Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated)

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Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) Page 803

by Thomas Hardy


  through the Camp on the downs. You'll accompany us there?

  PITT

  I am honoured by your Majesty's commands.

  [PITT looks resignedly out of the window.]

  What curious structure do I see outside, sir?

  KING

  It's but a stage, a type of all the world. The burgesses have

  arranged it in my honour. At six o'clock this evening there are

  to be combats at single-stick to amuse the folk; four guineas

  the prize for the man who breaks most heads. Afterward there

  is to be a grinning match through horse-collars—a very humorous

  sport which I must stay here and witness; for I am interested in

  whatever entertains my subjects.

  PITT

  Not one in all the land but knows it, sir.

  KING

  Now, Mr. Pitt, you must require repose;

  Consult your own convenience then, I beg,

  On when you leave.

  PITT

  I thank your Majesty.

  [He departs as one whose purpose has failed, and the scene shuts.]

  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 A
lps

  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....

 

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