Part 35
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 In Heaven's name! I've no reinforcements here, As he should know.
AIDE [hesitating]
What's to be done, your Grace?
WELLINGTON
Done? Those he has left him, be they many or few, Fight till they fall, like others in the field!
[Exit aide. The Quartermaster-General DE LANCEY, riding by WELLINGTON, is struck by a lobbing shot that hurls him over the head of his horse. WELLINGTON and others go to him.]
DE LANCEY [faintly]
I may as well be left to die in peace!
WELLINGTON
He may recover. Take him to the rear, And call the best attention up to him.
[DE LANCEY is carried off. The next moment a shell bursts close to WELLINGTON.]
HILL [approaching]
I strongly feel you stand too much exposed!
WELLINGTON
I know, I know. It matters not one damn! I may as well be shot as not perceive What ills are raging here.
HILL
Conceding such, And as you may be ended momently, A truth there is no blinking, what commands Have you to leave me, should fate shape it so?
WELLINGTON
These simply: to hold out unto the last, As long as one man stands on one lame leg With one ball in his pouch!--then end as I.
[He rides on slowly with the others. NEY'S charges, though fruitless so far, are still fierce. His troops are now reduced to one-half. Regiments of the BACHELU division, and the JAMIN brigade, are at last moved up to his assistance. They are partly swept down by the Allied batteries, and partly notched away by the infantry, the smoke being now so thick that the position of the battalions is revealed only by the flashing of the priming- pans and muzzles, and by the furious oaths heard behind the cloud. WELLINGTON comes back. Enter another aide-de-camp.]
AIDE
We bow to the necessity of saying That our brigade is lessened to one-third, Your Grace. And those who are left alive of it Are so unmuscled by fatigue and thirst That some relief, however temporary, Becomes sore need.
WELLINGTON
Inform your general That his proposal asks the impossible! That he, I, every Englishman afield, Must fall upon the spot we occupy, Our wounds in front.
AIDE
It is enough, your Grace. I answer for't that he, those under him, And I withal, will bear us as you say.
[Exit aide. The din of battle goes on. WELLINGTON is grave but calm. Like those around him, he is splashed to the top of his hat with partly dried mire, mingled with red spots; his face is grimed in the same way, little courses showing themselves where the sweat has trickled down from his brow and temples.]
CLINTON [to Hill]
A rest would do our chieftain no less good, In faith, than that unfortunate brigade! He is tried damnably; and much more strained Than I have ever seen him.
HILL
Endless risks He's running likewise. What the hell would happen If he were shot, is more than I can say!
WELLINGTON [calling to some near]
At Talavera, Salamanca, boys, And at Vitoria, we saw smoke together; And though the day seems wearing doubtfully, Beaten we must not be! What would they say Of us at home, if so?
A CRY [from the French]
Their centre breaks! Vive l'Empereur!
[It comes from the FOY and BACHELU divisions, which are rushing forward. HALKETT'S and DUPLAT'S brigades intercept. DUPLAT falls, shot dead; but the venturesome French regiments, pierced with converging fires, and cleft with shells, have to retreat.]
HILL [joining Wellington]
The French artillery-fire To the right still renders regiments restive there That have to stand. The long exposure galls them.
WELLINGTON
They must be stayed as our poor means afford. I have to bend attention steadfastly Upon the centre here. The game just now Goes all against us; and if staunchness fail But for one moment with these thinning foot, Defeat succeeds!
[The battle continues to sway hither and thither with concussions, wounds, smoke, the fumes of gunpowder, and the steam from the hot viscera of grape-torn horses and men. One side of a Hanoverian square is blown away; the three remaining sides form themselves into a triangle. So many of his aides are cut down that it is difficult for WELLINGTON to get reports of what is happening afar. It begins to be discovered at the front that a regiment of hussars, and others without ammunition, have deserted, and that some officers in the rear, honestly concluding the battle to be lost, are riding quietly off to Brussels. Those who are left unwounded of WELLINGTON'S staff show gloomy misgivings at such signs, despite their own firmness.]
SPIRIT SINISTER
One needs must be a ghost To move here in the midst 'twixt host and host! Their balls scream brisk and breezy tunes through me As I were an organ-stop. It's merry so; What damage mortal flesh must undergo!
[A Prussian officer enters to MUFFLING, who has again rejoined the DUKE'S suite. MUFFLING hastens forward to WELLINGTON.]
MUFFLING
Blücher has just begun to operate; But owing to Gneisenau's stolid stagnancy The body of our army looms not yet! As Zieten's corps still plod behind Smohain Their coming must be late. Blücher's attack Strikes the remote right rear of the enemy, Somewhere by Plancenoit.
WELLINGTON
A timely blow; But would that Zieten sped! Well, better late Than never. We'll still stand.
[The point of observation shifts.]
## SCENE VIII
THE SAME. LATER
[NEY'S long attacks on the centre with cavalry having failed, those left of the squadrons and their infantry-supports fall back pell-mell in broken groups across the depression between the armies.
Meanwhile BULOW, having engaged LOBAU'S Sixth Corps, carries Plancenoit.
The artillery-fire between the French and the English continues. An officer of the Third Foot-guards comes up to WELLINGTON and those of his suite that survive.]
OFFICER
Our Colonel Canning--coming I know not whence--
WELLINGTON
I lately sent him with important words To the remoter lines.
OFFICER
As he returned A grape-shot struck him in the breast; he fell, At once a dead man. General Halkett, too, Has had his cheek shot through, but still keeps going.
WELLINGTON
And how proceeds De Lancey?
OFFICER
I am told That he forbids the surgeons waste their time On him, who well can wait till worse are eased.
WELLINGTON
A noble fellow.
[NAPOLEON can now be seen, across the valley, pushing forward a new scheme of some sort, urged to it obviously by the visible nearing of further Prussian corps. The EMPEROR is as critically situated as WELLINGTON, and his army is now formed in a right angle [“en potence”], the main front to the English, the lesser to as many of the Prussians as have yet arrived. His gestures show him to be giving instructions of desperate import to a general whom he has called up.]
SPIRIT IRONIC
He bids La Bedoyere to speed away Along the whole sweep of the surging line, And there announce to the breath-shotten bands Who toil for a chimaera trustfully, With seventy pounds of luggage on their loins, That the dim Prussian masses seen afar Are Grouchy's three-and-thirty thousand, come To clinch a victory.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
But Ney demurs!
SPIRIT IRONIC
Ney holds indignantly that such a feint Is not war-worthy. Says Napoleon then, Snuffing anew, with sour sardonic scowl, That he is choiceless.
SPIRIT SINISTER
Excellent Emperor! He tops all human greatness; in that he To lesser grounds of greatness adds the prime, Of being without a conscience.
[LA BEDOYERE and orderlies start on their mission. The false intelligence is seen to spread, by the excited motion of the columns, and the soldiers can be heard shouting as their spirits revive.
WELLINGTON is beginning to discern the features of the coming onset, when COLONEL FRASER rides up.]
FRASER
We have just learnt from a deserting captain, One of the carabineers who charged of late, That an assault which dwarfs all instances-- The whole Imperial Guard in welded weight-- Is shortly to be made.
WELLINGTON
For your smart speed My thanks. My observation is confirmed. We'll hasten now along the battle-line [to Staff], As swiftest means for giving orders out Whereby to combat this.
[The speaker, accompanied by HILL, UXBRIDGE, and others--all now looking as worn and besmirched as the men in the ranks--proceed along the lines, and dispose the brigades to meet the threatened shock. The infantry are brought out of the shelter they have recently sought, the cavalry stationed in the rear, and the batteries of artillery hitherto kept in reserve are moved to the front.
The last Act of the battle begins.
There is a preliminary attack by DONZELOT'S columns, combined with swarms of sharpshooters, to the disadvantage of the English and their Allies. WELLINGTON has scanned it closely. FITZROY SOMERSET, his military secretary, comes up.]
WELLINGTON
What casualty has thrown its shade among The regiments of Nassau, to shake them so?
SOMERSET
The Prince of Orange has been badly struck-- A bullet through his shoulder--so they tell; And Kielmansegge has shown some signs of stress. Kincaird's tried line wanes leaner and more lean-- Whittled to a weak skein of skirmishers; The Twenty-seventh lie dead.
WELLINGTON
Ah yes--I know!
[While they watch developments a cannon-shot passes and knocks SOMERSET'S right arm to a mash. He is assisted to the rear.
NEY and FRIANT now lead forward the last and most desperate assault of the day, in charges of the Old and Middle Guard, the attack by DONZELOT and ALLIX further east still continuing as a support. It is about a quarter-past eight, and the midsummer evening is fine after the wet night and morning, the sun approaching its setting in a sky of gorgeous colours.
The picked and toughened Guard, many of whom stood in the ranks at Austerlitz and Wagram, have been drawn up in three or four echelons, the foremost of which now advances up the slopes to the Allies' position. The others follow at intervals, the drummers beating the “pas de charge.”]
CHORUS OF RUMOURS [aerial music]
Twice thirty throats of couchant cannonry-- Ranked in a hollow curve, to close their blaze Upon the advancing files--wait silently Like to black bulls at gaze.
The Guard approaches nearer and more near: To touch-hole moves each match of smoky sheen: The ordnance roars: the van-ranks disappear As if wiped off the scene.
The aged Friant falls as it resounds; Ney's charger drops--his fifth on this sore day-- Its rider from the quivering body bounds And forward foots his way.
The cloven columns tread the English height, Seize guns, repulse battalions rank by rank, While horse and foot artillery heavily bite Into their front and flank.
It nulls the power of a flesh-built frame To live within that zone of missiles. Back The Old Guard, staggering, climbs to whence it came. The fallen define its track.
[The second echelon of the Imperial Guard has come up to the assault. Its columns have borne upon HALKETT'S right. HALKETT, desperate to keep his wavering men firm, himself seizes and waves the flag of the Thirty-third, in which act he falls wounded. But the men rally. Meanwhile the Fifty-second, covered by the Seventy-first, has advanced across the front, and charges the Imperial Guard on the flank.
The third echelon next arrives at the English lines and squares; rushes through the very focus of their fire, and seeing nothing more in front, raises a shout.
IMPERIAL GUARD
The Emperor! It's victory!
WELLINGTON
Stand up, Guards! Form line upon the front face of the square!
[Two thousand of MAITLAND'S Guards, hidden in the hollow roadway, thereupon spring up, form as ordered, and reveal themselves as a fence of leveled firelocks four deep. The flints click in a multitude, the pans flash, and volley after volley is poured into the bear-skinned figures of the massed French, who kill COLONEL D'OYLEY in returning fire.]
WELLINGTON
Now drive the fellows in! Go on; go on! You'll do it now!
[COLBORNE converges on the French guard with the Fifty-second, and The former splits into two as the climax comes. ADAM, MAITLAND, and COLBORNE pursue their advantage. The Imperial columns are broken, and their confusion is increased by grape-shot from BOLTON'S battery.]
Campbell, this order next: Vivian's hussars are to support, and bear Against the cavalry towards Belle Alliance. Go--let him know.
[Sir C. CAMPBELL departs with the order. Soon VIVIAN'S and VANDELEUR'S light horse are seen advancing, and in due time the French cavalry are rolled back.
WELLINGTON goes in the direction of the hussars with UXBRIDGE. A cannon-shot hisses past.]
UXBRIDGE [starting]
I have lost my leg, by God!
WELLINGTON
By God, and have you! Ay--the wind o' the shot Blew past the withers of my Copenhagen Like the foul sweeping of a witch's broom.-- Aha--they are giving way!
[While UXBRIDGE is being helped to the rear, WELLINGTON makes a sign to SALTOUN, Colonel of the First Footguards.]
SALTOUN [shouting]
Boys, now's your time; Forward and win!
FRENCH VOICES
The Guard gives way--we are beaten!
[They recede down the hill, carrying confusion into NAPOLEON'S centre just as the Prussians press forward at a right angle from the other side of the field. NAPOLEON is seen standing in the hollow beyond La Haye Sainte, alone, except for the presence of COUNT FLAHAULT, his aide-de-camp. His lips move with sudden exclamation.
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
He says “Now all is lost! The clocks of the world Strike my last empery-hour.”