Part 31
Now, what we notice front and foremost is That this convulsion speaks not, pictures not The heart of France. It comes of artifice-- From the unique and sinister influence Of a smart army-gamester--upon men Who have shared his own excitements, spoils, and crimes.-- This man, who calls himself most impiously The Emperor of France by Grace of God, Has, in the scale of human character, Dropt down so low, that he has set at nought All pledges, stipulations, guarantees, And stepped upon the only pedestal On which he cares to stand--his lawless will. Indeed, it is a fact scarce credible That so mysteriously in his own breast Did this adventurer lock the scheme he planned, That his companion Bertrand, chief in trust, Was unapprised thereof until the hour In which the order to embark was given!
I think the House will readily discern That the wise, wary trackway to be trod By our own country in the crisis reached, Must lie 'twixt two alternatives,--of war In concert with the Continental Powers, Or of an armed and cautionary course Sufficing for the present phase of things.
Whatever differences of view prevail On the so serious and impending question-- Whether in point of prudent reckoning 'Twere better let the power set up exist, Or promptly at the outset deal with it-- Still, to all eyes it is imperative That some mode of safeguardance be devised; And if I cannot range before the House, At this stage, all the reachings of the case, I will, if needful, on some future day Poise these nice matters on their merits here.
Meanwhile I have to move: That an address unto His Royal Highness Be humbly offered for his gracious message, And to assure him that his faithful Commons Are fully roused to the dark hazardries To which the life and equanimity Of Europe are exposed by deeds in France, In contravention of the plighted pacts At Paris in the course of yester-year.
That, in a cause of such wide-waked concern, It doth afford us real relief to know That concert with His Majesty's Allies Is being effected with no loss of time-- Such concert as will thoroughly provide For Europe's full and long security. [Cheers.]
That we, with zeal, will speed such help to him So to augment his force by sea and land As shall empower him to set afoot Swift measures meet for its accomplishing. [Cheers.]
BURDETT
It seems to me almost impossible, Weighing the language of the noble lord, To catch its counsel,--whether peace of war. [Hear, hear.] If I translate his words to signify The high expediency of watch and ward, That we may not be taken unawares, I own concurrence; but if he propose Too plunge this realm into a sea of blood To reinstate the Bourbon line in France, I should but poorly do my duty here Did I not lift my voice protestingly Against so ruinous an enterprise!
Sir, I am old enough to call to mind The first fierce frenzies for the selfsame end, The fruit of which was to endow this man, The object of your apprehension now, With such a might as could not be withstood By all of banded Europe, till he roamed And wrecked it wantonly on Russian plains. Shall, then, another score of scourging years Distract this land to make a Bourbon king? Wrongly has Bonaparte's late course been called A rude incursion on the soil of France.-- Who ever knew a sole and single man Invade a nation thirty million strong, And gain in some few days full sovereignty Against the nation's will!--The truth is this: The nation longed for him, and has obtained him....
I have beheld the agonies of war Through many a weary season; seen enough To make me hold that scarcely any goal Is worth the reaching by so red a road. No man can doubt that this Napoleon stands As Emperor of France by Frenchmen's wills. Let the French settle, then, their own affairs; I say we shall have nought to apprehend!--
Much as I might advance in proof of this, I'll dwell not thereon now. I am satisfied To give the general reasons which, in brief, Balk my concurrence in the Address proposed. [Cheers.]
PONSONBY
My words will be but few, for the Address Constrains me to support it as it stands. So far from being the primary step to war, Its sense and substance is, in my regard, To leave the House to guidance by events On the grave question of hostilities.
The statements of the noble lord, I hold, Have not been candidly interpreted By grafting on to them a headstrong will, As does the honourable baronet, To rob the French of Buonaparte's rule, And force them back to Bourbon monarchism. That our free land, at this abnormal time, Should put her in a pose of wariness, No unwarped mind can doubt. Must war revive, Let it be quickly waged; and quickly, too, Reach its effective end: though 'tis my hope, My ardent hope, that peace may be preserved.
WHITBREAD
Were it that I could think, as does my friend, That ambiguity of sentiment Informed the utterance of the noble lord [As oft does ambiguity of word], I might with satisfied and sure resolve Vote straight for the Address. But eyeing well The flimsy web there woven to entrap The credence of my honourable friends, I must with all my energy contest The wisdom of a new and hot crusade For fixing who shall fill the throne of France.
Already are the seeds of mischief sown: The Declaration at Vienna, signed Against Napoleon, is, in my regard, Abhorrent, and our country's character Defaced by our subscription to its terms! If words have any meaning it incites To sheer assassination; it proclaims That any meeting Bonaparte may slay him; And, whatso language the Allies now hold, In that outburst, at least, was war declared. The noble lord to-night would second it, Would seem to urge that we full arm, then wait For just as long, no longer, than would serve The preparations of the other Powers, And then--pounce down on France!
CASTLEREAGH
No, no! Not so.
WHITBREAD
Good God, then, what are we to understand?-- However, this denial is a gain, And my misapprehension owes its birth Entirely to that mystery of phrase Which taints all rhetoric of the noble lord,
Well, what is urged for new aggression now, To vamp up and replace the Bourbon line? The wittiest man who ever sat here[21] said That half our nation's debt had been incurred In efforts to suppress the Bourbon power, The other half in efforts to restore it, [laughter] And I must deprecate a further plunge For ends so futile! Why, since Ministers Craved peace with Bonaparte at Chatillon, Should they refuse him peace and quiet now?
This brief amendment therefore I submit To limit Ministers' aggressiveness And make self-safety all their chartering: “We at the same time earnestly implore That the Prince Regent graciously induce Strenuous endeavours in the cause of peace, So long as it be done consistently With the due honour of the English crown.” [Cheers.]
CASTLEREAGH
The arguments of Members opposite Posit conditions which experience proves But figments of a dream;--that honesty, Truth, and good faith in this same Bonaparte May be assumed and can be acted on: This of one who is loud to violate Bonds the most sacred, treaties the most grave!...
It follows not that since this realm was won To treat with Bonaparte at Chatillon, It can treat now. And as for assassination, The sentiments outspoken here to-night Are much more like to urge to desperate deeds Against the persons of our good Allies, Than are, against Napoleon, statements signed By the Vienna plenipotentiaries!
We are, in fine, too fully warranted On moral grounds to strike at Bonaparte, If we at any crisis reckon it Expedient so to do. The Government Will act throughout in concert with the Allies, And Ministers are well within their rights To claim that their responsibility Be not disturbed by hackneyed forms of speech [“Oh, oh”] Upon war's horrors, and the bliss of peace,-- Which none denies! [Cheers.]
PONSONBY
I ask the noble lord, If that his meaning and pronouncement be Immediate war?
CASTLEREAGH
I have not phrased it so.
OPPOSITION CRIES
The question is unanswered!
[There are excited calls, and the House divides. The result is announced as thirty-seven for WHITBREAD'S amendment, and against it two hundred and twenty. The clock strikes twelve as the House adjourns.]
## SCENE VI
WESSEX. DURNOVER GREEN, CASTERBRIDGE
[On a patch of green grass on Durnover Hill, in the purlieus of Casterbridge, a rough gallows has been erected, and an effigy of Napoleon hung upon it. Under the effigy are faggots of brushwood.
It is the dusk of a spring evening, and a great crowd has gathered, comprising male and female inhabitants of the Durnover suburb and villagers from distances of many miles. Also are present some of the county yeomanry in white leather breeches and scarlet, volunteers in scarlet with green facings, and the REVEREND MR. PALMER, vicar of the parish, leaning against the post of his garden door, and smoking a clay pipe of preternatural length. Also PRIVATE CANTLE from Egdon Heath, and SOLOMON LONGWAYS of Casterbridge. The Durnover band, which includes a clarionet, {serpent,} oboe, tambourine, cymbals, and drum, is playing “Lord Wellington's Hornpipe.”]
RUSTIC [wiping his face]
Says I, please God I'll lose a quarter to zee he burned! And I left Stourcastle at dree o'clock to a minute. And if I'd known that I should be too late to zee the beginning on't, I'd have lost a half to be a bit sooner.
YEOMAN
Oh, you be soon enough good-now. He's just going to be lighted.
RUSTIC
But shall I zee en die? I wanted to zee if he'd die hard,
YEOMAN
Why, you don't suppose that Boney himself is to be burned here?
RUSTIC
What--not Boney that's to be burned?
A WOMAN
Why, bless the poor man, no! This is only a mommet they've made of him, that's got neither chine nor chitlings. His innerds be only a lock of straw from Bridle's barton.
LONGWAYS
He's made, neighbour, of a' old cast jacket and breeches from our barracks here. Likeways Grammer Pawle gave us Cap'n Meggs's old Zunday shirt that she'd saved for tinder-box linnit; and Keeper Tricksey of Mellstock emptied his powder-horn into a barm-bladder, to make his heart wi'.
RUSTIC [vehemently]
Then there's no honesty left in Wessex folk nowadays at all! “Boney's going to be burned on Durnover Green to-night,”-- that was what I thought, to be sure I did, that he'd been catched sailing from his islant and landed at Budmouth and brought to Casterbridge Jail, the natural retreat of malefactors!--False deceivers--making me lose a quarter who can ill afford it; and all for nothing!
LONGWAYS
'Tisn't a mo'sel o' good for thee to cry out against Wessex folk, when 'twas all thy own stunpoll ignorance.
[The VICAR OF DURNOVER removes his pipe and spits perpendicularly.]
VICAR
My dear misguided man, you don't imagine that we should be so inhuman in this Christian country as to burn a fellow creature alive?
RUSTIC
Faith, I won't say I didn't! Durnover folk have never had the highest of Christian character, come to that. And I didn't know but that even a pa'son might backslide to such things in these gory times--I won't say on a Zunday, but on a week-night like this--when we think what a blasphemious rascal he is, and that there's not a more charnel-minded villain towards womenfolk in the whole world.
[The effigy has by this time been kindled, and they watch it burn, the flames making the faces of the crowd brass-bright, and lighting the grey tower of Durnover Church hard by.]
WOMAN [singing]
Bayonets and firelocks! I wouldn't my mammy should know't But I've been kissed in a sentry-box, Wrapped up in a soldier's coat!
PRIVATE CANTLE
Talk of backsliding to burn Boney, I can backslide to anything when my blood is up, or rise to anything, thank God for't! Why, I shouldn't mind fighting Boney single-handed, if so be I had the choice o' weapons, and fresh Rainbarrow flints in my flint-box, and could get at him downhill. Yes, I'm a dangerous hand with a pistol now and then!... Hark, what's that? [A horn is heard eastward on the London Road.] Ah, here comes the mail. Now we may learn something. Nothing boldens my nerves like news of slaughter!
[Enter mail-coach and steaming horses. It halts for a minute while the wheel is skidded and the horses stale.]
SEVERAL
What was the latest news from abroad, guard, when you left Piccadilly White-Horse-Cellar!
GUARD
You have heard, I suppose, that he's given up to public vengeance, by Gover'ment orders? Anybody may take his life in any way, fair or foul, and no questions asked. But Marshal Ney, who was sent to fight him, flung his arms round his neck and joined him with all his men. Next, the telegraph from Plymouth sends news landed there by _The Sparrow_, that he has reached Paris, and King Louis has fled. But the air got hazy before the telegraph had finished, and the name of the place he had fled to couldn't be made out.
[The VICAR OF DURNOVER blows a cloud of smoke, and again spits perpendicularly.]
VICAR
Well, I'm d--- Dear me--dear me! The Lord's will be done.
GUARD
And there are to be four armies sent against him--English, Proosian, Austrian, and Roosian: the first two under Wellington and Blücher. And just as we left London a show was opened of Boney on horseback as large as life, hung up with his head downwards. Admission one shilling; children half-price. A truly patriot spectacle!--Not that yours here is bad for a simple country-place.
[The coach drives on down the hill, and the crowd reflectively watches the burning.]
WOMAN [singing]
I
My Love's gone a-fighting Where war-trumpets call, The wrongs o' men righting Wi' carbine and ball, And sabre for smiting, And charger, and all
II
Of whom does he think there Where war-trumpets call? To whom does he drink there, Wi' carbine and ball On battle's red brink there, And charger, and all?
III
Her, whose voice he hears humming Where war-trumpets call, “I wait, Love, thy coming Wi' carbine and ball, And bandsmen a-drumming Thee, charger and all!”
[The flames reach the powder in the effigy, which is blown to rags. The band marches off playing “When War's Alarms,” the crowd disperses, the vicar stands musing and smoking at his garden door till the fire goes out and darkness curtains the scene.]
ACT SIXTH
## SCENE I
THE BELGIAN FRONTIER
[The village of Beaumont stands in the centre foreground of a birds'-eye prospect across the Belgian frontier from the French side, being close to the Sambre further back in the scene, which pursues a crinkled course between high banks from Maubeuge on the left to Charleroi on the right.
In the shadows that muffle all objects, innumerable bodies of infantry and cavalry are discerned bivouacking in and around the village. This mass of men forms the central column of NAPOLEONS'S army.
The right column is seen at a distance on that hand, also near the frontier, on the road leading towards Charleroi; and the left column by Solre-sur-Sambre, where the frontier and the river nearly coincide
The obscurity thins and the June dawn appears.]
DUMB SHOW
The bivouacs of the central column become broken up, and a movement ensues rightwards on Charleroi. The twelve regiments of cavalry which are in advance move off first; in half an hour more bodies move, and more in the next half-hour, till by eight o'clock the whole central army is gliding on. It defiles in strands by narrow tracks through the forest. Riding impatiently on the outskirts of the columns is MARSHAL NEY, who has as yet received no command.
As the day develops, sight and sounds to the left and right reveal that the two outside columns have also started, and are creeping towards the frontier abreast with the centre. That the whole forms one great movement, co-ordinated by one mind, now becomes apparent. Preceded by scouts the three columns converge.
The advance through dense woods by narrow paths takes time. The head of the middles and main column forces back some outposts, and reaches Charleroi, driving out the Prussian general ZIETEN. It seizes the bridge over the Sambre and blows up the gates of the town.
The point of observation now descends close to the scene.
In the midst comes the EMPEROR with the Sappers of the Guard, the Marines, and the Young Guard. The clatter brings the scared inhabitants to their doors and windows. Cheers arise from some of them as NAPOLEON passes up the steep street. Just beyond the town, in front of the Bellevue Inn, he dismounts. A chair is brought out, in which he sits and surveys the whole valley of the Sambre. The troops march past cheering him, and drums roll and bugles blow. Soon the EMPEROR is found to be asleep.
When the rattle of their passing ceases the silence wakes him. His listless eye falls upon a half-defaced poster on a wall opposite-- the Declaration of the Allies.
NAPOLEON [reading]
“... Bonaparte destroys the only legal title on which his existence depended.... He has deprived himself of the protection of the law, and has manifested to the Universe that there can be neither peace nor truce with him. The Powers consequently declare that Napoleon Bonaparte has placed himself without the pale of civil and social relations, and that as an enemy and disturber of the tranquillity of the world he has rendered himself liable to public vengeance.”
His flesh quivers, and he turns with a start, as if fancying that some one may be about to stab him in the back. Then he rises, mounts, and rides on.
Meanwhile the right column crosses the Sambre without difficulty at Chatelet, a little lower down; the left column at Marchienne a little higher up; and the three limbs combine into one vast army.
As the curtain of the mist is falling, the point of vision soars again, and there is afforded a brief glimpse of what is doing far away on the other side. From all parts of Europe long and sinister black files are crawling hitherward in serpentine lines, like slowworms through grass. They are the advancing armies of the Allies. The Dumb Show ends.
## SCENE II
A BALLROOM IN BRUSSELS[22]
[It is a June midnight at the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S. A band of stringed instruments shows in the background. The room is crowded with a brilliant assemblage of more than two hundred of the distinguished people sojourning in the city on account of the war and other reasons, and of local personages of State and fashion. The ball has opened with “The White Cockade.”
Among those discovered present either dancing or looking on are the DUKE and DUCHESS as host and hostess, their son and eldest daughter, the Duchess's brother, the DUKE OF WELLINGTON, the PRINCE OF ORANGE, the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK, BARON VAN CAPELLEN the Belgian Secretary of State, the DUKE OF ARENBERG, the MAYOR OF BRUSSELS, the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF BEAUFORT, GENERAL ALAVA, GENERAL OUDENARDE, LORD HILL, LORD AND LADY CONYNGHAM, SIR HENRY AND LADY SUSAN CLINTON, SIR H. AND LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE, SIR WILLIAM AND LADY DE LANCEY, LORD UXBRIDGE, SIR JOHN BYNG, LORD PORTARLINGTON, LORD EDWARD SOMERSET, LORD HAY, COLONEL ABERCROMBY, SIR HUSSEY VIVIAN, SIR A. GORDON, SIR W. PONSONBY, SIR DENIS PACK, SIR JAMES KEMPT, SIR THOMAS PICTON, GENERAL MAITLAND, COLONEL CAMERON, many other officers, English, Hanoverian, Dutch and Belgian ladies English and foreign, and Scotch reel-dancers from Highland regiments.
The “Hungarian Waltz” having also been danced, the hostess calls up the Highland soldiers to show the foreign guests what a Scotch reel is like. The men put their hands on their hips and tread it out briskly. While they stand aside and rest “The Hanoverian Dance” is called.
Enter LIEUTENANT WEBSTER, A.D.C. to the PRINCE OF ORANGE. The Prince goes apart with him and receives a dispatch. After reading it he speaks to WELLINGTON, and the two, accompanied by the DUKE OF RICHMOND, retire into an alcove with serious faces. WEBSTER, in passing back across the ballroom, exchanges a hasty word with two of three of the guests known to him, a young officer among them, and goes out.
YOUNG OFFICER [to partner]
The French have passed the Sambre at Charleroi!
PARTNER
What--does it mean the Bonaparte indeed Is bearing down upon us?
YOUNG OFFICER
That is so. The one who spoke to me in passing out Is Aide to the Prince of Orange, bringing him Dispatches from Rebecque, his chief of Staff, Now at the front, not far from Braine le Comte; He says that Ney, leading the French van-guard, Has burst on Quatre-Bras.
PARTNER
O horrid time! Will you, then, have to go and face him there?
YOUNG OFFICER
I shall, of course, sweet. Promptly too, no doubt. [He gazes about the room.] See--the news spreads; the dance is paralyzed. They are all whispering round. [The band stops.] Here comes one more, He's the attache from the Prussian force At our headquarters.
[Enter GENERAL MUFFLING. He looks prepossessed, and goes straight to WELLINGTON and RICHMOND in the alcove, who by this time have been joined by the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK.]
SEVERAL GUESTS [at back of room]
Yes, you see, it's true! The army will prepare to march at once.
PICTON [to another general]
I am damn glad we are to be off. Pottering about her pinned to petticoat tails--it does one no good, but blasted harm!
ANOTHER GUEST
The ball cannot go on, can it? Didn't the Duke know the French were so near? If he did, how could he let us run risks so coolly?
LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE [to partner]
A deep concern weights those responsible Who gather in the alcove. Wellington Affects a cheerfulness in outward port, But cannot rout his real anxiety!
[The DUCHESS OF RICHMOND goes to her husband.]
DUCHESS
Ought I to stop the ball? It hardly seems right to let it continue if all be true.
RICHMOND
I have put that very question to Wellington, my dear. He says that we need not hurry off the guests. The men have to assemble some time before the officers, who can stay on here a little longer without inconvenience; and he would prefer that they should, not to create a panic in the city, where the friends and spies of Napoleon are all agog for some such thing, which they would instantly communicate to him to take advantage of.
DUCHESS
Is it safe to stay on? Should we not be thinking about getting the children away?
RICHMOND
There's no hurry at all, even if Bonaparte were really sure to enter. But he's never going to set foot in Brussels--don't you imagine it for a moment.
DUCHESS [anxiously]
I hope not. But I wish we had never brought them here!
RICHMOND
It is too late, my dear, to wish that now. Don't be flurried; make the people go on dancing.
[The DUCHESS returns to her guests. The DUKE rejoins WELLINGTON, BRUNSWICK, MUFFLING, and the PRINCE OF ORANGE in the alcove.]
WELLINGTON
We need not be astride till five o'clock If all the men are marshalled well ahead. The Brussels citizens must not suppose They stand in serious peril... He, I think, Directs his main attack mistakenly; It should gave been through Mons, not Charleroi.
MUFFLING
The Austrian armies, and the Russian too, Will show nowhere in this. The thing that's done, Be it a historied feat or nine days' fizz, Will be done long before they join us here.
WELLINGTON