Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) (1086 page)

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

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