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Gilbert Parker - "You Never Know Your Luck, Volume 2."

Samuel Pepys - "Diary of Samuel Pepys, January 1966/67"

OLIVER T. OSBORNE, A.M., M.D. - "DISTURBANCES OF THE HEART"

George Meredith - "The Shaving of Shagpat, Complete"

The Dynasts

T >> Thomas Hardy >> The Dynasts






SCENE II

BEFORE THE CITY OF ULM

[A prospect of the city from the east, showing in the foreground
a low-lying marshy country bounded in mid-distance by the banks
of the Danube, which, bordered by poplars and willows, flows
across the picture from the left to the Elchingen Bridge near
the right of the scene, and is backed by irregular heights and
terraces of espaliered vines. Between these and the river stands
the city, crowded with old gabled houses and surrounded by walls,
bastions, and a ditch, all the edifices being dominated by the
nave and tower of the huge Gothic Munster.

On the most prominent of the heights at the back--the Michaelsberg
--to the upper-right of the view, is encamped the mass of the
Austrian army, amid half-finished entrenchments. Advanced posts
of the same are seen south-east of the city, not far from the
advanced corps of the French Grand-Army under SOULT, MARMONT,
LANNES, NEY, and DUPONT, which occupy in a semicircle the whole
breadth of the flat landscape in front, and extend across the
river to higher ground on the right hand of the panorama.

Heavy mixed drifts of rain and snow are descending impartially
on the French and on the Austrians, the downfall nearly blotting
out the latter on the hills. A chill October wind wails across
the country, and the poplars yield slantingly to the gusts.]


DUMB SHOW

Drenched peasants are busily at work, fortifying the heights of
the Austrian position in the face of the enemy. Vague companies
of Austrians above, and of the French below, hazy and indistinct
in the thick atmosphere, come and go without apparent purpose
near their respective lines.

Closer at hand NAPOLEON, in his familiar blue-grey overcoat, rides
hither and thither with his marshals, haranguing familiarly the
bodies of soldiery as he passes them, and observing and pointing
out the disposition of the Austrians to his companions.

Thicker sheets of rain fly across as the murk of evening increases,
which at length entirely obscures the prospect, and cloaks its
bleared lights and fires.



SCENE III

ULM. WITHIN THE CITY

[The interior of the Austrian headquarters on the following
morning. A tempest raging without.

GENERAL MACK, haggard and anxious, the ARCHDUKE FERDINAND, PRINCE
SCHWARZENBERG, GENERAL JELLACHICH, GENERALS RIESC, BIBERBACH, and
other field officers discovered, seated at a table with a map
spread out before them. A wood fire blazes between tall andirons
in a yawning fireplace. At every more than usually boisterous
gust of wind the smoke flaps into the room.]


MACK

The accursed cunning of our adversary
Confounds all codes of honourable war,
Which ever have held as granted that the track
Of armies bearing hither from the Rhine--
Whether in peace or strenuous invasion--
Should pierce the Schwarzwald, and through Memmingen,
And meet us in our front. But he must wind
And corkscrew meanly round, where foot of man
Can scarce find pathway, stealing up to us
Thiefwise, by out back door! Nevertheless,
If English war-fleets be abreast Boulogne,
As these deserters tell, and ripe to land there,
It destines Bonaparte to pack him back
Across the Rhine again. We've but to wait,
And see him go.


ARCHDUKE

But who shall say if these bright tales be true?


MACK

Even then, small matter, your Imperial Highness;
The Russians near us daily, and must soon--
Ay, far within the eight days I have named--
Be operating to untie this knot,
If we hold on.


ARCHDUKE

Conjectures these--no more;
I stomach not such waiting. Neither hope
Has kernel in it. I and my cavalry
With caution, when the shadow fall to-night,
Can bore some hole in this engirdlement;
Outpass the gate north-east; join General Werneck,
And somehow cut our way Bohemia-wards:
Well worth the hazard, in our straitened case!


MACK (firmly)

The body of our force stays here with me.
And I am much surprised, your Highness, much,
You mark not how destructive 'tis to part!
If we wait on, for certain we should wait
In our full strength, compacted, undispersed
By such partition as your Highness plans.


SCHWARZENBERG

There's truth in urging we should not divide,
But weld more closely.--Yet why stay at all?
Methinks there's but one sure salvation left,
To wit, that we conjunctly march herefrom,
And with much circumspection, towards the Tyrol.
The subtle often rack their wits in vain--
Assay whole magazines of strategy--
To shun ill loomings deemed insuperable,
When simple souls by stumbling up to them
Find the grim shapes but air. But let use grant
That the investing French so ring us in
As to leave not a span for such exploit;
Then go we--throw ourselves upon their steel,
And batter through, or die!--
What say you, Generals? Speak your minds, I pray.


JELLACHICH

I favour marching out--the Tyrol way.


RIESC

Bohemia best! The route thereto is open.


ARCHDUKE

My course is chosen. O this black campaign,
Which Pitt's alarmed dispatches pricked us to,
All unforseeing! Any risk for me
Rather than court humiliation here!

[MACK has risen during the latter remarks, walked to the
window, and looked out at the rain. He returns with an air
of embarrassment.]


MACK (to Archduke)

It is my privilege firmly to submit
That your Imperial Highness undertake
No venturous vaulting into risks unknown.--
Assume that you, Sire, as you have proposed,
With your light regiments and the cavalry,
Detach yourself from us, to scoop a way
By circuits northwards through the Rauhe Alps
And Herdenheim, into Bohemia:
Reports all point that you will be attacked,
Enveloped, borne on to capitulate.
What worse can happen here?--
Remember, Sire, the Emperor deputes me,
Should such a clash arise as has arisen,
To exercise supreme authority.
The honour of our arms, our race, demands
That none of your Imperial Highness' line
Be pounded prisoner by this vulgar foe,
Who is not France, but an adventurer,
Imposing on that country for his gain.


ARCHDUKE

But it seems clear to me that loitering here
Is full as like to compass our surrender
As moving hence. And ill it therefore suits
The mood of one of my high temperature
To pause inactive while await me means
Of desperate cure for these so desperate ills!

[The ARCHDUKE FERDINAND goes out. A troubled, silence follows,
during which the gusts call into the chimney, and raindrops spit
on the fire.]


SCHWARZENBERG

The Archduke bears him shrewdly in this course.
We may as well look matters in the face,
And that we are cooped and cornered is most clear;
Clear it is, too, that but a miracle
Can work to loose us! I have stoutly held
That this man's three years' ostentatious scheme
To fling his army on the tempting shores
Of our Allies the English was a--well--
Scarce other than a trick of thimble-rig
To still us into false security.


JELLACHICH

Well, I know nothing. None needs list to me,
But, on the whole, to southward seems the course
For lunging, all in force, immediately.

[Another pause.]


SPIRIT SINISTER

The Will throws Mack again into agitation:
Ho-ho--what he'll do now!


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Nay, hard one, nay;
The clouds weep for him!


SPIRIT SINISTER

If he must;
And it's good antic at a vacant time!

[MACK goes restlessly to the door, and is heard pacing about
the vestibule, and questioning the aides and other officers
gathered there.]


A GENERAL

He wavers like this smoke-wreath that inclines
Or north, or south, as the storm-currents rule!


MACK (returning)

Bring that deserter hither once again.

[A French soldier is brought in, blindfolded and guarded. The
bandage is removed.]

Well, tell us what he says.


AN OFFICER (after speaking to the prisoner in French)

He still repeats
That the whole body of the British strength
Is even now descending on Boulogne,
And that self-preservation must, if need,
Clear us from Bonaparte ere many days,
Who momently is moving.


MACK

Still retain him.

[He walks to the fire, and stands looking into it. The soldier
is taken out.]


JELLACHICH (bending over the map in argument with RIESC)

I much prefer our self-won information;
And if we have Marshal Soult at Landsberg here,
(Which seems to be truth, despite this man,)
And Dupont hard upon us at Albeck,
With Ney not far from Gunzburg; somewhere here,
Or further down the river, lurking Lannes,
Our game's to draw off southward--if we can!


MACK (turning)

I have it. This we'll do. You Jellachich,
Unite with Spangen's troops at Memmingen,
To fend off mischief there. And you, Riesc,
Will make your utmost haste to occupy
The bridge and upper ground at Elchingen,
And all along the left bank of the stream,
Till you observe whereon to concentrate
And sever their connections. I couch here,
And hold the city till the Russians come.


A GENERAL (in a low voice)

Disjunction seems of all expedients worst:
If any stay, then stay should every man,
Gather, inlace, and close up hip to hip,
And perk and bristle hedgehog-like with spines!


MACK

The conference is ended, friends, I say,
And orders will be issued here forthwith.

[Guns heard.]


AN OFFICER

Surely that's from the Michaelsberg above us?


MACK

Never care. Here we stay. In five more days
The Russians hail, and we regain our bays.

[Exeunt severally.]



SCENE IV

BEFORE ULM. THE SAME DAY

[A high wind prevails, and rain falls in torrents. An elevated
terrace near Elchingen forms the foreground.]


DUMB SHOW

From the terrace BONAPARTE surveys and dictates operations against
the entrenched heights of the Michaelsberg that rise in the middle
distance on the right above the city. Through the gauze of
descending waters the French soldiery can be discerned climbing
to the attack under NEY.

They slowly advance, recede, re-advance, halt. A time of suspense
follows. Then they are seen in a state of irregular movement, even
confusion; but in the end they carry the heights with the bayonet.

Below the spot whereon NAPOLEON and his staff are gathered,
glistening wet and plastered with mud, obtrudes on the left the
village of Elchingen, now in the hands of the French. Its white-
walled monastery, its bridge over the Danube, recently broken by
the irresistible NEY, wear a desolated look, and the stream, which
is swollen by the rainfall and rasped by the storm, seems wanly to
sympathize.

Anon shells are dropped by the French from the summits they have
gained into the city below. A bomb from an Austrian battery falls
near NAPOLEON, and in bursting raises a fountain of mud. The
Emperor retreats with his officers to a less conspicuous station.

Meanwhile LANNES advances from a position near NAPOLEON till his
columns reach the top of the Frauenberg hard by. The united corps
of LANNES and NEY descend on the inner slope of the heights towards
the city walls, in the rear of the retreating Austrians. One
of the French columns scales a bastion, but NAPOLEON orders the
assault to be discontinued, and with the wane of day the spectacle
disappears.



SCENE V

THE SAME. THE MICHAELSBERG

[A chilly but rainless noon three days later. At the back of the
scene, northward, rise the Michaelsberg heights; below stretches
the panorama of the city and the Danube. On a secondary eminence
forming a spur of the upper hill, a fire of logs is burning, the
foremost group beside it being NAPOLEON and his staff, the former
in his shabby greatcoat and plain turned-up hat, walking to and
fro with his hands behind him, and occasionally stopping to warm
himself. The French infantry are drawn up in a dense array at
the back of these.

The whole Austrian garrison of Ulm marches out of the city gate
opposite NAPOLEON. GENERAL MACK is at the head, followed by
GIULAY, GOTTESHEIM, KLINAU, LICHTENSTEIN, and many other officers,
who advance to BONAPARTE and deliver their swords.]


MACK

Behold me, Sire. Mack the unfortunate!


NAPOLEON

War, General, ever has its ups and downs,
And you must take the better and the worse
As impish chance or destiny ordains.
Come near and warm you here. A glowing fire
Is life on the depressing, mired, moist days
Of smitten leaves down-dropping clammily,
And toadstools like the putrid lungs of men.
(To his Lieutenants.) Cause them so stand to right and left of me.

[The Austrian officers arrange themselves as directed, and the
body of the Austrians now file past their Conqueror, laying down
their arms as they approach; some with angry gestures and words,
others in moody silence.]

Listen, I pray you, Generals gathered her.
I tell you frankly that I know not why
Your master wages this wild war with me.
I know not what he seeks by such injustice,
Unless to give me practice in my trade--
That of a soldier--whereto I was bred:
Deemed he my craft might slip from me, unplied?
Let him now own me still a dab therein!


MACK

Permit me, your Imperial Majesty,
To speak one word in answer; which is this,
No war was wished for by my Emperor:
Russia constrained him to it!


NAPOLEON

If that be,
You are no more a European power.--
I would point out to him that my resources
Are not confined to these my musters here;
My prisoners of war, in route for France,
Will see some marks of my resources there!
Two hundred thousand volunteers, right fit,
Will join my standards at a single nod,
And in six weeks prove soldiers to the bone,
Whilst you recruits, compulsion's scavengings,
Scarce weld to warriors after toilsome years.

But I want nothing on this Continent:
The English only are my enemies.
Ships, colonies, and commerce I desire,
Yea, therewith to advantage you as me.
Let me then charge your Emperor, my brother,
To turn his feet the shortest way to peace.--
All states must have an end, the weak, the strong;
Ay; even may fall the dynasty of Lorraine!

[The filing past and laying down of arms by the Austrian army
continues with monotonous regularity, as if it would never end.]


NAPOLEON (in a murmur, after a while)

Well, what cares England! She has won her game;
I have unlearnt to threaten her from Boulogne. . . .

Her gold it is that forms the weft of this
Fair tapestry of armies marshalled here!
Likewise of Russia's drawing steadily nigh.
But they may see what these see, by and by.


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

So let him speak, the while we clearly sight him
Moved like a figure on a lantern-slide.
Which, much amazing uninitiate eyes,
The all-compelling crystal pane but drags
Wither the showman wills.


SPIRIT IRONIC

And yet, my friend,
The Will itself might smile at this collapse
Of Austria's men-at-arms, so drolly done;
Even as, in your phantasmagoric show,
The deft manipulator of the slide
Might smile at his own art.


CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music)

Ah, no: ah, no!
It is impassible as glacial snow.--
Within the Great Unshaken
These painted shapes awaken
A lesser thrill than doth the gentle lave
Of yonder bank by Danube's wandering wave
Within the Schwarzwald heights that give it flow!


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

But O, the intolerable antilogy
Of making figments feel!


SPIRIT IRONIC

Logic's in that.
It does not, I must own, quite play the game.


CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music)

And this day wins for Ulm a dingy fame,
Which centuries shall not bleach from her name!

[The procession of Austrians continues till the scene is hidden
by haze.]



SCENE VI

LONDON. SPRING GARDENS

[Before LORD MALMESBURY'S house, on a Sunday morning in the
same autumn. Idlers pause and gather in the background.

PITT enters, and meets LORD MULGRAVE.]


MULGRAVE

Good day, Pitt. Ay, these leaves that skim the ground
With withered voices, hint that sunshine-time
Is well-nigh past.--And so the game's begun
Between him and the Austro-Russian force,
As second movement in the faceabout
From Boulogne shore, with which he has hocussed us?--
What has been heard on't? Have they clashed as yet?


PITT

The Emperor Francis, partly at my instance,
Has thrown the chief command on General Mack,
A man most capable and far of sight.
He centres by the Danube-bank at Ulm,
A town well-walled, and firm for leaning on
To intercept the French in their advance
From the Black Forest toward the Russian troops
Approaching from the east. If Bonaparte
Sustain his marches at the break-neck speed
That all report, they must have met ere now.
--There is a rumour . . . quite impossible! . . .


MULGRAVE

You still have faith in Mack as strategist?
There have been doubts of his far-sightedness.


PITT (hastily)

I know, I know.--I am calling here at Malmesbury's
At somewhat an unceremonious time
To ask his help to translate this Dutch print
The post has brought. Malmesbury is great at Dutch,
Learning it long at Leyden, years ago.

[He draws a newspaper from his pocket, unfolds it, and glances
it down.]

There's news here unintelligible to me
Upon the very matter! You'll come in?

[They call at LORD MAMESBURY'S. He meets them in the hall, and
welcomes them with an apprehensive look of foreknowledge.]


PITT

Pardon this early call. The packet's in,
And wings me this unreadable Dutch paper,
So, as the offices are closed to-day,
I have brought it round to you.

(Handling the paper.)

What does it say?
For God's sake, read it out. You know the tongue.


MALMESBURY (with hesitation)

I have glanced it through already--more than once--
A copy having reached me, too, by now . . .
We are in the presence of a great disaster!
See here. It says that Mack, enjailed in Ulm
By Bonaparte--from four side shutting round--
Capitulated, and with all his force
Laid down his arms before his conqueror!

[PITT's face changes. A silence.]


MULGRAVE

Outrageous! Ignominy unparalleled!


PITT

By God, my lord, these statement must be false!
These foreign prints are trustless as Cheap Jack
Dumfounding yokels at a country fair.
I heed no word of it.--Impossible.
What! Eighty thousand Austrians, nigh in touch
With Russia's levies that Kutuzof leads,
To lay down arms before the war's begun?
'Tis too much!


MALMESBURY

But I fear it is too true!
Note the assevered source of the report--
One beyond thought of minters of mock tales.
The writer adds that military wits
Cry that the little Corporal now makes war
In a new way, using his soldiers' legs
And not their arms, to bring him victory.
Ha-ha! The quip must sting the Corporal's foes.

PITT (after a pause)

O vacillating Prussia! Had she moved,
Had she but planted one foot firmly down,
All this had been averted.--I must go.
'Tis sure, 'tis sure, I labour but in vain!

[MALMESBURY accompanies him to the door, and PITT walks away
disquietedly towards Whitehall, the other two regarding him
as he goes.]


MULGRAVE

Too swiftly he declines to feebleness,
And these things well might shake a stouter frame!


MALMESBURY

Of late the burden of all Europe's cares,
Of hiring and maintaining half her troops,
His single pair of shoulders has upborne,
Thanks to the obstinacy of the King.--
His thin, strained face, his ready irritation,
Are ominous signs. He may not be for long.


MULGRAVE

He alters fast, indeed,--as do events.


MALMESBURY

His labour's lost; and all our money gone!
It looks as if this doughty coalition
On which we have lavished so much pay and pains
Would end in wreck.


MULGRAVE

All is not over yet;
The gathering Russian forces are unbroke.


MALMESBURY

Well; we shall see. Should Boney vanquish these,
And silence all resistance on that side,
His move will then be backward to Boulogne,
And so upon us.


MULGRAVE

Nelson to our defence!


MALMESBURY

Ay; where is Nelson? Faith, by this time
He may be sodden; churned in Biscay swirls;
Or blown to polar bears by boreal gales;
Or sleeping amorously in some calm cave
On the Canaries' or Atlantis' shore
Upon the bosom of his Dido dear,
For all that we know! Never a sound of him
Since passing Portland one September day--
To make for Cadiz; so 'twas then believed.


MULGRAVE

He's staunch. He's watching, or I am much deceived.

[MULGRAVE departs. MALMESBURY goes within. The scene shuts.]




ACT FIFTH


SCENE I

OFF CAPE TRAFALGAR

[A bird's eye view of the sea discloses itself. It is daybreak,
and the broad face of the ocean is fringed on its eastern edge
by the Cape and the Spanish shore. On the rolling surface
immediately beneath the eye, ranged more or less in two parallel
lines running north and south, one group from the twain standing
off somewhat, are the vessels of the combined French and Spanish
navies, whose canvases, as the sun edges upward, shine in its
rays like satin.

On the western horizon two columns of ships appear in full sail,
small as moths to the aerial vision. They are bearing down
towards the combined squadrons.]


RECORDING ANGEL I (intoning from his book)

At last Villeneuve accepts the sea and fate,
Despite the Cadiz council called of late,
Whereat his stoutest captains--men the first
To do all mortals durst--
Willing to sail, and bleed, and bear the worst,
Short of cold suicide, did yet opine
That plunging mid those teeth of treble line
In jaws of oaken wood
Held open by the English navarchy
With suasive breadth and artful modesty,
Would smack of purposeless foolhardihood.


RECORDING ANGEL II

But word came, writ in mandatory mood,
To put from Cadiz, gain Toulon, and straight
At a said sign on Italy operate.
Moreover that Villeneuve, arrived as planned,
Would find Rosily in supreme command.--
Gloomy Villeneuve grows rash, and, darkly brave,
Leaps to meet war, storm, Nelson--even the grave.


SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music)

Ere the concussion hurtle, draw abreast
Of the sea.


SEMICHORUS II

Where Nelson's hulls are rising from the west,
Silently.


SEMICHORUS I


Each linen wing outspread, each man and lad
Sworn to be


SEMICHORUS II

Amid the vanmost, or for Death, or glad
Victory!

[The point of sight descends till it is near the deck of the
"Bucentaure," the flag-ship of VILLENEUVE. Present thereupon
are the ADMIRAL, his FLAG-CAPTAIN MAGENDIE, LIEUTENANT
DAUDIGNON, other naval officers and seamen.]


MAGENDIE

All night we have read their signals in the air,
Whereby the peering frigates of their van
Have told them of our trend.


VILLENEUVE

The enemy
Makes threat as though to throw him on our stern:
Signal the fleet to wear; bid Gravina
To come in from manoeuvring with his twelve,
And range himself in line.

[Officers murmur.]

I say again
Bid Gravina draw hither with his twelve,
And signal all to wear!--and come upon
The larboard tack with every bow anorth!--
So we make Cadiz in the worst event.
And patch our rags up there. As we head now
Our only practicable thoroughfare
Is through Gibraltar Strait--a fatal door!

Signal to close the line and leave no gaps.
Remember, too, what I have already told:
Remind them of it now. They must not pause
For signallings from me amid a strife
Whose chaos may prevent my clear discernment,
Or may forbid my signalling at all.
The voice of honour then becomes the chief's;
Listen they thereto, and set every stitch
To heave them on into the fiercest fight.
Now I will sum up all: heed well the charge;
EACH CAPTAIN, PETTY OFFICER, AND MAN
IS ONLY AT HIS POST WHEN UNDER FIRE.

[The ships of the whole fleet turn their bows from south to
north as directed, and close up in two parallel curved columns,
the concave side of each column being towards the enemy, and
the interspaces of the first column being, in general, opposite
the hulls of the second.]


AN OFFICER (straining his eyes towards the English fleet)

How they skip on! Their overcrowded sail
Bulge like blown bladders in a tripeman's shop
The market-morning after slaughterday!


PETTY OFFICER

It's morning before slaughterday with us,
I make so bold to bode!

[The English Admiral is seen to be signalling to his fleet. The
signal is: "ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY." A loud
cheering from all the English ships comes undulating on the wind
when the signal is read.]


VILLENEUVE

They are signalling too--Well, business soon begins!
You will reserve your fire. And be it known
That we display no admirals' flags at all
Until the action's past. 'Twill puzzle them,
And work to our advantage when we close.--
Yes, they are double-ranked, I think, like us;
But we shall see anon.


MAGENDIE

The foremost one
Makes for the "Santa Ana." In such case
The "Fougueux" might assist her.


VILLENEUVE

Be it so--
There's time enough.--Our ships will be in place,
And ready to speak back in iron words
When theirs cry Hail! in the same sort of voice.

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