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The Dynasts

T >> Thomas Hardy >> The Dynasts





IV

Shall we once again there meet them?
Falter fond attempts to greet them?
Will the gay sling-jacket(20) glow again beside the muslin gown?--
Will they archly quiz and con us
With a sideways glance upon us,
While our spurs CLINK! CLINK! up the Esplanade and down?

[Applause from the other hussars. More songs are sung, the night
gets darker, the fires go out, and the camp sleeps.]



SCENE II

THE SAME, FROM THE PUEBLA HEIGHTS

[It is now day; but a summer fog pervades the prospect. Behind
the fog is heard the roll of bass and tenor drums and the clash
of cymbals, with notes of the popular march "The Downfall of Paris."

By degrees the fog lifts, and the Plain is disclosed. From this
elevation, gazing north, the expanse looks like the palm of a
monstrous right hand, a little hollowed, some half-dozen miles
across, wherein the ball of the thumb is roughly represented by
heights to the east, on which the French centre has gathered; the
"Mount of Mars" and the "Moon" (the opposite side of the palm) by
the position of the English on the left or west of the plain;
and the "Line of Life" by the Zadorra, an unfordable river running
from the town down the plain, and dropping out of it through a
pass in the Puebla Heights to the south, just beneath our point
of observation--that is to say, toward the wrist of the supposed
hand. The left of the English army under GRAHAM would occupy the
"mounts" at the base of the fingers; while the bent finger-tips
might represent the Cantabrian Hills beyond the plain to the north
or back of the scene.

From the aforesaid stony crests of Puebla the white town and
church towers of Vitoria can be descried on a slope to the right-
rear of the field of battle. A warm rain succeeds the fog for a
short while, bringing up the fragrant scents from fields, vineyards,
and gardens, now in the full leafage of June.]


DUMB SHOW

All the English forces converge forward--that is, eastwardly--the
centre over the ridges, the right through the Pass to the south, the
left down the Bilbao road on the north-west, the bands of the divers
regiments striking up the same quick march, "The Downfall of Paris."


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

You see the scene. And yet you see it not.
What do you notice now?


There immediately is shown visually the electric state of mind that
animates WELLINGTON, GRAHAM, HILL, KEMPT, PICTON, COLVILLE, and other
responsible ones on the British side; and on the French KING JOSEPH
stationary on the hill overlooking his own centre, and surrounded by
a numerous staff that includes his adviser MARSHAL JOURDAN, with,
far away in the field, GAZAN, D'ERLON, REILLE, and other marshals.
This vision, resembling as a whole the interior of a beating brain
lit by phosphorescence, in an instant fades back to normal.


Anon we see the English hussars with their flying pelisses galloping
across the Zadorra on one of the Tres-Puentes in the midst of the
field, as had been planned, the English lines in the foreground under
HILL pushing the enemy up the slopes; and far in the distance, to the
left of Vitoria, whiffs of grey smoke followed by low rumbles show
that the left of the English army under GRAHAM is pushing on there.

Bridge after bridge of the half-dozen over the Zadorra is crossed by
the British; and WELLINGTON, in the centre with PICTON, seeing the
hill and village of Arinez in front of him (eastward) to be weakly
held, carries the regiments of the seventh and third divisions in a
quick run towards it. Supported by the hussars, they ultimately
fight their way to the top, in a chaos of smoke, flame, and booming
echoes, loud-voiced PICTON, in an old blue coat and round hat,
swearing as he goes.

Meanwhile the French who are opposed to the English right, in the
foreground, have been turned by HILL; the heights are all abandoned,
and the columns fall back in a confused throng by the road to
Vitoria, hard pressed by the British, who capture abandoned guns
amid indescribable tumult, till the French make a stand in front
of the town.


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

What's toward in the distance?--say!


SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS (aerial music)

Fitfully flash strange sights there; yea,
Unwonted spectacles of sweat and scare
Behind the French, that make a stand
With eighty cannon, match in hand.--
Upon the highway from the town to rear
An eddy of distraction reigns,
Where lumbering treasure, baggage-trains,
Padding pedestrians, haze the atmosphere.


SEMICHORUS II

Men, women, and their children fly,
And when the English over-high
Direct their death-bolts, on this billowy throng
Alight the too far-ranging balls,
Wringing out piteous shrieks and calls
From the pale mob, in monotones loud and long.


SEMICHORUS I

To leftward of the distant din
Reille meantime has been driven in
By Graham's measure overmastering might.--
Henceforward, masses of the foe
Withdraw, and, firing as they go,
Pass rightwise from the cockpit out of sight.


CHORUS

The sunset slants an ochreous shine
Upon the English knapsacked line,
Whose glistering bayonets incline
As bends the hot pursuit across the plain;
And tardily behind them goes
Too many a mournful load of those
Found wound-weak; while with stealthy crawl,
As silence wraps the rear of all,
Cloaked creatures of the starlight strip the slain.



SCENE III

THE SAME. THE ROAD FROM THE TOWN

[With the going down of the sun the English army finds itself in
complete possession of the mass of waggons and carriages distantly
beheld from the rear--laden with pictures, treasure, flour,
vegetables, furniture, finery, parrots, monkeys, and women--most
of the male sojourners in the town having taken to their heels
and disappeared across the fields.

The road is choked with these vehicles, the women they carry
including wives, mistresses, actresses, dancers, nuns, and
prostitutes, which struggle through droves of oxen, sheep, goats,
horses, asses, and mules-- a Noah's-ark of living creatures in
one vast procession.

There enters rapidly in front of this throng a carriage containing
KING JOSEPH BONAPARTE and an attendant, followed by another vehicle
with luggage.]


JOSEPH (inside carriage)

The bare unblinking truth hereon is this:
The Englishry are a pursuing army,
And we a flying brothel! See our men--
They leave their guns to save their mistresses!

[The carriage is fired upon from outside the scene. The KING leaps
from the vehicle and mounts a horse.

Enter at full gallop from the left CAPTAIN WYNDHAM and a detachment
of the Tenth Hussars in chase of the King's carriage; and from the
right a troop of French dragoons, who engage with the hussars and
hinder pursuit. Exit KING JOSEPH on horseback; afterwards the
hussars and dragoons go out fighting.

The British infantry enter irregularly, led by a sergeant of the
Eighty-seventh, mockingly carrying MARSHAL JOURDAN'S baton. The
crowd recedes. The soldiers ransack the King's carriages, cut
from their frames canvases by Murillo, Velasquez, and Zurbaran,
and use them as package-wrappers, throwing the papers and archives
into the road.

They next go to a waggon in the background, which contains a large
chest. Some of the soldiers burst it with a crash. It is full of
money, which rolls into the road. The soldiers begin scrambling,
but are restored to order; and they march on.

Enter more companies of infantry, out of control of their officers,
who are running behind. They see the dollars, and take up the
scramble for them; next ransacking other waggons and abstracting
therefrom uniforms, ladies raiment, jewels, plate, wines, and
spirits.

Some array them in the finery, and one soldier puts on a diamond
necklace; others load themselves with the money still lying about
the road. It begins to rain, and a private who has lost his kit
cuts a hole in the middle of a deframed old master, and, putting
it over his head, wears it as a poncho.

Enter WELLINGTON and others, grimy and perspiring.]


FIRST OFFICER

The men are plundering in all directions!


WELLINGTON

Let 'em. They've striven long and gallantly.
--What documents do I see lying there?


SECOND OFFICER (examining)

The archives of King Joseph's court, my lord;
His correspondence, too, with Bonaparte.


WELLINGTON

We must examine it. It may have use.

[Another company of soldiers enters, dragging some equipages that
have lost their horses by the traces being cut. The carriages
contain ladies, who shriek and weep at finding themselves captives.]

What women bring they there?


THIRD OFFICER

Mixed sorts, my lord.
The wives of many young French officers,
The mistresses of more--in male attire.
Yon elegant hussar is one, to wit;
She so disguised is of a Spanish house,--
One of the general's loves.


WELLINGTON

Well, pack them off
To-morrow to Pamplona, as you can;
We've neither list nor leisure for their charms.
By God, I never saw so many wh---s
In all my life before!

[Exeunt WELLINGTON, officers, and infantry. A soldier enters with
his arm round a lady in rich costume.]


SOLDIER

We must be married, my dear.


LADY (not knowing his language)

Anything, sir, if you'll spare my life!


SOLDIER

There's neither parson nor clerk here. But that don't matter--hey?


LADY

Anything, sir, if you'll spare my life!


SOLDIER

And if we've got to unmarry at cockcrow, why, so be it--hey?


LADY

Anything, sir, if you'll spare my life!


SOLDIER

A sensible 'ooman, whatever it is she says; that I can see by her
pretty face. Come along then, my dear. There'll be no bones broke,
and we'll take our lot with Christian resignation.

[Exeunt soldier and lady. The crowd thins away as darkness closes
in, and the growling of artillery ceases, though the wheels of the
flying enemy are still heard in the distance. The fires kindled
by the soldiers as they make their bivouacs blaze up in the gloom,
and throw their glares a long way, revealing on the slopes of the
hills many suffering ones who have not yet been carried in.
The last victorious regiment comes up from the rear, fifing and
drumming ere it reaches its resting-place the last bars of "The
Downfall of Paris":--

Transcriber's Note: There follows in musical notation four bars
from that song in 2/4 time, key of C--

\\E EF G F\E EF G F\E EC D DB\C \\



SCENE IV

A FETE AT VAUXHALL

[It is the Vitoria festival at Vauxhall. The orchestra of the
renowned gardens exhibits a blaze of lamps and candles arranged
in the shape of a temple, a great artificial sun glowing at the
top, and under it in illuminated characters the words "Vitoria"
and "Wellington." The band is playing the new air "The Plains
of Vitoria."

All round the colonnade of the rotunda are to be read in the
illumination the names of Peninsular victories, underneath them
figuring the names of British and Spanish generals who led at
those battles, surmounted by wreaths of laurel The avenues
stretching away from the rotunda into the gardens charm the eyes
with their mild multitudinous lights, while festoons of lamps
hang from the trees elsewhere, and transparencies representing
scenes from the war.

The gardens and saloons are crowded, among those present being the
KING'S sons--the DUKES OF YORK, CLARENCE, KENT, and CAMBRIDGE--
Ambassadors, peers, and peeresses, and other persons of quality,
English and foreign.

In the immediate foreground on the left hand is an alcove, the
interior of which is in comparative obscurity. Two foreign
attaches enter it and sit down.]


FIRST ATTACHE

Ah--now for the fireworks. They are under the direction of Colonel
Congreve.

[At the end of an alley, purposely kept dark, fireworks are
discharged.]


SECOND ATTACHE

Very good: very good.--This looks like the Duke of Sussex coming in,
I think. Who the lady is with him I don't know.

[Enter the DUKE OF SUSSEX in a Highland dress, attended by several
officers in like attire. He walks about the gardens with LADY
CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL.]


FIRST ATTACHE

People have been paying a mighty price for tickets--as much as
fifteen guineas has been offered, I hear. I had to walk up to the
gates; the number of coaches struggling outside prevented my driving
near. It was as bad as the battle of Vitoria itself.


SECOND ATTACHE

So Wellington is made Field-Marshal for his achievement.


FIRST ATTACHE

Yes. By the by, you have heard of the effect of the battle upon
the Conference at Reichenbach?--that Austria is to join Russia and
Prussia against France? So much for Napoleon's marriage! I wonder
what he thinks of his respected father-in-law now.


SECOND ATTACHE

Of course, an enormous subsidy is paid to Francis by Great Britain
for this face-about?


FIRST ATTACHE

Yes. As Bonaparte says, English guineas are at the bottom of
everything!--Ah, here comes Caroline.

[The PRINCESS OF WALES arrives, attended by LADY ANNE HAMILTON
and LADY GLENBERVIE. She is conducted forward by the DUKE OF
GLOUCESTER and COLONEL ST. LEDGER, and wears a white satin train
with a dark embroidered bodice, and a green wreath with diamonds.

Repeated hurrahs greet her from the crowd. She bows courteously.]


SECOND ATTACHE

The people are staunch for her still! . . . You heard, sir, what
Austrian Francis said when he learnt of Vitoria?--"A warm climate
seems to agree with my son-in-law no better than a cold one."


FIRST ATTACHE

Ha-ha-ha!
Marvellous it is how this loud victory
Has couched the late blind Europe's Cabinets.
Would I could spell precisely what was phrased
'Twixt Bonaparte and Metternich at Dresden--
Their final word, I ween, till God knows when!--


SECOND ATTACHE

I own to feeling it a sorry thing
That Francis should take English money down
To throw off Bonaparte. 'Tis sordid, mean!
He is his daughter's husband after all.


FIRST ATTACHE

Ay; yes! . . . They say she knows not of it yet.


SECOND ATTACHE

Poor thing, I daresay it will harry her
When all's revealed. But the inside o't is,
Since Castlereagh's return to power last year
Vienna, like Berlin and Petersburg,
Has harboured England's secret emissaries,
Primed, purse in hand, with the most lavish sums
To knit the league to drag Napoleon down. . . .
(More fireworks.) That's grand.--Here comes one Royal item more.

[The DUCHESS OF YORK enters, attended by her ladies and by the
HON. B. CRAVEN and COLONEL BARCLAY. She is received with signals
of respect.]


FIRST ATTACHE

She calls not favour forth as Caroline can!


SECOND ATTACHE

To end my words:--Though happy for this realm,
Austria's desertion frankly is, by God,
Rank treachery!


FIRST ATTACHE

Whatever it is, it means
Two hundred thousand swords for the Allies,
And enemies in batches for Napoleon
Leaping from unknown lairs.--Yes, something tells me
That this is the beginning of the end
For Emperor Bonaparte!

[The PRINCESS OF WALES prepares to leave. An English diplomatist
joins the attaches in the alcove. The PRINCESS and her ladies go
out.]


DIPLOMATIST

I saw you over here, and I came round. Cursed hot and crowded, isn't
it?


SECOND ATTACHE

What is the Princess leaving so soon for?


DIPLOMATIST

Oh, she has not been received in the Royal box by the other members
of the Royal Family, and it has offended her, though she was told
beforehand that she could not be. Poor devil! Nobody invited her
here. She came unasked, and she has gone unserved.


FIRST ATTACHE

We shall have to go unserved likewise, I fancy. The scramble at the
buffets is terrible.


DIPLOMATIST

And the road from here to Marsh Gate is impassable. Some ladies have
been sitting in their coaches for hours outside the hedge there. We
shall not get home till noon to-morrow.


A VOICE (from the back)

Take care of your watches! Pickpockets!


FIRST ATTACHE

Good. That relieves the monotony a little.

[Excitement in the throng. When it has subsided the band strikes
up a country dance, and stewards with white ribbons and laurel
leaves are seen bustling about.]


SECOND ATTACHE

Let us go and look at the dancing. It is "Voulez-vous danser"--no,
it is not,--it is "Enrico"--two ladies between two gentlemen.

[They go from the alcove.]


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

From this phantasmagoria let us roam
To the chief wheel and capstan of the show,
Distant afar. I pray you closely read
What I reveal--wherein each feature bulks
In measure with its value humanly.

[The beholder finds himself, as it were, caught up on high, and
while the Vauxhall scene still dimly twinkles below, he gazes
southward towards Central Europe--the contorted and attenuated
ecorche of the Continent appearing as in an earlier scene, but
now obscure under the summer stars.]

Three cities loom out large: Vienna there,
Dresden, which holds Napoleon, over here,
And Leipzig, whither we shall shortly wing,
Out yonderwards. 'Twixt Dresden and Vienna
What thing do you discern?


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Something broad-faced,
Flat-folded, parchment-pale, and in its shape
Rectangular; but moving like a cloud
The Dresden way.


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Yet gaze more closely on it.


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

The object takes a letter's lineaments
Though swollen to mainsail measure,--magically,
I gather from your words; and on its face
Are three vast seals, red--signifying blood
Must I suppose? It moves on Dresden town,
And dwarfs the city as it passes by.--
You say Napoleon's there?


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

The document,
Sized to its big importance, as I told,
Bears in it formal declaration, signed,
Of war by Francis with his late-linked son,
The Emperor of France. Now let us go
To Leipzig city, and await the blow.

[A chaotic gloom ensues, accompanied by a rushing like that of a
mighty wind.]




ACT THIRD


SCENE I

LEIPZIG. NAPOLEON'S QUARTERS IN THE REUDNITZ SUBURB

[The sitting-room of a private mansion. Evening. A large stove-
fire and candles burning. The October wind is heard without, and
the leaded panes of the old windows shake mournfully.]


SEMICHORUS I OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music)

We come; and learn as Time's disordered dear sands run
That Castlereagh's diplomacy has wiled, waxed, won.
The beacons flash the fevered news to eyes keen bent
That Austria's formal words of war are shaped, sealed, sent.


SEMICHORUS II

So; Poland's three despoilers primed by Bull's gross pay
To stem Napoleon's might, he waits the weird dark day;
His proffered peace declined with scorn, in fell force then
They front him, with yet ten-score thousand more massed men.

[At the back of the room CAULAINCOURT, DUKE OF VICENZA, and
JOUANNE, one of Napoleon's confidential secretaries, are unpacking
and laying out the Emperor's maps and papers. In the foreground
BERTHIER, MURAT, LAURISTON, and several officers of Napoleon's
suite, are holding a desultory conversation while they await his
entry. Their countenances are overcast.]


MURAT

At least, the scheme of marching on Berlin
Is now abandoned.


LAURISTON

Not without high words:
He yielded and gave order prompt for Leipzig
But coldness and reserve have marked his mood
Towards us ever since.


BERTHIER

The march hereto
He has looked on as a retrogressive one,
And that, he ever holds, is courting woe.
To counsel it was doubtless full of risk,
And heaped us with responsibilities;
--Yet 'twas your missive, sire, that settled it (to MURAT).
How stirred he was! "To Leipzig, or Berlin?"
He kept repeating, as he drew and drew
Fantastic figures on the foolscap sheet,--
"The one spells ruin--t'other spells success,
And which is which?"


MURAT (stiffly)

What better could I do?
So far were the Allies from sheering off
As he supposed, that they had moved in march
Full fanfare hither! I was duty-bound
To let him know.


LAURISTON

Assuming victory here,
If he should let the advantage slip him by
As on the Dresden day, he wrecks us all!
'Twas damnable--to ride back from the fight
Inside a coach, as though we had not won!


CAULAINCOURT (from the back)

The Emperor was ill: I have ground for knowing.

[NAPOLEON enters.]


NAPOLEON (buoyantly)

Comrades, the outlook promises us well!


MURAT (dryly)

Right glad are we you tongue such tidings, sire.
To us the stars have visaged differently;
To wit: we muster outside Leipzig here
Levies one hundred and ninety thousand strong.
The enemy has mustered, OUTSIDE US,
Three hundred and fifty thousand--if not more.


NAPOLEON

All that is needful is to conquer them!
We are concentred here: they lie a-spread,
Which shrinks them to two-hundred-thousand power:--
Though that the urgency of victory
Is absolute, I admit.


MURAT

Yea; otherwise
The issue will be worse than Moscow, sire!

[MARMONT, DUKE OF RAGUSA (Wellington's adversary in Spain), is
announced, and enters.]


NAPOLEON

Ah, Marmont; bring you in particulars?


MARMONT

Some sappers I have taken captive, sire,
Say the Allies will be at stroke with us
The morning next to to-morrow's.--I am come,
Now, from the steeple-top of Liebenthal,
Where I beheld the enemy's fires bespot
The horizon round with raging eyes of flame:--
My vanward posts, too, have been driven in,
And I need succours--thrice ten thousand, say.


NAPOLEON (coldly)

The enemy vexes not your vanward posts;
You are mistaken.--Now, however, go;
Cross Leipzig, and remain as the reserve.--
Well, gentlemen, my hope herein is this:
The first day to annihilate Schwarzenberg,
The second Blucher. So shall we slip the toils
They are all madding to enmesh us in.


BERTHIER

Few are our infantry to fence with theirs!


NAPOLEON (cheerfully)

We'll range them in two lines instead of three,
And so we shall look stronger by one-third.


BERTHIER (incredulously)

Can they be thus deceived, sire?


NAPOLEON

Can they? Yes!
With all my practice I can err in numbers
At least one-quarter; why not they one-third?
Anyhow, 'tis worth trying at a pinch. . . .

[AUGEREAU is suddenly announced.]

Good! I've not seen him yet since he arrived.

[Enter AUGEREAU.

Here you are then at last, old Augereau!
You have been looked for long.--But you are no more
The Augereau of Castiglione days!


AUGEREAU

Nay, sire! I still should be the Augereau
Of glorious Castiglione, could you give
The boys of Italy back again to me!


NAPOLEON

Well, let it drop. . . . Only I notice round me
An atmosphere of scopeless apathy
Wherein I do not share.


AUGEREAU

There are reasons, sire,
Good reasons for despondence! As I came
I learnt, past question, that Bavaria
Swerves on the very pivot of desertion.
This adds some threescore thousand to our foes.


NAPOLEON (irritated)

That consummation long has threatened us! . . .
Would that you showed the steeled fidelity
You used to show! Except me, all are slack!
(To Murat) Why, even you yourself, my brother-in-law,
Have been inclining to abandon me!


MURAT (vehemently)

I, sire? It is not so. I stand and swear
The grievous imputation is untrue.
You should know better than believe these things,
And well remember I have enemies
Who ever wait to slander me to you!


NAPOLEON (more calmly)

Ah yes, yes. That is so.--And yet--and yet
You have deigned to weigh the feasibility
Of treating me as Austria has done! . . .
But I forgive you. You are a worthy man;
You feel real friendship for me. You are brave.
Yet I was wrong to make a king of you.
If I had been content to draw the line
At vice-king, as with young Eugene, no more,
As he has laboured you'd have laboured, too!
But as full monarch, you have foraged rather
For your own pot than mine!

[MURAT and the marshal are silent, and look at each other with
troubled countenances. NAPOLEON goes to the table at the back, and
bends over the charts with CAULAINCOURT, dictating desultory notes
to the secretaries.]


SPIRIT IRONIC

A seer might say
This savours of a sad Last-Supper talk
'Twixt his disciples and this Christ of war!

[Enter an attendant.]


ATTENDANT

The Saxon King and Queen and the Princess
Enter the city gates, your Majesty.
They seek the shelter of the civic walls
Against the risk of capture by Allies.


NAPOLEON

Ah, so? My friend Augustus, is he near?
I will be prompt to meet him when he comes,
And safely quarter him. (He returns to the map.)

[An interval. The clock strikes midnight. The EMPEROR rises
abruptly, sighs, and comes forward.]

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