Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated)
Page 811
cause to states afar,
II
Traverse the waters borne by one of such; and thereto Bonaparte's
responses are:
I
"The principles of honour and of truth which ever actuate the
sender's mind
II
"Herein are written largely! Take our thanks: we read that
this conjuncture undesigned
I
"Unfolds felicitous means of showing you that still our eyes
are set, as yours, on peace,
II
"To which great end the Treaty of Amiens must be the ground-
work of our amities."
I
From London then: "The path to amity the King of England
studies to pursue;
II
"With Russia hand in hand he is yours to close the long
convulsions thrilling Europe through."
I
Still fare the shadowy missioners across, by Dover-road and
Calais Channel-track,
II
From Thames-side towers to Paris palace-gates; from Paris
leisurely to London back.
I
Till thus speaks France: "Much grief it gives us that, being
pledged to treat, one Emperor with one King,
II
"You yet have struck a jarring counternote and tone that keys
not with such promising.
I
"In these last word, then, of this pregnant parle; I trust I
may persuade your Excellency
II
"That in no circumstance, on no pretence, a party to our pact can
Russia be."
SPIRIT SINISTER
Fortunately for the manufacture of corpses by machinery Napoleon
sticks to this veto, and so wards off the awkward catastrophe of
a general peace descending upon Europe. Now England.
RUMOURS [continuing]
I
Thereon speeds down through Kent and Picardy, evenly as some
southing sky-bird's shade:
II
"We gather not from your Imperial lines a reason why our words
should be reweighed.
I
"We hold Russia not as our ally that is to be: she stands fully-
plighted so;
II
"Thus trembles peace upon this balance-point: will you that
Russia be let in or no?"
I
Then France rolls out rough words across the strait: "To treat
with you confederate with the Tsar,
II
"Presumes us sunk in sloughs of shamefulness from which we yet
stand gloriously afar!
I
"The English army must be Flanders-fed, and entering Picardy with
pompous prance,
II
"To warrant such! Enough. Our comfort is, the crime of further
strife lies not with France."
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Alas! what prayer will save the struggling lands,
Whose lives are ninepins to these bowling hands?
CHORUS OF RUMOURS
France secretly with—Russia plights her troth!
Britain, that lonely isle, is slurred by both.
SPIRIT SINISTER
It is as neat as an uncovered check at chess! You may now mark
Fox's blank countenance at finding himself thus rewarded for the
good turn done to Bonaparte, and at the extraordinary conduct of
his chilly friend the Muscovite.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
His hand so trembles it can scarce retain
The quill wherewith he lets Lord Yarmouth know
Reserve is no more needed!
SPIRIT IRONIC
Now enters another character of this remarkable little piece—Lord
Lauderdale—and again the messengers fly!
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
But what strange figure, pale and noiseless, comes,
By us perceived, unrecognized by those,
Into the very closet and retreat
Of England's Minister?
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
The Tipstaff he
Of the Will, the Many-masked, my good friend Death.—
The statesman's feeble form you may perceive
Now hustled into the Invisible,
And the unfinished game of Dynasties
Left to proceed without him!
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Here, then, ends
My hope for Europe's reason-wrought repose!
He was the friend of peace—did his great best
To shed her balms upon humanity;
And now he's gone! No substitute remains.
SPIRIT IRONIC
Ay; the remainder of the episode is frankly farcical. Negotiations
are again affected; but finally you discern Lauderdale applying for
passports; and the English Parliament declares to the nation that
peace with France cannot be made.
RUMOURS [concluding]
I
The smouldering dudgeon of the Prussian king, meanwhile, upon the
horizon's rim afar
II
Bursts into running flame, that all his signs of friendliness were
met by moves for war.
I
Attend and hear, for hear ye faintly may, his manifesto made at
Erfurt town,
II
That to arms only dares he now confide the safety and the honour
of his crown!
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Draw down the curtain, then, and overscreen
This too-protracted verbal fencing-scene;
And let us turn to clanging foot and horse,
Ordnance, and all the enginry of Force!
[Clouds close over the perspective.]
SCENE III
THE STREETS OF BERLIN
[It is afternoon, and the thoroughfares are crowded with citizens
in an excited and anxious mood. A central path is left open for
some expected arrival.
There enters on horseback a fair woman, whose rich brown curls
stream flutteringly in the breeze, and whose long blue habit
flaps against the flank of her curvetting white mare. She is
the renowned LOUISA, QUEEN OF PRUSSIA, riding at the head of a
regiment of hussars and wearing their uniform. As she prances
along the thronging citizens acclaim her enthusiastically.]
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Who is this fragile fair, in fighting trim?
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
She is the pride of Prussia, whose resolve
Gives ballast to the purpose of her spouse,
And holds him to what men call governing.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Queens have engaged in war; but war's loud trade
Rings with a roar unnatural, fitful, forced,
Practised by woman's hands!
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Of her view
The enterprise is that of scores of men,
The strength but half-a-ones.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Would fate had ruled
The valour had been his, hers but the charm!
SPIRIT OF RUMOUR
But he has nothing on't, and she has all.
The shameless satires of the bulletins
dispatched to Paris, thence the wide world through,
Disturb the dreams of her by those who love her,
And thus her brave adventurers for the realm
Have blurred her picture, soiled her gentleness,
And wrought her credit harm.
FIRST CITIZEN [vociferously]
Yes, by God: send and ultimatum to Paris, by God; that's what we'll
; do, by God. The Confederation of the Rhine was the evil thought of
an evil man bent on ruining us!
SECOND CITIZEN
This country double-faced and double-tongued,
This France, or rather say, indeed, this Man—
[Peoples are honest dealers in the mass]—
This man, to sign a stealthy scroll with Russia
That shuts us off from all indemnities,
While swearing faithful friendship with our King,
And, still professing our safe wardenry,
To fatten other kingdoms at our cost,
Insults us grossly, and makes Europe clang
With echoes of our wrongs. The little states
Of this antique and homely German land
Are severed from their blood-allies and kin—
Hereto of one tradition, interest, hope—
In calling lord this rank adventurer,
Who'll thrust them as a sword against ourselves.—
Surely Great Frederick sweats within his tomb!
THIRD CITIZEN
Well, we awake, though we have slumbered long,
And She is sent by Heaven to kindle us.
[The QUEEN approaches to pass back again with her suite. The
vociferous applause is repeated. They regard her as she nears.]
To cry her Amazon, a blusterer,
A brazen comrade of the bold dragoons
Whose uniform she dons! Her, whose each act
Shows but a mettled modest woman's zeal,
Without a hazard of her dignity
Or moment's sacrifice of seemliness,
To fend off ill from home!
FOURTH CITIZEN [entering]
The tidings fly that Russian Alexander
Declines with emphasis to ratify
The pact of his ambassador with France,
And that the offer made the English King
To compensate the latter at our cost
Has not been taken.
THIRD CITIZEN
And it never will be!
Thus evil does not always flourish, faith.
Throw down the gage while god is fair to us;
He may be foul anon!
[A pause.]
FIFTH CITIZEN [entering]
Our ambassador Lucchesini is already leaving Paris. He could stand
the Emperor no longer, so the Emperor takes his place, has decided
to order his snuff by the ounce and his candles by the pound, lest
he should not be there long enough to use more.
[The QUEEN goes by, and they gaze at here and at the escort of
soldiers.]
Haven't we soldiers? Haven't we the Duke of Brunswick to command
'em? Haven't we provisions, hey? Haven't we fortresses and an
Elbe, to bar the bounce of an invader?
[The cavalcade passes out of sight and the crowd draws off.]
FIRST CITIZEN
By God, I must to beer and 'bacco, to soften my rage!
[Exeunt citizens.]
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
So doth the Will objectify Itself
In likeness of a sturdy people's wrath,
Which takes no count of the new trends of time,
Trusting ebbed glory in a present need.—
What if their strength should equal not their fire,
And their devotion dull their vigilance?—
Uncertainly, by fits, the Will doth work
In Brunswick's blood, their chief, as in themselves;
It ramifies in streams that intermit
And make their movement vague, old-fashioned, slow
To foil the modern methods counterposed!
[Evening descends on the city, and it grows dusk. The soldiers
being dismissed from duty, some young officers in a frolic of
defiance halt, draw their swords and whet them on the steps of
the FRENCH AMBASSADOR'S residence as they pass. The noise of
whetting is audible through the street.]
CHORUS OF THE PITIES [aerial music]
The soul of a nation distrest
Is aflame,
And heaving with eager unrest
In its aim
To assert its old prowess, and stouten its chronicled fame!
SEMICHORUS I
It boils in a boisterous thrill
Through the mart,
Unconscious well-nigh as the Will
Of its part:
Would it wholly might be so, and feel not the forthcoming smart!
SEMICHORUS II
In conclaves no voice of reflection
Is heard,
King, Councillors, grudge circumspection
A word,
And victory is visioned, and seemings as facts are averred.
CHORUS
Yea, the soul of a nation distrest
Is aflame,
And heaving with eager unrest
In its aim
At supreme desperations to blazon the national name!
[Midnight strikes, lights are extinguished one by one, and the
scene disappears.]
SCENE IV
THE FIELD OF JENA
[Day has just dawned through a grey October haze. The French,
with their backs to the nebulous light, loom out and show
themselves to be already under arms; LANNES holding the centre,
NEY the right, SOULT the extreme right, and AUGEREAU the left.
The Imperial Guard and MURAT'S cavalry are drawn up on the
Landgrafenberg, behind the centre of the French position. In
a valley stretching along to the rear of this height flows
northward towards the Elbe the little river Saale, on which
the town of Jena stands.
On the irregular plateaux in front of the French lines, and almost
close to the latter, are the Prussians un TAUENZIEN; and away on
their right rear towards Weimar the bulk of the army under PRINCE
HOHENLOHE. The DUKE OF BRUNSWICK [father of the Princess of
Wales] is twelve miles off with his force at Auerstadt, in the
valley of the Ilm.
Enter NAPOLEON, and men bearing torches who escort him. He moves
along the front of his troops, and is lost to view behind the
mist and surrounding objects. But his voice is audible.]
NAPOLEON
Keep you good guard against their cavalry,
In past repute the formidablest known,
And such it may be now; so asks our heed.
Receive it, then, in square, unflinchingly.—
Remember, men, last year you captured Ulm,
So make no doubt that you will vanquish these!
SOLDIERS
Long live the Emperor! Advance, advance!
DUMB SHOW
Almost immediately glimpses reveal that LANNES' corps is moving
forward, and amid an unbroken clatter of firelocks spreads out
further and wider upon the stretch of country in front of the
Landgrafenberg. The Prussians, surprised at discerning in the
fog such masses of the enemy close at hand, recede towards the
Ilm.
From PRINCE HOHENLOHE, who is with the body of the Prussians on
the Weimar road to the south, comes perspiring the bulk of the
infantry to rally the retreating regiments of TAUENZIEN, and he
hastens up himself with the cavalry and artillery. The action
is renewed between him and NEY as the clocks of Jena strike ten.
But AUGEREAU is seen coming to Ney's assistance on one flank of
the Prussians, SOULT bearing down on the other, while NAPOLEON
on the Landgrafenberg orders the Imperial Guard to advance. The
doomed Prussians are driven back, this time more decisively,
falling in great numbers and losing many as
prisoners as they
reel down the sloping land towards the banks of the Ilm behind
them. GENERAL RUCHEL, in a last despairing effort to rally,
faces the French onset in person and alone. He receives a bullet
through the chest and falls dead.
The crisis of the struggle is reached, though the battle is not
over. NAPOLEON, discerning from the Landgrafenberg that the
decisive moment has come, directs MURAT to sweep forward with all
his cavalry. It engages the shattered Prussians, surrounds them,
and cuts them down by thousands.
From behind the horizon, a dozen miles off, between the din of guns
in the visible battle, there can be heard an ominous roar, as of a
second invisible battle in progress there. Generals and other
officers look at each other and hazard conjectures between whiles,
the French with exultation, the Prussians gloomily.
HOHENLOHE
That means the Duke of Brunswick, I conceive,
Impacting on the enemy's further force
Led by, they say, Davout and Bernadotte.
God grant his star less lurid rays then ours,
Or this too pregnant, hoarsely-groaning day
Shall, ere its loud delivery be done,
Have twinned disasters to the fatherland
That fifty years will fail to sepulchre!
Enter a straggler on horseback.
STRAGGLER
Prince, I have circuited by Auerstadt,
And bring ye dazzling tidings of the fight,
Which, if report by those who saw't be true,
Has raged thereat from clammy day-dawn on,
And left us victors!
HOHENLOHE
Thitherward go I,
And patch the mischief wrought upon us here!
Enter a second and then a third straggler.
Well, wet-faced men, whence come ye? What d'ye bring?
STRAGGLER II
Your Highness, I rode straight from Hassenhausen,
Across the stream of battle as it boiled
Betwixt that village and the banks of Saale,
And such the turmoil that no man could speak
On what the issue was!
HOHENLOHE [To Straggler III]
Can you add aught?
STRAGGLER III
Nothing that's clear, your Highness.
HOHENLOHE
Man, your mien
Is that of one who knows, but will not say.
Detain him here.
STRAGGLER III
The blackness of my news,
Your Highness, darks my sense!... I saw this much:
His charging grenadiers, received in the face
A grape-shot stroke that gouged out half of it,
Proclaiming then and there his life fordone.
HOHENLOHE
Fallen? Brunswick! Reed in council, rock in fire...
Ah, this he looked for. Many a time of late