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Laura Lee Hope - "The Story of Calico Clown"

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The Dynasts

T >> Thomas Hardy >> The Dynasts




Napoleon has befooled me,
By God he has,--gained four-and-twenty hours'
Good march upon me!


RICHMOND

What do you mean to do?


WELLINGTON

I have bidden the army concentrate in strength
At Quatre-Bras. But we shan't stop him there;
So I must fight him HERE. (He marks Waterloo with his thumbnail.)
Well, now I have sped,
All necessary orders I may sup,
And then must say good-bye. (To Brunswick.) This very day
There will be fighting, Duke. You are fit to start?


BRUNSWICK (coming forward)

I leave almost this moment.--Yes, your Grace--
And I sheath not my sword till I have avenged
My father's death. I have sworn it!


WELLINGTON

My good friend,
Something too solemn knells beneath your words.
Take cheerful views of the affair in hand,
And fall to't with _sang froid_!


BRUNSWICK

But I have sworn!
Adieu. The rendezvous is Quatre-Bras?


WELLINGTON

Just so. The order is unchanged. Adieu;
But only till a later hour to-day;
I see it is one o'clock.

[WELLINGTON and RICHMOND go out of the alcove and join the
hostess, BRUNSWICK'S black figure being left there alone. He
bends over the map for a few seconds.]


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

O Brunswick, Duke of Deathwounds! Even as he
For whom thou wear'st that filial weedery
Was waylaid by my tipstaff nine years since,
So thou this day shalt feel his fendless tap,
And join thy sire!


BRUNSWICK (starting up)

I am stirred by inner words,
As 'twere my father's angel calling me,--
That prelude to our death my lineage know!

[He stands in a reverie for a moment; then, bidding adieu to the
DUCHESS OF RICHMOND and her daughter, goes slowly out of the
ballroom by a side-door.]


DUCHESS

The Duke of Brunswick bore him gravely here.
His sable shape has stuck me all the eve
As one of those romantic presences
We hear of--seldom see.


WELLINGTON (phlegmatically)

Romantic,--well,
It may be so. Times often, ever since
The Late Duke's death, his mood has tinged him thus.
He is of those brave men who danger see,
And seeing front it,--not of those, less brave
But counted more, who face it sightlessly.


YOUNG OFFICER (to partner)

The Generals slip away! I, Love, must take
The cobbled highway soon. Some hours ago
The French seized Charleroi; so they loom nigh.


PARTNER (uneasily)

Which tells me that the hour you draw your sword
Looms nigh us likewise!


YOUNG OFFICER

Some are saying here
We fight this very day. Rumours all-shaped
Fly round like cockchafers!

[Suddenly there echoes in the ballroom a long-drawn metallic purl
of sound, making all the company start.]

Transcriber's Note: There follows in musical notation five measures
for side-drum.

Ah--there it is,
Just as I thought! They are beating the Generale.

[The loud roll of side-drums is taken up by other drums further
and further away, till the hollow noise spreads all over the city.
Dismay is written on the faces of the women. The Highland non-
commissioned officers and privates march smartly down the ballroom
and disappear.]


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Discerned you stepping out in front of them
That figure--of a pale drum-major kind,
Or fugleman--who wore a cold grimace?


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

He was my old fiend Death, in rarest trim,
The occasion favouring his husbandry!


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Are those who marched behind him, then, to fall?


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Ay, all well-nigh, ere Time have houred three-score.


PARTNER

Surely this cruel call to instant war
Spares space for one dance more, that memory
May store when you are gone, while I--sad me!--
Wait, wait and weep. . . . Yes--one there is to be!


SPIRIT IRONIC

Methinks flirtation grows too tender here!

[Country Dance, "The Prime of Life," a favourite figure at this
period. The sense of looming tragedy carries emotion to its
climax. All the younger officers stand up with their partners,
forming several figures of fifteen or twenty couples each. The
air is ecstasizing, and both sexes abandon themselves to the
movement.

Nearly half an hour passes before the figure is danced down.
Smothered kisses follow the conclusion. The silence is broken
from without by more long hollow rolling notes, so near that
they thrill the window-panes.]


SEVERAL

'Tis the Assemble. Now, then, we must go!

[The officers bid farewell to their partners and begin leaving
in twos and threes. When they are gone the women mope and murmur
to each other by the wall, and listen to the tramp of men and
slamming of doors in the streets without.]


LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE

The Duke has borne him gaily here to-night.
The youngest spirits scarcely capped his own.


DALRYMPLE

Maybe that, finding himself blade to blade
With Bonaparte at last, his blood gets quick.
French lancers of the Guard were seen at Frasnes
Last midnight; so the clash is not far off.

[They leave.]


DE LANCEY (to his wife)

I take you to our door, and say good-bye,
And go thence to the Duke's and wait for him.
In a few hours we shall be all in motion
Towards the scene of--what we cannot tell!
You, dear, will haste to Antwerp till it's past,
As we have arranged.

[They leave.]


WELLINGTON (to Richmond)

Now I must also go,
And snatch a little snooze ere harnessing.
The Prince and Brunswick have been gone some while.

[RICHMOND walks to the door with him. Exit WELLINGTON, RICHMOND
returns.]


DUCHESS (to Richmond)

Some of these left renew the dance, you see.
I cannot stop them; but with memory hot
Of those late gone, of where they are gone, and why,
It smacks of heartlessness!


RICHMOND

Let be; let be;
Youth comes not twice to fleet mortality!

[The dancing, however, is fitful and spiritless, few but civilian
partners being left for the ladies. Many of the latter prefer to
sit in reverie while waiting for their carriages.]


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

When those stout men-at-arms drew forward there,
I saw a like grimacing shadow march
And pirouette before no few of them.
Some of themselves beheld it; some did not.


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Which were so ushered?


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Brunswick, who saw and knew;
One also moved before Sir Thomas Picton,
Who coolly conned and drily spoke to it;
Another danced in front of Ponsonby,
Who failed of heeding his.--De Lancey, Hay,
Gordon, and Cameron, and many more
Were footmanned by like phantoms from the ball.


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Multiplied shimmerings of my Protean friend,
Who means to couch them shortly. Thou wilt eye
Many fantastic moulds of him ere long,
Such as, bethink thee, oft hast eyed before.


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

I have--too often!

[The attenuated dance dies out, the remaining guests depart, the
musicians leave the gallery and depart also. RICHMOND goes to
a window and pulls back one of the curtains. Dawn is barely
visible in the sky, and the lamps indistinctly reveal that long
lines of British infantry have assembled in the street. In the
irksomeness of waiting for their officers with marching-orders,
they have lain down on the pavements, where many are soundly
sleeping, their heads on their knapsacks and their arms by their
side.]


DUCHESS

Poor men. Sleep waylays them. How tired they seem!


RICHMOND

They'll be more tired before the day is done.
A march of eighteen miles beneath the heat,
And then to fight a battle ere they rest,
Is what foreshades.--Well, it is more than bed-time;
But little sleep for us or any one
To-night in Brussels!

[He draws the window-curtain and goes out with the DUCHESS.
Servants enter and extinguish candles. The scene closes in
darkness.]



SCENE III

CHARLEROI. NAPOLEON'S QUARTERS

[The same midnight. NAPOLEON is lying on a bed in his clothes.
In consultation with SOULT, his Chief of Staff, who is sitting
near, he dictates to his Secretary orders for the morrow. They
are addressed to KELLERMANN, DROUOT, LOBAU, GERARD, and other
of his marshals. SOULT goes out to dispatch them.

The Secretary resumes the reading of reports. Presently MARSHAL
NEY is announced He is heard stumbling up the stairs, and enters.]


NAPOLEON

Ah, Ney; why come you back? Have you secured
The all-important Crossways?--safely sconced
Yourself at Quatre-Bras?


NEY

Not, sire, as yet.
For, marching forwards, I heard gunnery boom,
And, fearing that the Prussians had engaged you,
I stood at pause. Just then---


NAPOLEON

My charge was this:
Make it impossible at any cost
That Wellington and Blucher should unite.
As it's from Brussels that the English come,
And from Namur the Prussians, Quatre-Bras
Lends it alone for their forgathering:
So, why exists it not in your hands/


NEY

My reason, sire, was rolling from my tongue.--
Hard on the boom of guns, dim files of foot
Which read to me like massing Englishry--
The vanguard of all Wellington's array--
I half-discerned. So, in pure wariness,
I left the Bachelu columns there at Frasnes,
And hastened back to tell you.


NAPOLEON

Ney; O Ney!
I fear you are not the man that once you were;
Of your so daring, such a faint-heart now!
I have ground to know the foot that flustered you
Were but a few stray groups of Netherlanders;
For my good spies in Brussels send me cue
That up to now the English have not stirred,
But cloy themselves with nightly revel there.


NEY (bitterly)

Give me another opportunity
Before you speak like that!


NAPOLEON

You soon will have one! . . .
But now--no more of this. I have other glooms
Upon my soul--the much-disquieting news
That Bourmont has deserted to our foes
With his whole staff.


NEY

We can afford to let him.


NAPOLEON

It is what such betokens, not their worth,
That whets it! . . . Love, respect for me, have waned;
But I will right that. We've good chances still.
You must return foot-hot to Quatre-Bras;
There Kellermann's cuirassiers will promptly join you
To bear the English backward Brussels way.
I go on towards Fleurus and Ligny now.--
If Blucher's force retreat, and Wellington's
Lie somnolent in Brussels one day more,
I gain that city sans a single shot! . . .

Now, friend, downstairs you'll find some supper ready,
Which you must tuck in sharply, and then off.
The past day has not ill-advantaged us;
We have stolen upon the two chiefs unawares,
And in such sites that they must fight apart.
Now for a two hours' rest.--Comrade, adieu
Until to-morrow!

NEY

Till to-morrow, sire!

[Exit NEY. NAPOLEON falls asleep, and the Secretary waits till
dictation shall be resumed. BUSSY, the orderly officer, comes
to the door.


BUSSY

Letters--arrived from Paris. (Hands letters.)


SECRETARY

He shall have them
The moment he awakes. These eighteen hours
He's been astride; and is not what he was.--
Much news from Paris?


BUSSY

I can only say
What's not the news. The courier has just told me
He'd nothing from the Empress at Vienna
To bring his Majesty. She writes no more.


SECRETARY

And never will again! In my regard
That bird's forsook the nest for good and all.


BUSSY

All that they hear in Paris from her court
Is through our spies there. One of them reports
This rumour of her: that the Archduke John,
In taking leave to join our enemies here,
Said, "Oh, my poor Louise; I am grieved for you
And what I hope is, that he'll be run through,
Or shot, or break his neck, for your own good
No less than ours.


NAPOLEON (waking)

By "he" denoting me?


BUSSY (starting)

Just so, your Majesty.


NAPOLEON (peremptorily)

What said the Empress?


BUSSY

She gave no answer, sire, that rumour bears.


NAPOLEON

Count Neipperg, whom they have made her chamberlain,
Interred his wife last spring--is it not so?


BUSSY

He did, your Majesty.


NAPOLEON

H'm. . . .You may go.

[Exit BUSSY. The Secretary reads letters aloud in succession.
He comes to the last; begins it; reaches a phrase, and stops
abruptly.]

Mind not! Read on. No doubt the usual threat,
Or prophecy, from some mad scribe? Who signs it?


SECRETARY

The subscript is "The Duke of Enghien!"


NAPOLEON (starting up)

Bah, man! A treacherous trick! A hoax--no more!
Is that the last?


SECRETARY

The last, your Majesty.


NAPOLEON

Then now I'll sleep. In two hours have me called.


SECRETARY

I'll give the order, sire.

[The Secretary goes. The candles are removed, except one, and
NAPOLEON endeavours to compose himself.]


SPIRIT IRONIC

A little moral panorama would do him no harm, after that reminder of
the Duke of Enghien. Shall it be, young Compassion?


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

What good--if that old Years tells us be true?
But I say naught. To ordain is not for me!

[Thereupon a vision passes before NAPOLEON as he lies, comprising
hundreds of thousands of skeletons and corpses in various stages
of decay. They rise from his various battlefields, the flesh
dropping from them, and gaze reproachfully at him. His intimate
officers who have been slain he recognizes among the crowd. In
front is the DUKE OF ENGHIEN as showman.]


NAPOLEON (in his sleep)

Why, why should this reproach be dealt me now?
Why hold me my own master, if I be
Ruled by the pitiless Planet of Destiny?

[He jumps up in a sweat and puts out the last candle; and the
scene is curtained by darkness.]



SCENE IV

A CHAMBER OVERLOOKING A MAIN STREET IN BRUSSELS

[A June sunrise; the beams struggling through the window-curtains.
A canopied bed in a recess on the left. The quick notes of
"Brighton Camp, or the "Girl I've left behind me," strike sharply
into the room from fifes and drums without. A young lady in a
dressing-gown, who has evidently been awaiting the sound, springs
from the bed like a hare from its form, undraws window-curtains
and opens the window.

Columns of British soldiery are marching past from the Parc
southward out of the city by the Namur Gate. The windows of
other houses in the street rattle open, and become full of
gazers.

A tap at the door. An older lady enters, and comes up to the
first.]


YOUNGER LADY (turning)

O mamma--I didn't hear you!


ELDER LADY

I was sound asleep till the thumping of the drums set me fantastically
dreaming, and when I awoke I found they were real. Did they wake you
too, my dear?


Younger Lady (reluctantly)

I didn't require waking. I hadn't slept since we came home.


ELDER LADY

That was from the excitement of the ball. There are dark rings round
your eye. (The fifes and drums are now opposite, and thrill the air
in the room.) Ah--that "Girl I've left behind me!"--which so many
thousands of women have throbbed an accompaniment to, and will again
to-day if ever they did!


YOUNGER LADY (her voice faltering)

It is rather cruel to say that just now, mamma. There, I can't look
at them after it! (She turns and wipes her eyes.)


ELDER LADY

I wasn't thinking of ourselves--certainly not of you.--How they
press on--with those great knapsacks and firelocks and, I am told,
fifty-six rounds of ball-cartridge, and four days' provisions in
those haversacks. How can they carry it all near twenty miles and
fight with it on their shoulders! . . . Don't cry, dear. I thought
you would get sentimental last night over somebody. I ought to
have brought you home sooner. How many dances did you have? It
was impossible for me to look after you in the excitement of the
war-tidings.


YOUNGER LADY

Only three--four.


ELDER LADY

Which were they?


YOUNGER LADY

"Enrico," the "Copenhagen Waltz" and the "Hanoverian," and the
"Prime of Life."


ELDER LADY

It was very foolish to fall in love on the strength of four dances.


YOUNGER LADY (evasively)

Fall in love? Who said I had fallen in love? What a funny idea!


ELDER LADY

Is it? . . . Now here come the Highland Brigade with their pipes
and their "Hieland Laddie." How the sweethearts cling to the men's
arms. (Reaching forward.) There are more regiments following.
But look, that gentleman opposite knows us. I cannot remember his
name. (She bows and calls across.) Sir, which are these?


GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE

The Ninety-second. Next come the Forty-ninth, and next the Forty-
second--Sir Denis Pack's brigade.


ELDER LADY

Thank you.--I think it is that gentleman we talked to at the
Duchess's, but I am not sure. (A pause: another band.)


GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE

That's the Twenty-eighth. (They pass, with their band and colours.)
Now the Thirty-second are coming up--part of Kempt's brigade. Endless,
are they not?


ELDER LADY

Yes, Sir. Has the Duke passed out yet?


GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE

Not yet. Some cavalry will go by first, I think. The foot coming
up now are the Seventy-ninth. (They pass.) . . . These next are
the Ninety-fifth. (They pass.) . . . These are the First Foot-
guards now. (They pass, playing "British Grenadiers.") . . . The
Fusileer-guards now. (They pass.) Now the Coldstreamers. (They
pass. He looks up towards the Parc.) Several Hanoverian regiments
under Colonel Best are coming next. (They pass, with their bands
and colours. An interval.)


ELDER LADY (to daughter)

Here are the hussars. How much more they carry to battle than at
reviews. The hay in those great nets must encumber them. (She
turns and sees that her daughter has become pale.) Ah, now I know!
HE has just gone by. You exchanged signals with him, you wicked
girl! How do you know what his character is, or if he'll ever come
back?

[The younger lady goes and flings herself on her face upon the
bed, sobbing silently. Her mother glances at her, but leaves
her alone. An interval. The prancing of a group of horsemen
is heard on the cobble-stones without.]


GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE (calling)

Here comes the Duke!


ELDER LADY (to younger)

You have left the window at the most important time! The Duke of
Wellington and his staff-officers are passing out.


YOUNGER LADY

I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anything any more!

[Riding down the street comes WELLINGTON in a grey frock-coat and
small cocked hat, frigid and undemonstrative; accompanied by four
or five Generals of his suite, the Deputy Quartermaster-general
De LANCEY, LORD FITZROY SOMERSET, Aide-de-camp, and GENERAL
MUFFLING.]


GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE

He is the Prussian officer attached to our headquarters, through whom
Wellington communicates with Blucher, who, they say, is threatened by
the French at Ligny at this moment.

[The elder lady turns to her daughter, and going to the bed bends
over her, while the horses' tramp of WELLINGTON and his staff
clatters more faintly in the street, and the music of the last
retreating band dies away towards the Forest of Soignes.

Finding her daughter is hysterical with grief she quickly draws
the window-curtains to screen the room from the houses opposite.
Scene ends.]



SCENE V

THE FIELD OF LIGNY

[The same day later. A prospect of the battlefield of Ligny
southward from the roof of the windmill of Bussy, which stands at
the centre and highest point of the Prussian position, about six
miles south-east of Quatre-Bras.

The ground slopes downward along the whole front of the scene to
a valley through which wanders the Ligne, a muddy stream bordered
by sallows. On both sides of the stream, in the middle plane of
the picture, stands the village of Ligny, composed of thatched
cottages, gardens, and farm-houses with stone walls; the main
features, such as the church, church-yard, and village-green
being on the further side of the Ligne.

On that side the land reascends in green wheatfields to an
elevation somewhat greater than that of the foreground, reaching
away to Fleurus in the right-hand distance.

In front, on the slopes between the spectator and the village,
is the First Corps of the Prussian army commanded by Zieten, its
First Brigade under STEINMETZ occupying the most salient point.
The Corps under THIELMANN is ranged to the left, and that of
PIRCH to the rear, in reserve to ZIETEN. In the centre-front,
just under the mill, BLUCHER on a fine grey charger is intently
watching, with his staff.

Something dark is seen to be advancing over the horizon by
Fleurus, about three miles off. It is the van of NAPOLEON'S
army, approaching to give battle.

At this moment hoofs are heard clattering along a road that
passes behind the mill; and there come round to the front the
DUKE OF WELLINGTON, his staff-officers, and a small escort of
cavalry.

WELLINGTON and BLUCHER greet each other at the foot of the
windmill. They disappear inside, and can be heard ascending
the ladders.

Enter on the roof WELLINGTON and BLUCHER, followed by FITZROY
SOMERSET, GNEISENAU, MUFFLING, and others. Before renewing
their conversation they peer through their glasses at the dark
movements on the horizon. WELLINGTON'S manner is deliberate,
judicial, almost indifferent; BLUCHER'S eager and impetuous.


WELLINGTON

They muster not as yet in near such strength
At Quatre-Bras as here.


BLUCHER

'Tis from Fleurus
They come debouching. I, perforce, withdrew
My forward posts of cavalry at dawn
In face of their light cannon. . . . They'll be here
I reckon, soon!


WELLINGTON (still with glass)

I clearly see his staff,
And if my eyes don't lie, the Arch-one too. . . .
It is the whole Imperial army, Prince,
That we've before us. (A silence.) Well, we'll cope with them!
What would you have me do?

[BLUCHER is so absorbed in what he sees that he does not heed.]


GNEISENAU

Duke, this I'd say:
Events suggest to us that you come up
With all your force, behind the village here,
And act as our reserve.


MUFFLING

But Bonaparte,
Pray note, has redistributed his strength
In fashion that you fail to recognize.
I am against your scheme.


BLUCHER (lowering his glass)

Signs notify
Napoleon's plans as changed! He purports now
To strike our left--between Sombreffe and Brye. . . .
If so, I have to readjust my ward.


WELLINGTON

One of his two divisions that we scan
Outspreading from Fleurus, seems bent on Ligny,
The other on Saint-Amand.


BLUCHER

Well, I shall see
In half an hour, your Grace. If what I deem
Be what he means, Von Zieten's corps forthwith
Must stand to their positions: Pirch out here,
Henckel at Ligny, Steinmetz at La Haye.


WELLINGTON

So that, your Excellency, as I opine,
I go and sling my strength on their left wing--
Manoeuvring to outflank 'em on that side.


BLUCHER

True, true. Our plan uncovers of itself;
You bear down everything from Quatre-Bras
Along the road to Frasnes.


WELLINGTON

I will, by God.
I'll bear straight on to Gosselies, if needs!


GNEISENAU

Your Excellencies, if I may be a judge,
Such movement will not tend to unity;
It leans too largely on a peradventure
Most speculative in its contingencies!

[A silence; till the officers of the staff remark to each other
that concentration is best in any circumstances. A general
discussion ensues.]


BLUCHER (concludingly)

We will expect you, Duke, to our support.


WELLINGTON

I must agree that, in the sum, it's best.
So be it then. If not attacked myself
I'll come to you.--Now I return with speed
To Quatre-Bras.


BLUCHER

And I descend from here
To give close eye and thought to things below;
No more can well be studied where we stand.

[Exeunt from roof WELLINGTON, BLUCHER and the rest. They reappear
below, and WELLINGTON and his suite gallop furiously away in the
direction of Quatre-Bras. An interval.]


DUMB SHOW (below)

Three reports of a cannon give the signal for the French attack.
NAPOLEON'S army advances down the slopes of green corn opposite,
bands and voices joining in songs of victory. The French come
in three grand columns; VANDAMME'S on the left (the spectator's
right) against Saint-Amand, the most forward angle of the Prussian
position. GERARD'S in the centre bear down upon Ligny. GROUCHY'S
on the French right is further back. Far to the rear can be
discerned NAPOLEON, the Imperial Guard, and MILHAUD'S cuirassiers
halted in reserve.

This formidable advance is preceded by swarms of tirailleurs, who
tread down the high wheat, exposing their own men in the rear.

Amid cannonading from both sides they draw nearer to the Prussians,
though lanes are cut through them by the latter's guns. They drive
the Prussians out of Ligny; who, however, rally in the houses,
churchyard, and village green.


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

I see unnatural an Monster, loosely jointed,
With an Apocalyptic Being's shape,
And limbs and eyes a hundred thousand strong,
And fifty thousand heads; which coils itself
About the buildings there.


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

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