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Gilbert Parker - "The Battle Of The Strong [A Romance of Two Kingdoms], Volume 6."

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Nathaniel Hawthorne - "The Village Uncle (From Twice Told Tales)"

Nathaniel Hawthorne - "Dr. Bullivant"

The Dynasts

T >> Thomas Hardy >> The Dynasts




[They prepare to receive the northernmost column of the enemy's
ships headed by the "Victory," trying the distance by an occasional
single shot. During their suspense a discharge is heard southward,
and turning they behold COLLINGWOOD at the head of his column in
the "Royal Sovereign," just engaging with the Spanish "Santa Ana."
Meanwhile the "Victory's" mizzen-topmast, with spars and a quantity
of rigging, is seen to have fallen, her wheel to be shot away, and
her deck encumbered with dead and wounded men.]


VILLENEUVE

'Tis well! But see; their course is undelayed,
And still they near in clenched audacity!


DAUDIGNON

Which aim deft Lucas o' the "Redoubtable"
Most gallantly bestirs him to outscheme.--
See, how he strains, that on his timbers fall
Blows that were destined for his Admiral!

[During this the French ship "Redoubtable" is moving forward
to interpose itself between the approaching "Victory" and the
"Bucentaure."]


VILLENEUVE

Now comes it! The "Santisima Trinidad,"
The old "Redoubtable's" hard sides, and ours,
Will take the touse of this bombastic blow.
Your grapnels and your boarding-hatchets--ready!
We'll dash our eagle on the English deck,
And swear to fetch it!


CREW

Ay! We swear. Huzza
Long live the Emperor!

[But the "Victory" suddenly swerves to the rear of the "Bucentaure,"
and crossing her stern-waters, discharges a broadside into her and
the "Redoubtable" endwise, wrapping the scene in folds of smoke.
The point of view changes.]



SCENE II

THE SAME. THE QUARTER-DECK OF THE "VICTORY"

[The van of each division of the English fleet has drawn to the
windward side of the combined fleets of the enemy, and broken
their order, the "Victory" being now parallel to and alongside
the "Redoubtable," the "Temeraire" taking up a station on the
other side of that ship. The "Bucentaure" and the "Santisima
Trinidad" become jammed together a little way ahead. A smoke
and din of cannonading prevail, amid which the studding-sail
booms are shot away.

NELSON, HARDY, BLACKWOOD, SECRETARY SCOTT, LIEUTENANT PASCO,
BURKE the Purser, CAPTAIN ADAIR of the Marines, and other
officers are on or near the quarter-deck.]


NELSON

See, there, that noble fellow Collingwood,
How straight he helms his ship into the fire!--
Now you'll haste back to yours (to BLACKWOOD).
--We must henceforth
Trust to the Great Disposer of events,
And justice of our cause! . . .

[BLACKWOOD leaves. The battle grows hotter. A double-headed shot
cuts down seven or eight marines on the "Victory's" poop.]

Captain Adair, part those marines of yours,
And hasten to disperse them round the ship.--
Your place is down below, Burke, not up here;
Ah, yes; like David you would see the battle!

[A heavy discharge of musket-shot comes from the tops of the
"Santisima Trinidad. ADAIR and PASCO fall. Another swathe
of Marines is mowed down by chain-shot.]


SCOTT

My lord, I use to you the utmost prayers
That I have privilege to shape in words:
Remove your stars and orders, I would beg;
That shot was aimed at you.


NELSON

They were awarded to me as an honour,
And shall I do despite to those who prize me,
And slight their gifts? No, I will die with them,
If die I must.

[He walks up and down with HARDY.]


HARDY

At least let's put you on
Your old greatcoat, my lord--(the air is keen.).--
'Twill cover all. So while you still retain
Your dignities, you baulk these deadly aims


NELSON

Thank 'ee, good friend. But no,--I haven't time,
I do assure you--not a trice to spare,
As you well will see.

[A few minutes later SCOTT falls dead, a bullet having pierced
his skull. Immediately after a shot passes between the Admiral
and the Captain, tearing the instep of Hardy's shoe, and striking
away the buckle. They shake off the dust and splinters it has
scattered over them. NELSON glances round, and perceives what
has happened to his secretary.]


NELSON

Poor Scott, too, carried off! Warm work this, Hardy;
Too warm to go on long.


HARDY

I think so, too;
Their lower ports are blocked against our hull,
And our charge now is less. Each knock so near
Sets their old wood on fire.


NELSON

Ay, rotten as peat.
What's that? I think she has struck, or pretty nigh!

[A cracking of musketry.]


HARDY

Not yet.--Those small-arm men there, in her tops,
Thin our crew fearfully. Now, too, our guns
Have dipped full down, or they would rake
The "Temeraire" there on the other side.


NELSON

True.--While you deal good measure out to these,
Keep slapping at those giants over here--
The "Trinidad," I mean, and the "Bucentaure,"
To win'ard--swelling up so pompously.


HARDY

I'll see no slackness shall be shown that way.

[They part and go in their respective directions. Gunners, naked
to the waist and reeking with sweat, are now in swift action on
the several decks, and firemen carry buckets of water hither and
thither. The killed and wounded thicken around, and are being
lifted and examined by the surgeons. NELSON and HARDY meet again.]


NELSON

Bid still the firemen bring more bucketfuls,
And dash the water into each new hole
Our guns have gouged in the "Redoubtable,"
Or we shall all be set ablaze together.


HARDY

Let me once more advise, entreat, my lord,
That you do not expose yourself so clearly.
Those fellows in the mizzen-top up there
Are peppering round you quite perceptibly.


NELSON

Now, Hardy, don't offend me. They can't aim;
They only set their own rent sails on fire.--
But if they could, I would not hide a button
To save ten lives like mine. I have no cause
To prize it, I assure 'ee.--Ah, look there,
One of the women hit,--and badly, too.
Poor wench! Let some one shift her quickly down.


HARDY

My lord, each humblest sojourner on the seas,
Dock-labourer, lame longshore-man, bowed bargee,
Sees it as policy to shield his life
For those dependent on him. Much more, then,
Should one upon whose priceless presence here
Such issues hang, so many strivers lean,
Use average circumspection at an hour
So critical for us all.


NELSON

Ay, ay. Yes, yes;
I know your meaning, Hardy,; and I know
That you disguise as frigid policy
What really is your honest love of me.
But, faith, I have had my day. My work's nigh done;
I serve all interests best by chancing it
Here with the commonest.--Ah, their heavy guns
Are silenced every one! Thank God for that.


HARDY

'Tis so. They only use their small arms now.

[He goes to larboard to see what is progressing on that side
between his ship and the "Santisima Trinidad."]


OFFICER (to seaman)

Swab down these stairs. The mess of blood about
Makes 'em so slippery that one's like to fall
In carrying the wounded men below.

[While CAPTAIN HARDY is still a little way off, LORD NELSON turns
to walk aft, when a ball from one of the muskets in the mizzen-
top of the "Redoubtable" enters his left shoulder. He falls upon
his face on the deck. HARDY looks round, and sees what has
happened.]


HARDY (hastily)

Ah--what I feared, and strove to hide I feared! . . .

[He goes towards NELSON, who in the meantime has been lifted by
SERGEANT-MAJOR SECKER and two seamen.]


NELSON

Hardy, I think they've done for me at last!


HARDY

I hope not!


NELSON

Yes. My backbone is shot through.
I have not long to live.

[The men proceed to carry him below.]

Those tiller ropes
They've torn away, get instantly repaired!

[At sight of him borne along wounded there is great agitation
among the crew.]

Cover my face. There will be no good be done
By drawing their attention off to me.
Bear me along, good fellows; I am but one
Among the many darkened here to-day!

[He is carried on to the cockpit over the crowd of dead and
wounded.]

Doctor, I'm gone. I am waste o' time to you.


HARDY (remaining behind)

Hills, go to Collingwood and let him know
That we've no Admiral here.

[He passes on.]


A LIEUTENANT

Now quick and pick him off who did the deed--
That white-bloused man there in the mizzen-top.


POLLARD, a midshipman (shooting)

No sooner said than done. A pretty aim!

[The Frenchman falls dead upon the poop.

The spectacle seems now to become enveloped in smoke, and the
point of view changes.]



SCENE III

THE SAME. ON BOARD THE "BUCENTAURE"

[The bowsprit of the French Admiral's ship is stuck fast in the
stern-gallery of the "Santisima Trinidad," the starboard side of
the "Bucentaure" being shattered by shots from two English three-
deckers which are pounding her on that hand. The poop is also
reduced to ruin by two other English ships that are attacking
her from behind.

On the quarter-deck are ADMIRAL VILLENEUVE, the FLAG-CAPTAIN
MAGENDIE, LIEUTENANTS DAUDIGNON, FOURNIER, and others, anxiously
occupied. The whole crew is in desperate action of battle and
stumbling among the dead and dying, who have fallen too rapidly
to be carried below.]


VILLENEUVE

We shall be crushed if matters go on thus.--
Direct the "Trinidad" to let her drive,
That this foul tangle may be loosened clear!


DAUDIGNON

It has been tried, sir; but she cannot move.


VILLENEUVE

Then signal to the "Hero" that she strive
Once more to drop this way.

MAGENDIE

We may make signs,
But in the thickened air what signal's marked?--
'Tis done, however.


VILLENEUVE

The "Redoubtable"
And "Victory" there,--they grip in dying throes!
Something's amiss on board the English ship.
Surely the Admiral's fallen?


A PETTY OFFICER

Sir, they say
That he was shot some hour, or half, ago.--
With dandyism raised to godlike pitch
He stalked the deck in all his jewellery,
And so was hit.


MAGENDIE

Then Fortune shows her face!
We have scotched England in dispatching him. (He watches.)
Yes! He commands no more; and Lucas, joying,
Has taken steps to board. Look, spars are laid,
And his best men are mounting at his heels.


VILLENEUVE

Ah, God--he is too late! Whence came the hurl
Of heavy grape? The smoke prevents my seeing
But at brief whiles.--The boarding band has fallen,
Fallen almost to a man.--'Twas well assayed!


MAGENDIE

That's from their "Temeraire," whose vicious broadside
Has cleared poor Lucas' decks.


VILLENEUVE

And Lucas, too.
I see him no more there. His red planks show
Three hundred dead if one. Now for ourselves!

[Four of the English three-deckers have gradually closed round
the "Bucentaure," whose bowsprit still sticks fast in the gallery
of the "Santisima Trinidad." A broadside comes from one of the
English, resulting in worse havoc on the "Bucentaure." The main
and mizzen masts of the latter fall, and the boats are beaten to
pieces. A raking fire of musketry follows from the attacking
ships, to which the "Bucentaure" heroically continues still to
keep up a reply.

CAPTAIN MAGENDIE falls wounded. His place is taken by LIEUTENANT
DAUDIGNON.]


VILLENEUVE

Now that the fume has lessened, code my biddance
Upon our only mast, and tell the van
At once to wear, and come into the fire.
(Aside) If it be true that, as HE sneers, success
Demands of me but cool audacity,
To-day shall leave him nothing to desire!

[Musketry continues. DAUDIGNON falls. He is removed, his post
being taken by LIEUTENANT FOURNIER. Another crash comes, and
the deck is suddenly encumbered with rigging.]


FOURNIER

There goes our foremast! How for signalling now?


VILLENEUVE

To try that longer, Fournier, is in vain
Upon this haggard, scorched, and ravaged hulk,
Her decks all reeking with such gory shows,
Her starboard side in rents, her stern nigh gone!
How does she keep afloat?--
"Bucentaure," O lucky good old ship!
My part in you is played. Ay--I must go;
I must tempt Fate elsewhere,--if but a boat
Can bear me through this wreckage to the van.


FOURNIER

Our boats are stove in, or as full of holes
As the cook's skimmer, from their cursed balls!

[Musketry. VILLENEUVE'S Head-of-Staff, DE PRIGNY, falls wounded,
and many additional men. VILLENEUVE glances troublously from
ship to ship of his fleet.]


VILLENEUVE

How hideous are the waves, so pure this dawn!--
Red-frothed; and friends and foes all mixed therein.--
Can we in some way hail the "Trinidad"
And get a boat from her?

[They attempt to distract the attention of the "Santisima
Trinidad" by shouting.]

Impossible;
Amid the loud combustion of this strife
As well try holloing to the antipodes! . . .
So here I am. The bliss of Nelson's end
Will not be mine; his full refulgent eve
Becomes my midnight! Well; the fleets shall see
That I can yield my cause with dignity.

[The "Bucentaure" strikes her flag. A boat then puts off from the
English ship "Conqueror," and VILLENEUVE, having surrendered his
sword, is taken out from the "Bucentaure." But being unable to
regain her own ship, the boat is picked up by the "Mars," and
the French admiral is received aboard her. Point of view changes.]



SCENE IV

THE SAME. THE COCKPIT OF THE "VICTORY"

[A din of trampling and dragging overhead, which is accompanied
by a continuos ground-bass roar from the guns of the warring
fleets, culminating at times in loud concussions. The wounded
are lying around in rows for treatment, some groaning, some
silently dying, some dead. The gloomy atmosphere of the low-
beamed deck is pervaded by a thick haze of smoke, powdered wood,
and other dust, and is heavy with the fumes of gunpowder and
candle-grease, the odour of drugs and cordials, and the smell
from abdominal wounds.

NELSON, his face now pinched and wan with suffering, is lying
undressed in a midshipman's berth, dimly lit by a lantern. DR.
BEATTY, DR. MAGRATH, the Rev. DR. SCOTT the Chaplain, BURKE the
Purser, the Steward, and a few others stand around.]


MAGRATH (in a low voice)

Poor Ram, and poor Tom Whipple, have just gone..


BEATTY

There was no hope for them.

NELSON (brokenly)

Who have just died?


BEATTY

Two who were badly hit by now, my lord;
Lieutenant Ram and Mr. Whipple.


NELSON

Ah!
So many lives--in such a glorious cause. . . .
I join them soon, soon, soon!--O where is Hardy?
Will nobody bring Hardy to me--none?
He must be killed, too. Surely Hardy's dead?


A MIDSHIPMAN

He's coming soon, my lord. The constant call
On his full heed of this most mortal fight
Keeps him from hastening hither as he would.


NELSON

I'll wait, I'll wait. I should have thought of it.

[Presently HARDY comes down. NELSON and he grasp hands.]

Hardy, how goes the day with us and England?


HARDY

Well; very well, thank God for't, my dear lord.
Villeneuve their Admiral has this moment struck,
And put himself aboard the "Conqueror."
Some fourteen of their first-rates, or about,
Thus far we've got. The said "Bucentaure" chief:
The "Santa Ana," the "Redoubtable,"
The "Fougueux," the "Santisima Trinidad,"
"San Augustino, "San Francisco," "Aigle";
And our old "Swiftsure," too, we've grappled back,
To every seaman's joy. But now their van
Has tacked to bear round on the "Victory"
And crush her by sheer weight of wood and brass:
Three of our best I am therefore calling up,
And make no doubt of worsting theirs, and France.


NELSON

That's well. I swore for twenty.--But it's well.


HARDY

We'll have 'em yet! But without you, my lord,
We have to make slow plodding do the deeds
That sprung by inspiration ere you fell;
And on this ship the more particularly.


NELSON

No, Hardy.--Ever 'twas your settled fault
So modestly to whittle down your worth.
But I saw stuff in you which admirals need
When, taking thought, I chose the "Victory's" keel
To do my business with these braggarts in.
A business finished now, for me!--Good friend,
Slow shades are creeping me. . . I scarce see you.


HARDY

The smoke from ships upon our win'ard side,
And the dust raised by their worm-eaten hulks,
When our balls touch 'em, blind the eyes, in truth.


NELSON

No; it is not that dust; 'tis dust of death
That darkens me.

[A shock overhead. HARDY goes up. On or two other officers go up,
and by and by return.]

What was that extra noise?


OFFICER

The "Formidable' passed us by, my lord,
And thumped a stunning broadside into us.--
But, on their side, the "Hero's" captain's fallen;
The "Algeciras" has been boarded, too,
By Captain Tyler, and the captain shot:
Admiral Gravina desperately holds out;
They say he's lost an arm.


NELSON

And we, ourselves--
Who have we lost on board here? Nay, but tell me!


BEATTY

Besides poor Scott, my lord, and Charles Adair,
Lieutenant Ram, and Whipple, captain's clerk,
There's Smith, and Palmer, midshipmen, just killed.
And fifty odd of seamen and marines.


NELSON

Poor youngsters! Scarred old Nelson joins you soon.


BEATTY

And wounded: Bligh, lieutenant; Pasco, too,
and Reeves, and Peake, lieutenants of marines,
And Rivers, Westphall, Bulkeley, midshipmen,
With, of the crew, a hundred odd just now,
Unreckoning those late fallen not brought below.


BURKE

That fellow in the mizzen-top, my lord,
Who made it his affair to wing you thus,
We took good care to settle; and he fell
Like an old rook, smack from his perch, stone dead.


NELSON

'Twas not worth while!--He was, no doubt, a man
Who in simplicity and sheer good faith
Strove but to serve his country. Rest be to him!
And may his wife, his friends, his little ones,
If such be had, be tided through their loss,
And soothed amid the sorrow brought by me.

[HARDY re-enters.]

Who's that? Ah--here you come! How, Hardy, now?


HARDY

The Spanish Admiral's rumoured to be wounded,
We know not with what truth. But, be as 'twill,
He sheers away with all he could call round,
And some few frigates, straight to Cadiz port.

[A violent explosion is heard above the confused noises on deck.
A midshipman goes above and returns.]


MIDSHIPMAN (in the background)

It is the enemy's first-rate, the "Achille,"
Blown to a thousand atoms!--While on fire,
Before she burst, the captain's woman there,
Desperate for life, climbed from the gunroom port
Upon the rudder-chains; stripped herself stark,
And swam for the Pickle's boat. Our men in charge,
Seeing her great breasts bulging on the brine,
Sang out, "A mermaid 'tis, by God!"--then rowed
And hauled her in.--


BURKE

Such unbid sights obtrude
On death's dyed stage!


MIDSHIPMAN

Meantime the "Achille" fought on,
Even while the ship was blazing, knowing well
The fire must reach their powder; which it did.
The spot is covered now with floating men,
Some whole, the main in parts; arms, legs, trunks, heads,
Bobbing with tons of timber on the waves,
And splinter looped with entrails of the crew.


NELSON (rousing)

Our course will be to anchor. Let me know.


HARDY

But let me ask, my lord, as needs I must,
Seeing your state, and that our work's not done,
Shall I, from you, bid Admiral Collingwood
Take full on him the conduct of affairs?


NELSON (trying to raise himself)

Not while I live, I hope! No, Hardy; no.
Give Collingwood my order. Anchor all!


HARDY (hesitating)

You mean the signal's to be made forthwith?


NELSON

I do!--By God, if but our carpenter
Could rig me up a jury-backbone now,
To last one hour--until the battle's done,
I'd see to it! But here I am--stove in--
Broken--all logged and done for! Done, ay done!


BEATTY (returning from the other wounded)

My lord, I must implore you to lie calm!
You shorten what at best may not be long.


NELSON (exhausted)

I know, I know, good Beatty! Thank you well
Hardy, I was impatient. Now I am still.
Sit here a moment, if you have time to spare?

[BEATTY and others retire, and the two abide in silence, except
for the trampling overhead and the moans from adjoining berths.
NELSON is apparently in less pain, seeming to doze.]


NELSON (suddenly)

What are you thinking, that you speak no word?


HARDY (waking from a short reverie)

Thoughts all confused, my lord:--their needs on deck,
Your own sad state, and your unrivalled past;
Mixed up with flashes of old things afar--
Old childish things at home, down Wessex way.
In the snug village under Blackdon Hill
Where I was born. The tumbling stream, the garden,
The placid look of the grey dial there,
Marking unconsciously this bloody hour,
And the red apples on my father's trees,
Just now full ripe.


NELSON

Ay, thus do little things
Steal into my mind, too. But ah, my heart
Knows not your calm philosophy!--There's one--
Come nearer to me, Hardy.--One of all,
As you well guess, pervades my memory now;
She, and my daughter--I speak freely to you.
'Twas good I made that codicil this morning
That you and Blackwood witnessed. Now she rests
Safe on the nation's honour. . . . Let her have
My hair, and the small treasured things I owned,
And take care of her, as you care for me!

[HARDY promises.]


NELSON (resuming in a murmur)

Does love die with our frame's decease, I wonder,
Or does it live on ever? . . .

[A silence. BEATTY approaches.]


HARDY
Now I'll leave,
See if your order's gone, and then return.


NELSON (symptoms of death beginning to change his face)

Yes, Hardy; yes; I know it. You must go.--
Here we shall meet no more; since Heaven forfend
That care for me should keep you idle now,
When all the ship demands you. Beatty, too.
Go to the others who lie bleeding there;
Them can you aid. Me you can render none!
My time here is the briefest.--If I live
But long enough I'll anchor. . . . But--too late--
My anchoring's elsewhere ordered! . . . Kiss me, Hardy:

[HARDY bends over him.]

I'm satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty!

[HARDY brushes his eyes with his hand, and withdraws to go above,
pausing to look back before he finally disappears.]


BEATTY (watching Nelson)

Ah!--Hush around! . . .
He's sinking. It is but a trifle now
Of minutes with him. Stand you, please, aside,
And give him air.

[BEATTY, the Chaplain, MAGRATH, the Steward, and attendants
continue to regard NELSON. BEATTY looks at his watch.]


BEATTY

Two hours and fifty minutes since he fell,
And now he's going.

[They wait. NELSON dies.]


CHAPLAIN

Yes. . . . He has homed to where
There's no more sea.


BEATTY

We'll let the Captain know,
Who will confer with Collingwood at once.
I must now turn to these.

[He goes to another part of the cockpit, a midshipman ascends to
the deck, and the scene overclouds.]


CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music)

His thread was cut too slowly! When he fell.
And bade his fame farewell,
He might have passed, and shunned his long-drawn pain,
Endured in vain, in vain!


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Young Spirits, be not critical of That
Which was before, and shall be after you!


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

But out of tune the Mode and meritless
That quickens sense in shapes whom, thou hast said,
Necessitation sways! A life there was
Among these self-same frail ones--Sophocles--
Who visioned it too clearly, even while
He dubbed the Will "the gods." Truly said he,
"Such gross injustice to their own creation
Burdens the time with mournfulness for us,
And for themselves with shame."(9)--Things mechanized
By coils and pivots set to foreframed codes
Would, in a thorough-sphered melodic rule,
And governance of sweet consistency,
Be cessed no pain, whose burnings would abide
With That Which holds responsibility,
Or inexist.


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Yea, yea, yea!
Thus would the Mover pay
The score each puppet owes,
The Reaper reap what his contrivance sows!
Why make Life debtor when it did not buy?
Why wound so keenly Right that it would die?


SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Nay, blame not! For what judgment can ye blame?--
In that immense unweeting Mind is shown
One far above forethinking; processive,
Yet superconscious; a Clairvoyancy
That knows not what It knows, yet works therewith.--
The cognizance ye mourn, Life's doom to feel,
If I report it meetly, came unmeant,
Emerging with blind gropes from impercipience
By listless sequence--luckless, tragic Chance,
In your more human tongue.


SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

And hence unneeded
In the economy of Vitality,
Which might have ever kept a sealed cognition
As doth the Will Itself.


CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music)

Nay, nay, nay;
Your hasty judgments stay,
Until the topmost cyme
Have crowned the last entablature of Time.
O heap not blame on that in-brooding Will;
O pause, till all things all their days fulfil!



SCENE V

LONDON. THE GUILDHALL

[A crowd of citizens has gathered outside to watch the carriages
as they drive up and deposit guests invited to the Lord Mayor's
banquet, for which event the hall is brilliantly lit within. A
cheer rises when the equipage of any popular personage arrives
at the door.

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