by Thomas Hardy
This brief amendment therefore I submit
To limit Ministers' aggressiveness
And make self-safety all their chartering:
"We at the same time earnestly implore
That the Prince Regent graciously induce
Strenuous endeavours in the cause of peace,
So long as it be done consistently
With the due honour of the English crown." [Cheers.]
CASTLEREAGH
The arguments of Members opposite
Posit conditions which experience proves
But figments of a dream;—that honesty,
Truth, and good faith in this same Bonaparte
May be assumed and can be acted on:
This of one who is loud to violate
Bonds the most sacred, treaties the most grave!...
It follows not that since this realm was won
To treat with Bonaparte at Chatillon,
It can treat now. And as for assassination,
The sentiments outspoken here to-night
Are much more like to urge to desperate deeds
Against the persons of our good Allies,
Than are, against Napoleon, statements signed
By the Vienna plenipotentiaries!
We are, in fine, too fully warranted
On moral grounds to strike at Bonaparte,
If we at any crisis reckon it
Expedient so to do. The Government
Will act throughout in concert with the Allies,
And Ministers are well within their rights
To claim that their responsibility
Be not disturbed by hackneyed forms of speech ["Oh, oh"]
Upon war's horrors, and the bliss of peace,—
Which none denies! [Cheers.]
PONSONBY
I ask the noble lord,
If that his meaning and pronouncement be
Immediate war?
CASTLEREAGH
I have not phrased it so.
OPPOSITION CRIES
The question is unanswered!
[There are excited calls, and the House divides. The result is
announced as thirty-seven for WHITBREAD'S amendment, and against
it two hundred and twenty. The clock strikes twelve as the House
adjourns.]
SCENE VI
WESSEX. DURNOVER GREEN, CASTERBRIDGE
[On a patch of green grass on Durnover Hill, in the purlieus of
Casterbridge, a rough gallows has been erected, and an effigy of
Napoleon hung upon it. Under the effigy are faggots of brushwood.
It is the dusk of a spring evening, and a great crowd has gathered,
comprising male and female inhabitants of the Durnover suburb
and villagers from distances of many miles. Also are present
some of the county yeomanry in white leather breeches and scarlet,
volunteers in scarlet with green facings, and the REVEREND MR.
PALMER, vicar of the parish, leaning against the post of his
garden door, and smoking a clay pipe of preternatural length.
Also PRIVATE CANTLE from Egdon Heath, and SOLOMON LONGWAYS of
Casterbridge. The Durnover band, which includes a clarionet,
{serpent,} oboe, tambourine, cymbals, and drum, is playing "Lord
Wellington's Hornpipe."]
RUSTIC [wiping his face]
Says I, please God I'll lose a quarter to zee he burned! And I left
Stourcastle at dree o'clock to a minute. And if I'd known that I
should be too late to zee the beginning on't, I'd have lost a half
to be a bit sooner.
YEOMAN
Oh, you be soon enough good-now. He's just going to be lighted.
RUSTIC
But shall I zee en die? I wanted to zee if he'd die hard,
YEOMAN
Why, you don't suppose that Boney himself is to be burned here?
RUSTIC
What—not Boney that's to be burned?
A WOMAN
Why, bless the poor man, no! This is only a mommet they've made of
him, that's got neither chine nor chitlings. His innerds be only a
lock of straw from Bridle's barton.
LONGWAYS
He's made, neighbour, of a' old cast jacket and breeches from our
barracks here. Likeways Grammer Pawle gave us Cap'n Meggs's old
Zunday shirt that she'd saved for tinder-box linnit; and Keeper
Tricksey of Mellstock emptied his powder-horn into a barm-bladder,
to make his heart wi'.
RUSTIC [vehemently]
Then there's no honesty left in Wessex folk nowadays at all! "Boney's
going to be burned on Durnover Green to-night,"— that was what I
thought, to be sure I did, that he'd been catched sailing from his
islant and landed at Budmouth and brought to Casterbridge Jail, the
natural retreat of malefactors!—False deceivers—making me lose a
quarter who can ill afford it; and all for nothing!
LONGWAYS
'Tisn't a mo'sel o' good for thee to cry out against Wessex folk, when
'twas all thy own stunpoll ignorance.
[The VICAR OF DURNOVER removes his pipe and spits perpendicularly.]
VICAR
My dear misguided man, you don't imagine that we should be so inhuman
in this Christian country as to burn a fellow creature alive?
RUSTIC
Faith, I won't say I didn't! Durnover folk have never had the
highest of Christian character, come to that. And I didn't know
but that even a pa'son might backslide to such things in these gory
times—I won't say on a Zunday, but on a week-night like this—when
we think what a blasphemious rascal he is, and that there's not a
more charnel-minded villain towards womenfolk in the whole world.
[The effigy has by this time been kindled, and they watch it burn,
the flames making the faces of the crowd brass-bright, and lighting
the grey tower of Durnover Church hard by.]
WOMAN [singing]
Bayonets and firelocks!
I wouldn't my mammy should know't
But I've been kissed in a sentry-box,
Wrapped up in a soldier's coat!
PRIVATE CANTLE
Talk of backsliding to burn Boney, I can backslide to anything
when my blood is up, or rise to anything, thank God for't! Why,
I shouldn't mind fighting Boney single-handed, if so be I had
the choice o' weapons, and fresh Rainbarrow flints in my flint-box,
and could get at him downhill. Yes, I'm a dangerous hand with a
pistol now and then!... Hark, what's that? [A horn is heard
eastward on the London Road.] Ah, here comes the mail. Now we may
learn something. Nothing boldens my nerves like news of slaughter!
[Enter mail-coach and steaming horses. It halts for a minute while
the wheel is skidded and the horses stale.]
SEVERAL
What was the latest news from abroad, guard, when you left
Piccadilly White-Horse-Cellar!
GUARD
You have heard, I suppose, that he's given up to public vengeance,
by Gover'ment orders? Anybody may take his life in any way, fair
or foul, and no questions asked. But Marshal Ney, who was sent to
fight him, flung his arms round his neck and joined him with all
his men. Next, the telegraph from Plymouth sends news landed there
by The Sparrow, that he has reached Paris, and King Louis has
fled. But the air got hazy before the telegraph had finished, and
the name of the place he had fled to couldn't be made out.
[The VICAR OF DURNOVER blows a cloud of smoke, and agai
n spits
perpendicularly.]
VICAR
Well, I'm d—- Dear me—dear me! The Lord's will be done.
GUARD
And there are to be four armies sent against him—English, Proosian,
Austrian, and Roosian: the first two under Wellington and Blucher.
And just as we left London a show was opened of Boney on horseback
as large as life, hung up with his head downwards. Admission one
shilling; children half-price. A truly patriot spectacle!—Not that
yours here is bad for a simple country-place.
[The coach drives on down the hill, and the crowd reflectively
watches the burning.]
WOMAN [singing]
I
My Love's gone a-fighting
Where war-trumpets call,
The wrongs o' men righting
Wi' carbine and ball,
And sabre for smiting,
And charger, and all
II
Of whom does he think there
Where war-trumpets call?
To whom does he drink there,
Wi' carbine and ball
On battle's red brink there,
And charger, and all?
III
Her, whose voice he hears humming
Where war-trumpets call,
"I wait, Love, thy coming
Wi' carbine and ball,
And bandsmen a-drumming
Thee, charger and all!"
[The flames reach the powder in the effigy, which is blown to
rags. The band marches off playing "When War's Alarms," the
crowd disperses, the vicar stands musing and smoking at his
garden door till the fire goes out and darkness curtains the
scene.]
ACT SIXTH
SCENE I
THE BELGIAN FRONTIER
[The village of Beaumont stands in the centre foreground of a
birds'-eye prospect across the Belgian frontier from the French
side, being close to the Sambre further back in the scene, which
pursues a crinkled course between high banks from Maubeuge on the
left to Charleroi on the right.
In the shadows that muffle all objects, innumerable bodies of
infantry and cavalry are discerned bivouacking in and around the
village. This mass of men forms the central column of NAPOLEONS'S
army.
The right column is seen at a distance on that hand, also near
the frontier, on the road leading towards Charleroi; and the
left column by Solre-sur-Sambre, where the frontier and the river
nearly coincide
The obscurity thins and the June dawn appears.]
DUMB SHOW
The bivouacs of the central column become broken up, and a movement
ensues rightwards on Charleroi. The twelve regiments of cavalry
which are in advance move off first; in half an hour more bodies
move, and more in the next half-hour, till by eight o'clock the
whole central army is gliding on. It defiles in strands by narrow
tracks through the forest. Riding impatiently on the outskirts of
the columns is MARSHAL NEY, who has as yet received no command.
As the day develops, sight and sounds to the left and right reveal
that the two outside columns have also started, and are creeping
towards the frontier abreast with the centre. That the whole forms
one great movement, co-ordinated by one mind, now becomes apparent.
Preceded by scouts the three columns converge.
The advance through dense woods by narrow paths takes time. The
head of the middles and main column forces back some outposts, and
reaches Charleroi, driving out the Prussian general ZIETEN. It
seizes the bridge over the Sambre and blows up the gates of the
town.
The point of observation now descends close to the scene.
In the midst comes the EMPEROR with the Sappers of the Guard,
the Marines, and the Young Guard. The clatter brings the scared
inhabitants to their doors and windows. Cheers arise from some
of them as NAPOLEON passes up the steep street. Just beyond the
town, in front of the Bellevue Inn, he dismounts. A chair is
brought out, in which he sits and surveys the whole valley of the
Sambre. The troops march past cheering him, and drums roll and
bugles blow. Soon the EMPEROR is found to be asleep.
When the rattle of their passing ceases the silence wakes him. His
listless eye falls upon a half-defaced poster on a wall opposite—
the Declaration of the Allies.
NAPOLEON [reading]
"... Bonaparte destroys the only legal title on which his existence
depended.... He has deprived himself of the protection of the law,
and has manifested to the Universe that there can be neither peace
nor truce with him. The Powers consequently declare that Napoleon
Bonaparte has placed himself without the pale of civil and social
relations, and that as an enemy and disturber of the tranquillity
of the world he has rendered himself liable to public vengeance."
His flesh quivers, and he turns with a start, as if fancying that
some one may be about to stab him in the back. Then he rises,
mounts, and rides on.
Meanwhile the right column crosses the Sambre without difficulty
at Chatelet, a little lower down; the left column at Marchienne a
little higher up; and the three limbs combine into one vast army.
As the curtain of the mist is falling, the point of vision soars
again, and there is afforded a brief glimpse of what is doing far
away on the other side. From all parts of Europe long and sinister
black files are crawling hitherward in serpentine lines, like
slowworms through grass. They are the advancing armies of the
Allies. The Dumb Show ends.
SCENE II
A BALLROOM IN BRUSSELS
[It is a June midnight at the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S. A
band of stringed instruments shows in the background. The room
is crowded with a brilliant assemblage of more than two hundred
of the distinguished people sojourning in the city on account of
the war and other reasons, and of local personages of State and
fashion. The ball has opened with "The White Cockade."
Among those discovered present either dancing or looking on are
the DUKE and DUCHESS as host and hostess, their son and eldest
daughter, the Duchess's brother, the DUKE OF WELLINGTON, the
PRINCE OF ORANGE, the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK, BARON VAN CAPELLEN the
Belgian Secretary of State, the DUKE OF ARENBERG, the MAYOR OF
BRUSSELS, the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF BEAUFORT, GENERAL ALAVA, GENERAL
OUDENARDE, LORD HILL, LORD AND LADY CONYNGHAM, SIR HENRY AND LADY
SUSAN CLINTON, SIR H. AND LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE, SIR WILLIAM AND
LADY DE LANCEY, LORD UXBRIDGE, SIR JOHN BYNG, LORD PORTARLINGTON,
LORD EDWARD SOMERSET, LORD HAY, COLONEL ABERCROMBY, SIR HUSSEY
VIVIAN, SIR A. GORDON, SIR W. PONSONBY, SIR DENIS PACK, SIR JAMES
KEMPT, SIR THOMAS PICTON, GENERAL MAITLAND, COLONEL CAMERON, many
other officers, English, Hanoverian, Dutch and Belgian ladies
English and foreign, and Scotch reel-dancers from Highland
regiments.
The "Hungarian Waltz" having also been danced, the hostess calls
up the Highland soldiers to show the foreign guests what a Scotch
reel is like. The men
put their hands on their hips and tread it
out briskly. While they stand aside and rest "The Hanoverian
Dance" is called.
Enter LIEUTENANT WEBSTER, A.D.C. to the PRINCE OF ORANGE. The
Prince goes apart with him and receives a dispatch. After reading
it he speaks to WELLINGTON, and the two, accompanied by the DUKE
OF RICHMOND, retire into an alcove with serious faces. WEBSTER,
in passing back across the ballroom, exchanges a hasty word with
two of three of the guests known to him, a young officer among
them, and goes out.
YOUNG OFFICER [to partner]
The French have passed the Sambre at Charleroi!
PARTNER
What—does it mean the Bonaparte indeed
Is bearing down upon us?
YOUNG OFFICER
That is so.
The one who spoke to me in passing out
Is Aide to the Prince of Orange, bringing him
Dispatches from Rebecque, his chief of Staff,
Now at the front, not far from Braine le Comte;
He says that Ney, leading the French van-guard,
Has burst on Quatre-Bras.
PARTNER
O horrid time!
Will you, then, have to go and face him there?
YOUNG OFFICER
I shall, of course, sweet. Promptly too, no doubt.
[He gazes about the room.]
See—the news spreads; the dance is paralyzed.
They are all whispering round. [The band stops.] Here comes
one more,
He's the attache from the Prussian force
At our headquarters.
[Enter GENERAL MUFFLING. He looks prepossessed, and goes straight
to WELLINGTON and RICHMOND in the alcove, who by this time have
been joined by the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK.]
SEVERAL GUESTS [at back of room]
Yes, you see, it's true!
The army will prepare to march at once.
PICTON [to another general]
I am damn glad we are to be off. Pottering about her pinned to
petticoat tails—it does one no good, but blasted harm!
ANOTHER GUEST
The ball cannot go on, can it? Didn't the Duke know the French
were so near? If he did, how could he let us run risks so coolly?
LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE [to partner]
A deep concern weights those responsible
Who gather in the alcove. Wellington
Affects a cheerfulness in outward port,
But cannot rout his real anxiety!
[The DUCHESS OF RICHMOND goes to her husband.]
DUCHESS
