Part 16
[The soldiers look up, and see entering at the further end of the patch of ground a slow procession. It advances by the light of lanterns in the hands of some members of it. At moments the fitful rays fall upon bearers carrying a coffinless body rolled in a blanket, with a military cloak roughly thrown over by way of pall. It is brought towards the incomplete grave, and followed by HOPE, GRAHAM, ANDERSON, COLBORNE, HARDINGE, and several aides-de-camp, a chaplain preceding.]
FIRST SOLDIER
They are here, almost as quickly as ourselves. There is no time to dig much deeper now: Level a bottom just as far's we've got. He'll couch as calmly in this scrabbled hole As in a royal vault!
SECOND SOLDIER
Would it had been a foot deeper, here among foreigners, with strange manures manufactured out of no one knows what! Surely we can give him another six inches?
FIRST SOLDIER
There is no time. Just make the bottom true.
[The meagre procession approaches the spot, and waits while the half-dug grave is roughly finished by the men of the Ninth. They step out of it, and another of them holds a lantern to the chaplain's book. The winter day slowly dawns.]
CHAPLAIN
“Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.”
[A gun is fired from the French battery not far off; then another. The ships in the harbour take in their riding lights.]
COLBORNE [in a low voice]
I knew that dawn would see them open fire.
HOPE
We must perforce make swift use of out time. Would we had closed our too sad office sooner!
[As the body is lowered another discharge echoes. They glance gloomily at the heights where the French are ranged, and then into the grave.]
CHAPLAIN
“We therefore commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” [Another gun.]
[A spent ball falls not far off. They put out their lanterns. Continued firing, some shot splashing into the harbour below them.]
HOPE
In mercy to the living, who are thrust Upon our care for their deliverance, And run much hazard till they are embarked, We must abridge these duties to the dead, Who will not mind be they abridged or no.
HARDINGE
And could he mind, would be the man to bid it....
HOPE
We shall do well, then, curtly to conclude These mutilated prayers--our hurried best!-- And what's left unsaid, feel.
CHAPLAIN [his words broken by the cannonade]
“.... We give Thee hearty thanks for that it hath pleased Thee to deliver this our brother out of the miseries of this sinful world.... Who also hath taught us not to be sorry, as men without hope, for them that sleep in Him.... Grant this, through Jesus Christ our Mediator and Redeemer.”
OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS
Amen!
[The diggers of the Ninth hastily fill in the grave, and the scene shuts as the mournful figures retire.]
## SCENE V
VIENNA. A CAFE IN THE STEPHANS-PLATZ
[An evening between light and dark is disclosed, some lamps being lit. The huge body and tower of St. Stephen's rise into the sky some way off, the western gleam still touching the upper stonework. Groups of people are seated at the tables, drinking and reading the newspapers. One very animated group, which includes an Englishman, is talking loudly. A citizen near looks up from his newspaper.]
CITIZEN [to the Englishman]
I read, sir, here, the troubles you discuss Of your so gallant army under Moore. His was a spirit baffled but not quelled, And in his death there shone a stoicism That lent retreat the rays of victory.
ENGLISHMAN
It was so. While men chide they will admire him, And frowning, praise. I could nigh prophesy That the unwonted crosses he has borne In his career of sharp vicissitude Will tinct his story with a tender charm, And grant the memory of his strenuous feats As long a lease within the minds of men As conquerors hold there.--Does the sheet give news Of how the troops reached home?
CITIZEN [looking up again at the paper]
Yes; from your press It quotes that they arrived at Plymouth Sound Mid dreadful weather and much suffering. It states they looked the very ghosts of men, So heavily had hunger told on them, And the fatigues and toils of the retreat. Several were landed dead, and many died As they were borne along. At Portsmouth, too, Sir David Baird, still helpless from his wound, Was carried in a cot, sheet-pale and thin, And Sir John Hope, lank as a skeleton.-- Thereto is added, with authority, That a new expedition soon will fit, And start again for Spain.
ENGLISHMAN
I have heard as much.
CITIZEN
You'll do it next time, sir. And so shall we!
SECOND CITIZEN [regarding the church tower opposite]
You witnessed the High Service over there They held this morning? [To the Englishman.]
ENGLISHMAN
Ay; I did get in; Though not without hard striving, such the throng; But travellers roam to waste who shyly roam And I pushed like the rest.
SECOND CITIZEN
Our young Archduchess Maria Louisa was, they tell me, present?
ENGLISHMAN
O yes: the whole Imperial family, And when the Bishop called all blessings down Upon the Landwehr colours there displayed, Enthusiasm touched the sky--she sharing it.
SECOND CITIZEN
Commendable in her, and spirited, After the graceless insults to the Court The Paris journals flaunt--not voluntarily, But by his ordering. Magician-like He holds them in his fist, and at his squeeze They bubble what he wills!... Yes, she's a girl Of patriotic build, and hates the French. Quite lately she was overheard to say She had met with most convincing auguries That this year Bonaparte was starred to die.
ENGLISHMAN
Your arms must render its fulfilment sure.
SECOND CITIZEN
Right! And we have the opportunity, By upping to the war in suddenness, And catching him unaware. The pink and flower Of all his veteran troops are now in Spain Fully engaged with yours; while those he holds In Germany are scattered far and wide.
FIRST CITIZEN [looking up again from his newspaper]
I see here that he vows and guarantees Inviolate bounds to all our territories If we but pledge to carry out forthwith A prompt disarmament. Since that's his price Hell burn his guarantees! Too long he has fooled us. [To the Englishman] I drink, sir, to your land's consistency. While we and all the kindred Europe States Alternately have wooed and warred him, You have not bent to blowing hot and cold, But held you sturdily inimical!
ENGLISHMAN [laughing]
Less Christian-like forgiveness mellows us Than Continental souls! [They drink.]
[A band is heard in a distant street, with shouting. Enter third and fourth citizens, followed by others.]
FIRST CITIZEN
More news afloat?
THIRD AND FOURTH CITIZENS
Yea; an announcement that the Archduke Charles Is given the chief command.
FIRST, SECOND, ETC., CITIZENS
Huzza! Right so!
[A clinking of glasses, rising from seats, and general enthusiasm.]
SECOND CITIZEN
If war had not so patly been declared, Our howitzers and firelocks of themselves Would have gone off to shame us! This forenoon Some of the Landwehr met me; they are hot For setting out, though but few months enrolled.
ENGLISHMAN
That moves reflection somewhat. They are young For measuring with the veteran file of France!
FIRST CITIZEN
Napoleon's army swarms with tender youth, His last conscription besomed into it Thousands of merest boys. But he contrives To mix them in the field with seasoned frames.
SECOND CITIZEN
The sadly-seen mistake this country made Was that of grounding hostile arms at all. We should have fought irreconcilably-- Have been consistent as the English are. The French are our hereditary foes, And this adventurer of the saucy sword, This sacrilegious slighter of our shrines, Stands author of all our ills... Our harvest fields and fruits he trample on, Accumulating ruin in our land. Think of what mournings in the last sad war 'Twas his to instigate and answer for! Time never can efface the glint of tears In palaces, in shops, in fields, in cots, From women widowed, sonless, fatherless, That then oppressed our eyes. There is no salve For such deep harrowings but to fight again; The enfranchisement of Europe hangs thereon, And long she has lingered for the sign to crush him: That signal we have given; the time is come! [Thumping on the table.]
FIFTH CITIZEN [at another table, looking up from his paper and speaking across]
I see that Russia has declined to aid us, And says she knows that Prussia likewise must; So that the mission of Prince Schwarzenberg To Alexander's Court has closed in failure.
THIRD CITIZEN
Ay--through his being honest--fatal sin!-- Probing too plainly for the Emperor's ears His ominous friendship with Napoleon.
ENGLISHMAN
Some say he was more than honest with the Tsar; Hinting that his becoming an ally Makes him accomplice of the Corsican In the unprincipled dark overthrow Of his poor trusting childish Spanish friends-- Which gave the Tsar offence.
THIRD CITIZEN
And our best bid-- The last, most delicate dish--a tastelessness.
FIRST CITIZEN
What was Prince Schwarzenberg's best bid, I pray?
THIRD CITIZEN
The offer of the heir of Austria's hand For Alexander's sister the Grand-Duchess.
ENGLISHMAN
He could not have accepted, if or no: She is inscribed as wife for Bonaparte.
FIRST CITIZEN
I doubt that text!
ENGLISHMAN
Time's context soon will show.
SECOND CITIZEN
The Russian Cabinet can not for long Resist the ardour of the Russian ranks To march with us the moment we achieve Our first loud victory!
[A band is heard playing afar, and shouting. People are seen hurrying past in the direction of the sounds. Enter sixth citizen.]
SIXTH CITIZEN
The Archduke Charles Is passing the Ringstrasse just by now, His regiment at his heels!
[The younger sitters jump up with animation, and go out, the elder mostly remaining.]
SECOND CITIZEN
Realm never faced The grin of a more fierce necessity For horrid war, than ours at this tense time!
[The sounds of band-playing and huzzaing wane away. Citizens return.]
FIRST CITIZEN
More news, my friends, of swiftly swelling zeal?
RE-ENTERED CITIZENS
Ere passing down the Ring, the Archduke paused And gave the soldiers speech, enkindling them As sunrise a confronting throng of panes That glaze a many-windowed east facade: Hot volunteers vamp in from vill and plain-- More than we need in the furthest sacrifice!
FIRST, SECOND, ETC., CITIZENS
Huzza! Right so! Good! Forwards! God be praised!
[They stand up, and a clinking of glasses follows, till they subside to quietude and a reperusal of newspapers. Nightfall succeeds. Dancing-rooms are lit up in an opposite street, and dancing begins. The figures are seen gracefully moving round to the throbbing strains of a string-band, which plays a new waltzing movement with a warlike name, soon to spread over Europe. The dancers sing patriotic words as they whirl. The night closes over.]
ACT FOURTH
## SCENE I
A ROAD OUT OF VIENNA
[It is morning in early May. Rain descends in torrents, accompanied by peals of thunder. The tepid downpour has caused the trees to assume as by magic a clothing of limp green leafage, and has turned the ruts of the uneven highway into little canals.
A drenched travelling-chariot is passing, with a meagre escort. In the interior are seated four women: the ARCHDUCHESS MARIA LOUISA, in age about eighteen; her stepmother the EMPRESS OF AUSTRIA, third wife of FRANCIS, only four years older than the ARCHDUCHESS; and two ladies of the Austrian Court. Behind come attendant carriages bearing servants and luggage.
The inmates remain for the most part silent, and appear to be in a gloomy frame of mind. From time to time they glance at the moist spring scenes which pass without in a perspective distorted by the rain-drops that slide down the panes, and by the blurring effect of the travellers' breathings. Of the four the one who keeps in the best spirits is the ARCHDUCHESS, a fair, blue-eyed, full- figured, round-lipped maiden.]
MARIA LOUISA
Whether the rain comes in or not I must open the window. Please allow me. [She straightway opens it.]
EMPRESS [groaning]
Yes--open or shut it--I don't care. I am too ill to care for anything! [The carriage jolts into a hole.] O woe! To think that I am driven away from my husband's home in such a miserable conveyance, along such a road, and in such weather as this. [Peal of thunder.] There are his guns!
MARIA LOUISA
No, my dear one. It cannot be his guns. They told us when we started that he was only half-way from Ratisbon hither, so that he must be nearly a hundred miles off as yet; and a large army cannot move fast.
EMPRESS
He should never have been let come nearer than Ratisbon! The victory at Echmuhl was fatal for us. O Echmuhl, Echmuhl! I believe he will overtake us before we get to Buda.
FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING
If so, your Majesty, shall we be claimed as prisoners and marched to Paris?
EMPRESS
Undoubtedly. But I shouldn't much care. It would not be worse than this.... I feel sodden all through me, and frowzy, and broken! [She closes her eyes as if to doze.]
MARIA LOUISA
It is dreadful to see her suffer so! [Shutting the window.] If the roads were not so bad I should not mind. I almost wish we had stayed; though when he arrives the cannonade will be terrible.
FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING
I wonder if he will get into Vienna. Will his men knock down all the houses, madam?
MARIA LOUISA
If he do get in, I am sure his triumph will not be for long. My uncle the Archduke Charles is at his heels! I have been told many important prophecies about Bonaparte's end, which is fast nearing, it is asserted. It is he, they say, who is referred to in the Apocalypse. He is doomed to die this year at Cologne, in an inn called “The Red Crab.” I don't attach too much importance to all these predictions, but O, how glad I should be to see them come true!
SECOND LADY-IN-WAITING
So should we all, madam. What would become of his divorce-scheme then?
MARIA LOUISA
Perhaps there is nothing in that report. One can hardly believe such gossip.
SECOND LADY-IN-WAITING
But they say, your Imperial Highness, that he certainly has decided to sacrifice the Empress Josephine, and that at the meeting last October with the Emperor Alexander at Erfurt, it was even settled that he should marry as his second wife the Grand-Duchess Anne.
MARIA LOUISA
I am sure that the Empress her mother will never allow one of the house of Romanoff to marry with a bourgeois Corsican. I wouldn't if I were she!
FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING
Perhaps, your Highness, they are not so particular in Russia, where they are rather new themselves, as we in Austria, with your ancient dynasty, are in such matters.
MARIA LOUISA
Perhaps not. Though the Empress-mother is a pompous old thing, as I have been told by Prince Schwarzenberg, who was negotiating there last winter. My father says it would be a dreadful misfortune for our country if they were to marry. Though if we are to be exiled I don't see how anything of that sort can matter much.... I hope my father is safe!
[An officer of the escort rides up to the carriage window, which is opened.]
EMPRESS [unclosing her eyes]
Any more misfortunes?
OFFICER
A rumour is a-wind, your Majesty, That the French host, the Emperor in its midst, Lannes, Massena, and Bessieres in its van, Advancing hither along the Ratisbon road, Has seized the castle and town of Ebersberg, And burnt all down, with frightful massacre, Vast heaps of dead and wounded being consumed, So that the streets stink strong with frizzled flesh.-- The enemy, ere this, has crossed the Traun, Hurling brave Hiller's army back on us, And marches on Amstetten--thirty miles Less distant from Vienna from before!
EMPRESS
The Lord show mercy to us! But O why Did not the Archdukes intercept the foe?
OFFICER
His Highness Archduke Charles, your Majesty, After his sore repulse Bohemia-wards, Could not proceed with strength and speed enough To close in junction with the Archduke John And Archduke Louis, as was their intent. So Marshall Lannes swings swiftly on Vienna, With Oudinot's and Demont's might of foot; Then Massena and all his mounted men, And then Napoleon, Guards, Cuirassiers, And the main body of the Imperial Force.
EMPRESS
Alas for poor Vienna!
OFFICER
Even so! Your Majesty has fled it none too soon.
[The window is shut, and the procession disappears behind the sheets of rain.]
## SCENE II
THE ISLAND OF LOBAU, WITH WAGRAM BEYOND
[The northern horizon at the back of the bird's-eye prospect is the high ground stretching from the Bisamberg on the left to the plateau of Wagram on the right. In front of these elevations spreads the wide plain of the Marchfeld, open, treeless, and with scarcely a house upon it.[16]
In the foreground the Danube crosses the scene with a graceful slowness, looping itself round the numerous wooded islands therein. The largest of these, immediately under the eye, is the Lobau, which stands like a knot in the gnarled grain represented by the running river.
On this island can be discerned, closely packed, an enormous dark multitude of foot, horse, and artillery in French uniforms, the numbers reaching to a hundred and seventy thousand.
Lifting our eyes to discover what may be opposed to them we perceive on the Wagram plateau aforesaid, and right and left in front of it, extended lines of Austrians, whitish and glittering, to the number of a hundred and forty thousand.
The July afternoon turns to evening, the evening to twilight. A species of simmer which pervades the living spectacle raises expectation till the very air itself seems strained with suspense. A huge event of some kind is awaiting birth.]
DUMB SHOW
The first change under the cloak of night is that the tightly packed regiments on the island are got under arms. The soldiery are like a thicket of reeds in which every reed should be a man.
A large bridge connects the island with the further shore, as well as some smaller bridges. Opposite are high redoubts and ravelins that the Austrians have constructed for opposing the passage across, which the French ostentatiously set themselves to attempt by the large bridge, amid heavy cannonading.
But the movement is a feint, though this is not perceived by the Austrians as yet. The real movement is on the right hand of the foreground, behind a spur of the isle, and out of sight of the enemy; where several large rafts and flat boats, each capable of carrying three hundred men, are floated out from a screened creek.
Chosen battalions enter upon these, which immediately begin to cross with their burden. Simultaneously from other screened nooks secretly prepared floating bridges, in sections, are moved forth, joined together, and defended by those who crossed on the rafts.
At two o'clock in the morning the thousands of cooped soldiers begin to cross the bridges, producing a scene which, on such a scale, was never before witnessed in the history of war. A great discharge from the batteries accompanies this manoeuvre, arousing the Austrians to a like cannonade.
The night has been obscure for summer-time, and there is no moon. The storm now breaks in a tempestuous downpour, with lightning and thunder. The tumult of nature mingles so fantastically with the tumult of projectiles that flaming bombs and forked flashes cut the air in company, and the noise from the mortars alternates with the noise from the clouds.
From bridge to bridge and back again a gloomy-eyed figure stalks, as it has stalked the whole night long, with the restlessness of a wild animal. Plastered with mud, and dribbling with rain-water, it bears no resemblance to anything dignified or official. The figure is that of NAPOLEON, urging his multitudes over.
By daylight the great mass of the men is across the water. At six the rain ceases, the mist uncovers the face of the sun, which bristles on the helmets and bayonets of the French. A hum of amazement rises from the Austrian hosts, who turn staring faces southward and perceive what has happened, and the columns of their enemies standing to arms on the same side of the stream with themselves, and preparing to turn their left wing.
NAPOLEON rides along the front of his forces, which now spread out upon the plain, and are ranged in order of battle.
Dumb Show ends, and the point of view changes.
## SCENE III
THE FIELD OF WAGRAM
[The battlefield is now viewed reversely, from the windows of a mansion at Wolkersdorf, to the rear of the Austrian position. The aspect of the windows is nearly south, and the prospect includes the plain of the Marchfeld, with the isled Danube and Lobau in the extreme distance. Ten miles to the south-west, rightwards, the faint summit of the tower of St. Stephen's, Vienna, appears. On the middle-left stands the compact plateau of Wagram, so regularly shaped as to seem as if constructed by art. On the extreme left the July sun has lately risen.
Inside the room are discovered the EMPEROR FRANCIS and some house- hold officers in attendance; with the War-Minister and Secretaries at a table at the back. Through open doors can be seen in an outer apartment adjutants, equerries, aides, and other military men. An officer in waiting enters.]
OFFICER
During the night the French have shifted, sire, And much revised their stations of the eve By thwart and wheeling moves upon our left, And on our centre--projects unforeseen Till near accomplished.
FRANCIS
But I am advised By oral message that the Archduke Charles, Since the sharp strife last night, has mended, too, His earlier dispositions, and has sped Strong orders to the Archduke John, to bring In swiftest marches all the force he holds, And fall with heavy impact on the French From nigh their rear?
OFFICER
'Tis good, sire; such a swoop Will raise an obstacle to their retreat And refuge in the fastness of the isle; And show this victory-gorged adventurer That striking with a river in his rear Is not the safest tactic to be played Against an Austrian front equipt like ours!
[The EMPEROR FRANCIS and others scrutinize through their glasses the positions and movements of the Austrian divisions, which appear on the plain as pale masses, emitting flashes from arms and helmets under the July rays, and reaching from the Tower of Neusiedel on the left, past Wagram, into the village of Stammersdorf on the right. Beyond their lines are spread out the darker-hued French, almost parallel to the Austrians.]
FRANCIS
Those moving masses toward the right I deem The forces of Klenau and Kollowrath, Sent to support Prince John of Lichtenstein I his attack that way?
[An interval.]
Now that they've gained The right there, why is not the attack begun?
OFFICER
They are beginning on the left wing, sire.
[The EMPEROR resumes his glass and beholds bodies of men descending from the hills by Neusiedel, and crossing the Russbach river towards the French--a movement which has been going on for some time.]
FRANCIS [turning thither]
Where we are weakest! It surpasses me To understand why was our centre thinned To pillar up our right already strong, Where nought is doing, while our left assault Stands ill-supported?
[Time passes in silence.]
Yes, it is so. See, The enemy strikes Rossenberg in flank, Compelling him to fall behind the Russbach!