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The Dynasts: An Epic Drama Of The War With Napoleon, a play by Thomas Hardy |
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Part 3 - Act 7 - Scene 2. The Same. The French Position |
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_ PART THIRD. ACT SEVENTH. SCENE II. [On a hillock near the farm of Rossomme a small table from the farmhouse has been placed; maps are spread thereon, and a chair is beside it. NAPOLEON, SOULT, and other marshals are standing round, their horses waiting at the base of the slope. NAPOLEON looks through his glass at Hougomont. His elevated face makes itself distinct in the morning light as a gloomy resentful countenance, blue-black where shaven, and stained with snuff, with powderings of the same on the breast of his uniform. His stumpy figure, being just now thrown back, accentuates his stoutness.]
Let Reille be warned that these his surly sets
Yes--prove there time and promptitude enough
Hours past he was bid come.
Such is my earnest hope.
Observe that Wellington still labours on, [WELLINGTON can, in fact, be seen detaching from his main line several companies of Guards to check the aims of the French on Hougomont.] Let me re-word my tactics. Ney leads off [Enter an aide-de-camp.]
From Marshal Ney,
Which he shall have [NAPOLEON turns his glass to an upland four or five miles off on the right, known as St. Lambert's Chapel Hill. Gazing more and more intently, he takes rapid pinches of snuff in excitement. NEY'S columns meanwhile standing for the word to advance, eighty guns being ranged in front of La Belle Alliance in support of them.] I see a darkly crawling, slug-like shape
Verily troops;
If troops at all, they are Grouchy's. Why misgive,
It seems a wood.
It is the creeping shadow from a cloud.
It is a mass of stationary foot; [NAPOLEON sends off the order for NEY'S attack--the grand assault on the English midst, including the farm of La Haye Sainte. It opens with a half-hour's thunderous discharge of artillery, which ceases at length to let d'Erlon's infantry pass. Four huge columns of these, shouting defiantly, push forwards in face of the reciprocal fire from the cannon of the English. Their effrontery carries them so near the Anglo-Allied lines that the latter waver. But PICTON brings up PACK'S brigade, before which the French in turn recede, though they make an attempt in La Haye Sainte, whence BARING'S Germans pour a resolute fire. WELLINGTON, who is seen afar as one of a group standing by a great elm, orders OMPTEDA to send assistance to BARING, as may be gathered from the darting of aides to and fro between the points, like house-flies dancing their quadrilles. East of the great highway the right columns of D'ERLON'S corps have climbed the slopes. BYLANDT'S sorely exposed Dutch are broken, and in their flight disorder the ranks of the English Twenty-eighth, the Carabineers of the Ninety-fifth being also dislodged from the sand-pit they occupied.]
All prospers marvellously! Gomont is hemmed; [SIR TOMAS PICTON, seeing what is happening orders KEMPT'S brigade forward. It volleys murderously DONZELOT'S columns of D'ERLON'S corps, and repulses them. As they recede PICTON is beheld shouting an order to charge.]
I catch a voice that cautions Picton now [His tall, stern, saturnine figure with its bronzed complexion is on nearer approach discerned heading the charge. As he advances to the slope between the cross-roads and the sand-pit, riding very conspicuously, he falls dead, a bullet in his forehead. His aide, assisted by a soldier, drags the body beneath a tree and hastens on. KEMPT takes his command. Next MARCOGNET is repulsed by PACK'S brigade. D'ERLON'S infantry and TRAVERS'S cuirassiers are charged by the Union Brigade of Scotch(23) Greys, Royal Dragoons, and Inniskillens, and cut down everywhere, the brigade following them so furiously the LORD UXBRIDGE tries in vain to recall it. On its coming near the French it is overwhelmed by MILHAUD'S cuirassiers, scarcely a fifth of the brigade returning. An aide enters to NAPOLEON from GENERAL DOMON.]
The General, on a far reconnaissance,
Then where is General Grouchy? [Enter COLONEL MARBOT with a prisoner.] Aha--a Prussian, too! How comes he here?
Sire, my hussars have captured him near Lasnes--
What force looms yonder on St. Lambert's Hill?
General Count Bulow's van, your Majesty. [A thoughtful scowl crosses NAPOLEONS'S sallow face.]
Where, then, did your main army lie last night?
At Wavre.
But clashed it with no Frenchmen there?
With none. We deemed they had marched on Plancenoit.
Take him away. (The prisoner is removed.) Has Grouchy's whereabouts Been sought, to apprize him of this Prussian trend?
Certainly, sire. I sent a messenger.
A messenger! Had my poor Berthier been here [The scene shifts.]
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