Part 5
There, there, Cantle; don't ye speak quite so large, and stand so over-upright. Your back is as holler as a fire-dog's. Do ye suppose that we on active service here don't know war news? Mind you don't go taking to your heels when the next alarm comes, as you did at last year's.
PRIVATE
That had nothing to do with fighting, for I'm as bold as a lion when I'm up, and “Shoulder Fawlocks!” sounds as common as my own name to me. 'Twas--- [lowering his voice.] Have ye heard?
OLD MAN
To be sure we have.
PRIVATE
Ghastly, isn't it!
OLD MAN
Ghastly! Frightful!
YOUNG MAN [to Private]
He don't know what it is! That's his pride and puffery. What is it that' so ghastly--hey?
PRIVATE
Well, there, I can't tell it. 'Twas that that made the whole eighty of our company run away--though we be the bravest of the brave in natural jeopardies, or the little boys wouldn't run after us and call us and call us the “Bang-up-Locals.”
WOMAN [in undertones]
I can tell you a word or two on't. It is about His victuals. They say that He lives upon human flesh, and has rashers o' baby every morning for breakfast--for all the world like the Cernal Giant in old ancient times!
YOUNG MAN
Ye can't believe all ye hear.
PRIVATE
I only believe half. And I only own--such is my challengeful character--that perhaps He do eat pagan infants when He's in the desert. But not Christian ones at home. Oh no--'tis too much.
WOMAN
Whether or no, I sometimes--God forgive me!--laugh wi' horror at the queerness o't, till I am that weak I can hardly go round the house. He should have the washing of 'em a few times; I warrant 'a wouldn't want to eat babies any more!
[A silence, during which they gaze around at the dark dome of the starless sky.]
YOUNG MAN
There'll be a change in the weather soon, by the look o't. I can hear the cows moo in Froom Valley as if I were close to 'em, and the lantern at Max Turnpike is shining quite plain.
OLD MAN
Well, come in and taste a drop o' sommat we've got here, that will warm the cockles of your heart as ye wamble homealong. We housed eighty tuns last night for them that shan't be named--landed at Lullwind Cove the night afore, though they had a narrow shave with the riding-officers this run.
[They make toward the hut, when a light on the west horizon becomes visible, and quickly enlarges.]
YOUNG MAN
He's come!
OLD MAN
Come he is, though you do say it! This, then, is the beginning of what England's waited for!
[They stand and watch the light awhile.]
YOUNG MAN
Just what you was praising the Lord for by-now, Private Cantle.
PRIVATE
My meaning was---
WOMAN [simpering]
Oh that I hadn't married a fiery sojer, to make me bring fatherless children into the world, all through his dreadful calling! Why didn't a man of no sprawl content me!
OLD MAN [shouldering his pike]
We can't heed your innocent pratings any longer, good neighbours, being in the King's service, and a hot invasion on. Fall in, fall in, mate. Straight to the tinder-box. Quick march!
[The two men hasten to the hut, and are heard striking a flint and steel. Returning with a lit lantern they ignite a blaze. The private of the Locals and his wife hastily retreat by the light of the flaming beacon, under which the purple rotundities of the heath show like bronze, and the pits like the eye-sockets of a skull.]
SPIRIT SINISTER
This is good, and spells blood. [To the Chorus of the Years.] I assume that It means to let us carry out this invasion with pleasing slaughter, so as not to disappoint my hope?
SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS [aerial music]
We carry out? Nay, but should we Ordain what bloodshed is to be it!
SEMICHORUS II
The Immanent, that urgeth all, Rules what may or may not befall!
SEMICHORUS I
Ere systemed suns were globed and lit The slaughters of the race were writ,
SEMICHORUS II
And wasting wars, by land and sea, Fixed, like all else, immutably!
SPIRIT SINISTER
Well; be it so. My argument is that War makes rattling good history; but Peace is poor reading. So I back Bonaparte for the reason that he will give pleasure to posterity.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Gross hypocrite!
CHORUS OF THE YEARS
We comprehend him not.
[The day breaks over the heathery upland, on which the beacon is still burning. The morning reveals the white surface of a highway which, coming from the royal watering-place beyond the hills, stretched towards the outskirts of the heath and passes away eastward.]
DUMB SHOW
Moving figures and vehicles dot the surface of the road, all progressing in one direction, away from the coast. In the foreground the shapes appear as those of civilians, mostly on foot, but many in gigs and tradesmen's carts and on horseback. When they reach an intermediate hill some pause and look back; others enter on the next decline landwards without turning their heads.
From the opposite horizon numerous companies of volunteers, in the local uniform of red with green facings,[5] are moving coastwards in companies; as are also irregular bodies of pikemen without uniform; while on the upper slopes of the downs towards the shore regiments of the line are visible, with cavalry and artillery; all passing over to the coast.
At a signal from the Chief Intelligences two Phantoms of Rumour enter on the highway in the garb of country-men.
FIRST PHANTOM [to Pedestrians]
Wither so fast, good neighbours, and before breakfast, too? Empty bellies be bad to vamp on.
FIRST PEDESTRIAN
He's landed west'ard, out by Abbot's Beach. And if you have property you'll save it and yourselves, as we are doing!
SECOND PEDESTRIAN
All yesterday the firing at Boulogne Was like the seven thunders heard in Heaven When the fierce angel spoke. So did he draw Full-manned, flat-bottomed for the shallowest shore, Dropped down to west, and crossed our frontage here. Seen from above they specked the water-shine As will a flight of swallows toward dim eve, Descending on a smooth and loitering stream To seek some eyot's sedge.
SECOND PHANTOM
We are sent to enlighten you and ease your soul. Even now a courier canters to the port To check the baseless scare.
FIRST PEDESTRIAN
These be inland men who, I warrant 'ee, don't know a lerret from a lighter! Let's take no heed of such, comrade; and hurry on!
FIRST PHANTOM
Will you not hear That what was seen behind the midnight mist, Their oar-blades tossing twinkles to the moon, Was but a fleet of fishing-craft belated By reason of the vastness of their haul?
FIRST PEDESTRIAN
Hey? And d'ye know it?--Now I look back to the top o' Rudgeway the folk seem as come to a pause there.--Be this true, never again do I stir my stumps for any alarm short of the Day of Judgment! Nine times has my rheumatical rest been broke in these last three years by hues and cries of Boney upon us. 'Od rot the feller; now he's made a fool of me once more, till my inside is like a wash-tub, what wi' being so gallied, and running so leery!--But how if you be one of the enemy, sent to sow these tares, so to speak it, these false tidings, and coax us into a fancied safety? Hey, neighbours? I don't, after all, care for this story!
SECOND PEDESTRIAN
Onwards again! If Boney's come, 'tis best to be away; And if he's not, why, we've a holiday!
[Exeunt Pedestrians. The Spirits of Rumour vanish, while the scene seems to become involved in the smoke from the beacon, and slowly disappears.[6]]
ACT THIRD
## SCENE I
BOULOGNE. THE CHATEAU AT PONT-DE-BRIQUES
[A room in the Chateau, which is used as the Imperial quarters. The EMPEROR NAPOLEON, and M. GASPARD MONGE, the mathematician and philosopher, are seated at breakfast.]
OFFICER
Monsieur the Admiral Decres awaits A moment's audience with your Majesty, Or now, or later.
NAPOLEON
Bid him in at once-- At last Villeneuve has raised the Brest blockade!
[Enter DECRES.]
What of the squadron's movements, good Decres? Brest opened, and all sailing Channelwards, Like swans into a creek at feeding-time?
DECRES
Such news was what I'd hoped, your Majesty, To send across this daybreak. But events Have proved intractable, it seems, of late; And hence I haste in person to report The featless facts that just have dashed my---
NAPOLEON [darkening]
Well?
DECRES
Sire, at the very juncture when the fleets Sailed out from Ferrol, fever raged aboard “L'Achille” and “l'Algeciras”: later on, Mischief assailed our Spanish comrades' ships; Several ran foul of neighbours; whose new hurts, Being added to their innate clumsiness, Gave hap the upper hand; and in quick course Demoralized the whole; until Villeneuve, Judging that Calder now with Nelson rode, And prescient of unparalleled disaster If he pushed on in so disjoint a trim, Bowed to the inevitable; and thus, perforce, Leaving to other opportunity Brest and the Channel scheme, with vast regret Steered southward into Cadiz.
NAPOLEON [having risen from the table]
What!--Is, then, My scheme of years to be disdained and dashed By this man's like, a wretched moral coward, Whom you must needs foist on me as one fit For full command in pregnant enterprise!
MONGE [aside]
I'm one too many here! Let me step out Till this black squall blows over. Poor Decres. Would that this precious project, disinterred From naval archives of King Louis' reign, Had ever lingered fusting where 'twas found.[7]
[Exit Monge.]
NAPOLEON
To help a friend you foul a country's fame!-- Decres, not only chose you this Villeneuve, But you have nourished secret sour opinions Akin to his, and thereby helped to scathe As stably based a project as this age Has sunned to ripeness. Ever the French Marine Have you decried, ever contrived to bring Despair into the fleet! Why, this Villeneuve, Your man, this rank incompetent, this traitor-- Of whom I asked no more than fight and lose, Provided he detain the enemy-- A frigate is too great for his command! what shall be said of one who, at a breath, When a few casual sailors find them sick, When falls a broken boom or slitten sail, When rumour hints that Calder's tubs and Nelson's May join, and bob about in company, Is straightway paralyzed, and doubles back On all his ripened plans!-- Bring him, ay, bodily; hale him out from Cadiz, Compel him up the Channel by main force, And, having doffed him his supreme command, Give the united squadrons to Ganteaume!
DECRES
Your Majesty, while umbraged, righteously, By an event my tongue dragged dry to tell, Makes my hard situation over-hard By your ascription to the actors in't Of motives such and such. 'Tis not for me To answer these reproaches, Sire, and ask Why years-long mindfulness of France's fame In things marine should win no confidence. I speak; but am unable to convince!
True is it that this man has been my friend Since boyhood made us schoolmates; and I say That he would yield the heel-drops of his heart With joyful readiness this day, this hour, To do his country service. Yet no less Is it his drawback that he sees too far. And there are times, Sire, when a shorter sight Charms Fortune more. A certain sort of bravery Some people have--to wit, this same Lord Nelson-- Which is but fatuous faith in one's own star Swoln to the very verge of childishness, [Smugly disguised as putting trust in God, A habit with these English folk]; whereby A headstrong blindness to contingencies Carries the actor on, and serves him well In some nice issues clearer sight would mar. Such eyeless bravery Villeneuve has not; But, Sire, he is no coward.
NAPOLEON
Well, have it so!--What are we going to do? My brain has only one wish--to succeed!
DECRES
My voice wanes weaker with you, Sire; is nought! Yet these few words, as Minister of Marine, I'll venture now.--My process would be thus:-- Our projects for a junction of the fleets Being well-discerned and read by every eye Through long postponement, England is prepared. I would recast them. Later in the year Form sundry squadrons of this massive one, Harass the English till the winter time, Then rendezvous at Cadiz; where leave half To catch the enemy's eye and call their cruizers, While rounding Scotland with the other half, You make the Channel by the eastern strait, Cover the passage of our army-boats, And plant the blow.
NAPOLEON
And what if they perceive Our Scottish route, and meet us eastwardly?
DECRES
I have thought of it, and planned a countermove; I'll write the scheme more clearly and at length, And send it hither to your Majesty.
NAPOLEON
Do so forthwith; and send me in Daru.
[Exit DECRES. Re-enter MONGE.]
Our breakfast, Monge, to-day has been cut short, And these discussions on the ancient tongues Wherein you shine, must yield to modern moils. Nay, hasten not away; though feeble wills, Incompetence, ay, imbecility, In some who feign to serve the cause of France, Do make me other than myself just now!-- Ah--here's Daru.
[DARU enters. MONGE takes his leave.]
Daru, sit down and write. Yes, here, at once, This room will serve me now. What think you, eh? Villeneuve has just turned tail and run to Cadiz. So quite postponed--perhaps even overthrown-- My long-conned project against yonder shore As 'twere a juvenile's snow-built device But made for melting! Think of it, Daru,-- My God, my God, how can I talk thereon! A plan well judged, well charted, well upreared, To end in nothing!... Sit you down and write.
[NAPOLEON walks up and down, and resumes after a silence.]
Write this.--A volte-face 'tis indeed!--Write, write!
DARU [holding pen to paper]
I wait, your Majesty.
NAPOLEON
First Bernadotte-- Yes; “Bernadotte moves out from Hanover Through Hesse upon Wurzburg and the Danube.-- Marmont from Holland bears along the Rhine, And joins at Mainz and Wurzburg Bernadotte...
While these prepare their routes the army here Will turn its back on Britain's tedious shore, And, closing up with Augereau at Brest, Set out full force due eastward.... By the Black forest feign a straight attack, The while our purpose is to skirt its left, Meet in Franconia Bernadotte and Marmont; Traverse the Danube somewhat down from Ulm; Entrap the Austrian column by their rear; Surround them, cleave them; roll upon Vienna, Where, Austria settled, I engage the Tsar, While Massena detains in Italy The Archduke Charles.
Foreseeing such might shape, Each high-and by-way to the Danube hence I have of late had measured, mapped, and judged; Such spots as suit for depots chosen and marked; Each regiment's daily pace and bivouac Writ tablewise for ready reference; All which itineraries are sent herewith.”
So shall I crush the two gigantic sets Upon the Empire, now grown imminent. --Let me reflect.--First Bernadotte---but nay, The courier to Marmont must go first. Well, well.--The order of our march from hence I will advise.... My knock at George's door With bland inquiries why his royal hand Withheld due answer to my friendly lines, And tossed the irksome business to his clerks, Is thus perforce delayed. But not for long. Instead of crossing, thitherward I tour By roundabout contrivance not less sure!
DARU
I'll bring the writing to your Majesty.
[NAPOLEON and DARU go out severally.]
CHORUS OF THE YEARS [aerial music]
Recording Angel, trace This bold campaign his thought has spun apace-- One that bids fair for immortality Among the earthlings--if immortal deeds May be ascribed to so extemporary And transient a race! It will be called, in rhetoric and rhyme, As son to sire succeeds, A model for the tactics of all time; “The Great Campaign of that so famed year Five,” By millions of mankind not yet alive.
## SCENE II
THE FRONTIERS OF UPPER AUSTRIA AND BAVARIA
[A view of the country from mid-air, at a point south of the River Inn, which is seen as a silver thread, winding northward between its junction with the Salza and the Danube, and forming the boundaries of the two countries. The Danube shows itself as a crinkled satin riband, stretching from left to right in the far background of the picture, the Inn discharging its waters into the larger river.]
DUMB SHOW
A vast Austrian army creeps dully along the mid-distance, in the detached masses and columns of a whitish cast. The columns insensibly draw nearer to each other, and are seen to be converging from the east upon the banks of the Inn aforesaid.
A RECORDING ANGEL [in recitative]
This movement as of molluscs on a leaf, Which from our vantage here we scan afar, Is one manoeuvred by the famous Mack To countercheck Napoleon, still believed To be intent on England from Boulogne, And heedless of such rallies in his rear. Mack's enterprise is now to cross Bavaria-- Beneath us stretched in ripening summer peace As field unwonted for these ugly jars--
Outraged Bavaria, simmering in disquiet At Munich down behind us, Isar-fringed, And torn between his fair wife's hate of France And his own itch to gird at Austrian bluff For riding roughshod through his territory, Wavers from this to that. The while Time hastes The eastward streaming of Napoleon's host, As soon we see.
The silent insect-creep of the Austrian columns towards the banks of the Inn continues to be seen till the view fades to nebulousness and dissolves.
## SCENE III
BOULOGNE. THE ST. OMER ROAD
[It is morning at the end of August, and the road stretches out of the town eastward.
The divisions of the “Army-for-England” are making preparations to march. Some portions are in marching order. Bands strike up, and the regiments start on their journey towards the Rhine and Danube. Bonaparte and his officers watch the movements from an eminence. The soldiers, as they pace along under their eagles with beaming eyes, sing “Le Chant du Depart,” and other martial songs, shout “Vive l'Empereur!” and babble of repeating the days of Italy, Egypt, Marengo, and Hohenlinden.]
NAPOLEON
Anon to England!
CHORUS OF INTELLIGENCES [aerial music]
If Time's weird threads so weave!
[The scene as it lingers exhibits the gradual diminishing of the troops along the roads through the undulating August landscape, till each column is seen but as a train of dust; and the disappearance of each marching mass over the eastern horizon.]
ACT FOURTH
## SCENE I
KING GEORGE'S WATERING-PLACE, SOUTH WESSEX
[A sunny day in autumn. A room in the red-brick royal residence know as Gloucester Lodge.[8]
At a front triple-lighted window stands a telescope on a tripod. Through the open middle sash is visible the crescent-curved expanse of the Bay as a sheet of brilliant translucent green, on which ride vessels of war at anchor. On the left hand white cliffs stretch away till they terminate in St. Aldhelm's Head, and form a background to the level water-line on that side. In the centre are the open sea and blue sky. A near headland rises on the right, surmounted by a battery, over which appears the remoter bald grey brow of the Isle of Slingers.
In the foreground yellow sands spread smoothly, whereon there are sundry temporary erections for athletic sports; and closer at hand runs an esplanade on which a fashionable crowd is promenading. Immediately outside the Lodge are companies of soldiers, groups of officers, and sentries.
Within the room the KING and PITT are discovered. The KING'S eyes show traces of recent inflammation, and the Minister has a wasted look.]
KING
Yes, yes; I grasp your reasons, Mr. Pitt, And grant you audience gladly. More than that, Your visit to this shore is apt and timely, And if it do but yield you needful rest From fierce debate, and other strains of office Which you and I in common have to bear, 'Twill be well earned. The bathing is unmatched Elsewhere in Europe,--see its mark on me!-- The air like liquid life.--But of this matter: What argue these late movements seen abroad? What of the country now the session's past; What of the country, eh? and of the war?
PITT
The thoughts I have laid before your Majesty Would make for this, in sum:-- That Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, and their friends, Be straightway asked to join. With Melville gone, With Sidmouth, and with Buckinghamshire too, The steerage of affairs has stood of late Somewhat provisional, as you, sir, know, With stop-gap functions thrust on offices Which common weal can tolerate but awhile. So, for the weighty reasons I have urged, I do repeat my most respectful hope To win your Majesty's ungrudged assent To what I have proposed.
KING
But nothing, sure, Has been more plain to all, dear Mr. Pitt, Than that your own proved energy and scope Is ample, without aid, to carry on Our just crusade against the Corsican. Why, then, go calling Fox and Grenville in? Such helps we need not. Pray you think upon't, And speak to me again.--We've had alarms Making us skip like crackers at our heels, That Bonaparte had landed close hereby.
PITT
Such rumours come as regularly as harvest.
KING
And now he has left Boulogne with all his host? Was it his object to invade at all, Or was his vast assemblage there a blind?
PITT
Undoubtedly he meant invasion, sir, Had fortune favoured. He may try it yet. And, as I said, could we but close with Fox---
KING
But, but;--I ask, what is his object now? Lord Nelson's Captain--Hardy--whose old home Stands in a peaceful vale hard by us here-- Who came two weeks ago to see his friends, I talked to in this room a lengthy while. He says our navy still is in thick night As to the aims by sea of Bonaparte Now the Boulogne attempt has fizzled out, And what he schemes afloat with Spain combined. The “Victory” lay that fortnight at Spithead, And Nelson since has gone aboard and sailed; Yes, sailed again. The “Royal Sovereign” follows, And others her. Nelson was hailed and cheered To huskiness while leaving Southsea shore, Gentle and simple wildly thronging round.
PITT
Ay, sir. Young women hung upon his arm, And old ones blessed, and stroked him with their hands.
KING
Ah--you have heard, of course. God speed him, Pitt.
PITT
Amen, amen!
KING
I read it as a thing Of signal augury, and one which bodes Heaven's confidence in me and in my line, That I should rule as King in such an age!... Well, well.--So this new march of Bonaparte's Was unexpected, forced perchance on him?
PITT
It may be so, your Majesty; it may. Last noon the Austrian ambassador, Whom I consulted ere I posted down, Assured me that his latest papers word How General Mack and eighty thousand men Have made good speed across Bavaria To wait the French and give them check at Ulm, That fortress-frontier-town, entrenched and walled, A place long chosen as a vantage-point Whereon to encounter them as they outwind From the blind shades and baffling green defiles Of the Black Forest, worn with wayfaring. Here Mack will intercept his agile foe Hasting to meet the Russians in Bohemia, And cripple him, if not annihilate.