here now?
So single man!
[An interval.]
Life's curse begins, I see,
With helplessness!... All I can compass is
To send Durutte to fall on Papelotte,
And yet more strongly occupy La Haye,
To cut off Bulow's right from bearing up
And checking Ney's attack. Further than this
None but the Gods can scheme!
[SOULT hastily begins writing orders to that effect. The point
of view shifts.]
SCENE VII
THE SAME. THE ENGLISH POSITION
[The din of battle continues. WELLINGTON, UXBRIDGE, HILL, DE
LANCEY, GORDON, and others discovered near the middle of the line.]
SPIRIT OF RUMOUR
It is a moment when the steadiest pulse
Thuds pit-a-pat. The crisis shapes and nears
For Wellington as for his counter-chief.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
The hour is shaking him, unshakeable
As he may seem!
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Know'st not at this stale time
That shaken and unshaken are alike
But demonstrations from the Back of Things?
Must I again reveal It as It hauls
The halyards of the world?
[A transparency as in earlier scenes again pervades the spectacle,
and the ubiquitous urging of the Immanent Will becomes visualized.
The web connecting all the apparently separate shapes includes
WELLINGTON in its tissue with the rest, and shows him, like them,
as acting while discovering his intention to act. By the lurid
light the faces of every row, square, group, and column of men,
French and English, wear the expression of that of people in a
dream.]
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
[tremulously]
Yea, sire; I see.
Disquiet me, pray, no more!
[The strange light passes, and the embattled hosts on the field
seem to move independently as usual.]
WELLINGTON
[to Uxbridge]
Manoeuvring does not seem to animate
Napoleon's methods now. Forward he comes,
And pounds away on us in the ancient style,
Till he is beaten back in the ancient style;
And so the see-saw sways!
[The din increases. WELLINGTON'S aide-de-camp, Sir A. GORDON,
a little in his rear, falls mortally wounded. The DUKE turns
quickly.]
But where is Gordon?
Ah—hit is he! That's bad, that's bad, by God.
[GORDON is removed. An aide enters.]
AIDE
Your Grace, the Colonel Ompteda has fallen,
And La Haye Sainte is now a bath of blood.
Nothing more can be done there, save with help.
The Rifles suffer sharply!
[An aide is seen coming from KEMPT.]
WELLINGTON
What says he?
DE LANCEY
He says that Kempt, being riddled through and thinned,
Sends him for reinforcements.
WELLINGTON
[with heat]
Reinforcements?
And where am I to get him reinforcements