The Dynasts

Act Third

SCENE I

LEIPZIG. NAPOLEON'S QUARTERS IN THE REUDNITZ SUBURB

[The sitting-room of a private mansion. Evening. A large stove-

fire and candles burning. The October wind is heard without, and

the leaded panes of the old windows shake mournfully.]

SEMICHORUS I OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music)

We come; and learn as Time's disordered dear sands run

That Castlereagh's diplomacy has wiled, waxed, won.

The beacons flash the fevered news to eyes keen bent

That Austria's formal words of war are shaped, sealed, sent.

SEMICHORUS II

So; Poland's three despoilers primed by Bull's gross pay

To stem Napoleon's might, he waits the weird dark day;

His proffered peace declined with scorn, in fell force then

They front him, with yet ten-score thousand more massed men.

[At the back of the room CAULAINCOURT, DUKE OF VICENZA, and

JOUANNE, one of Napoleon's confidential secretaries, are unpacking

and laying out the Emperor's maps and papers. In the foreground

BERTHIER, MURAT, LAURISTON, and several officers of Napoleon's

suite, are holding a desultory conversation while they await his

entry. Their countenances are overcast.]

MURAT

At least, the scheme of marching on Berlin

Is now abandoned.

LAURISTON

Not without high words:

He yielded and gave order prompt for Leipzig

But coldness and reserve have marked his mood

Towards us ever since.

BERTHIER

The march hereto

He has looked on as a retrogressive one,

And that, he ever holds, is courting woe.

To counsel it was doubtless full of risk,

And heaped us with responsibilities;

--Yet 'twas your missive, sire, that settled it (to MURAT).

How stirred he was! "To Leipzig, or Berlin?"

He kept repeating, as he drew and drew

Fantastic figures on the foolscap sheet,--

"The one spells ruin--t'other spells success,

And which is which?"

MURAT (stiffly)

What better could I do?

So far were the Allies from sheering off

As he supposed, that they had moved in march

Full fanfare hither! I was duty-bound

To let him know.

LAURISTON

Assuming victory here,

If he should let the advantage slip him by

As on the Dresden day, he wrecks us all!

'Twas damnable--to ride back from the fight

Inside a coach, as though we had not won!

CAULAINCOURT (from the back)

The Emperor was ill: I have ground for knowing.

[NAPOLEON enters.]

NAPOLEON (buoyantly)

Comrades, the outlook promises us well!

MURAT (dryly)

Right glad are we you tongue such tidings, sire.

To us the stars have visaged differently;

To wit: we muster outside Leipzig here

Levies one hundred and ninety thousand strong.

The enemy has mustered, OUTSIDE US,

Three hundred and fifty thousand--if not more.

NAPOLEON

All that is needful is to conquer them!

We are concentred here: they lie a-spread,

Which shrinks them to two-hundred-thousand power:--

Though that the urgency of victory

Is absolute, I admit.

MURAT

Yea; otherwise

The issue will be worse than Moscow, sire!

[MARMONT, DUKE OF RAGUSA (Wellington's adversary in Spain), is

announced, and enters.]

NAPOLEON

Ah, Marmont; bring you in particulars?

MARMONT

Some sappers I have taken captive, sire,

Say the Allies will be at stroke with us

The morning next to to-morrow's.--I am come,

Now, from the steeple-top of Liebenthal,

Where I beheld the enemy's fires bespot

The horizon round with raging eyes of flame:--

My vanward posts, too, have been driven in,

And I need succours--thrice ten thousand, say.

NAPOLEON (coldly)

The enemy vexes not your vanward posts;

You are mistaken.--Now, however, go;

Cross Leipzig, and remain as the reserve.--

Well, gentlemen, my hope herein is this:

The first day to annihilate Schwarzenberg,

The second Blucher. So shall we slip the toils

They are all madding to enmesh us in.

BERTHIER

Few are our infantry to fence with theirs!

NAPOLEON (cheerfully)

We'll range them in two lines instead of three,

And so we shall look stronger by one-third.

BERTHIER (incredulously)

Can they be thus deceived, sire?

NAPOLEON

Can they? Yes!

With all my practice I can err in numbers

At least one-quarter; why not they one-third?

Anyhow, 'tis worth trying at a pinch. . . .

[AUGEREAU is suddenly announced.]

Good! I've not seen him yet since he arrived.

[Enter AUGEREAU.

Here you are then at last, old Augereau!

You have been looked for long.--But you are no more

The Augereau of Castiglione days!

AUGEREAU

Nay, sire! I still should be the Augereau

Of glorious Castiglione, could you give

The boys of Italy back again to me!

NAPOLEON

Well, let it drop. . . . Only I notice round me

An atmosphere of scopeless apathy

Wherein I do not share.

AUGEREAU

There are reasons, sire,

Good reasons for despondence! As I came

I learnt, past question, that Bavaria

Swerves on the very pivot of desertion.

This adds some threescore thousand to our foes.

NAPOLEON (irritated)

That consummation long has threatened us! . . .

Would that you showed the steeled fidelity

You used to show! Except me, all are slack!

(To Murat) Why, even you yourself, my brother-in-law,

Have been inclining to abandon me!

MURAT (vehemently)

I, sire? It is not so. I stand and swear

The grievous imputation is untrue.

You should know better than believe these things,

And well remember I have enemies

Who ever wait to slander me to you!

NAPOLEON (more calmly)

Ah yes, yes. That is so.--And yet--and yet

You have deigned to weigh the feasibility

Of treating me as Austria has done! . . .

But I forgive you. You are a worthy man;

You feel real friendship for me. You are brave.

Yet I was wrong to make a king of you.

If I had been content to draw the line

At vice-king, as with young Eugene, no more,

As he has laboured you'd have laboured, too!

But as full monarch, you have foraged rather

For your own pot than mine!

[MURAT and the marshal are silent, and look at each other with

troubled countenances. NAPOLEON goes to the table at the back, and

bends over the charts with CAULAINCOURT, dictating desultory notes

to the secretaries.]

SPIRIT IRONIC

A seer might say

This savours of a sad Last-Supper talk

'Twixt his disciples and this Christ of war!

[Enter an attendant.]

ATTENDANT

The Saxon King and Queen and the Princess

Enter the city gates, your Majesty.

They seek the shelter of the civic walls

Against the risk of capture by Allies.

NAPOLEON

Ah, so? My friend Augustus, is he near?

I will be prompt to meet him when he comes,

And safely quarter him. (He returns to the map.)

[An interval. The clock strikes midnight. The EMPEROR rises

abruptly, sighs, and comes forward.]

I now retire,

Comrades. Good-night, good-night. Remember well

All must prepare to grip with gory death

In the now voidless battle. It will be

A great one and a critical; one, in brief,

That will seal France's fate, and yours, and mine!

ALL (fervidly)

We'll do our utmost, by the Holy Heaven!

NAPOLEON

Ah--what was that? (He pulls back the window-curtain.)

SEVERAL

It is our enemies,

Whose southern hosts are signalling to their north.

[A white rocket is beheld high in the air. It is followed by a

second, and a third. There is a pause, during which NAPOLEON and

the rest wait motionless. In a minute or two, from the opposite

side of the city, three coloured rockets are sent up, in evident

answer to the three white ones. NAPOLEON muses, and lets the

curtain drop.]

NAPOLEON

Yes, Schwarzenberg to Blucher. . . . It must be

To show that they are ready. So are we!

[He goes out without saying more. The marshals and other officers

withdraw. The room darkens and ends the scene.]

SCENE II

THE SAME. THE CITY AND THE BATTLEFIELD

[Leipzig is viewed in aerial perspective from a position above the

south suburbs, and reveals itself as standing in a plain, with

rivers and marshes on the west, north, and south of it, and higher

ground to the east and south-east.

At this date it is somewhat in she shape of the letter D, the

straight part of which is the river Pleisse. Except as to this

side it is surrounded by armies--the inner horseshoe of them

being the French defending the city; the outer horseshoe being

the Allies about to attack it.

Far over the city--as it were at the top of the D--at Lindenthal,

we see MARMONT stationed to meet BLUCHER when he arrives on that

side. To the right of him is NEY, and further off to the right,

on heights eastward, MACDONALD. Then round the curve towards the

south in order, AUGEREAU, LAURISTON (behind whom is NAPOLEON

himself and the reserve of Guards), VICTOR (at Wachau), and

PONIATOWSKI, near the Pleisse River at the bottom of the D. Near

him are the cavalry of KELLERMANN and MILHAUD, and in the same

direction MURAT with his, covering the great avenues of approach

on the south.

Outside all these stands SCHWARZENBERG'S army, of which, opposed

to MACDONALD and LAURISTON, are KLEINAU'S Austrians and ZIETEN'S

Prussians, covered on the flank by Cossacks under PLATOFF.

Opposed to VICTOR and PONIATOWSKI are MEERFELDT and Hesse-Homburg's

Austrians, WITTGENSTEIN'S Russians, KLEIST'S Prussians, GUILAY'S

Austrians, with LICHTENSTEIN'S and THIELMANN'S light troops: thus

reaching round across the Elster into the morass on our near left--

the lower point of the D.]

SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS (aerial music)

This is the combat of Napoleon's hope,

But not of his assurance! Shrunk in power

He broods beneath October's clammy cope,

While hemming hordes wax denser every hour.

SEMICHORUS II

He knows, he knows that though in equal fight

He stand s heretofore the matched of none,

A feeble skill is propped by numbers' might,

And now three hosts close round to crush out one!

DUMB SHOW

The Leipzig clocks imperturbably strike nine, and the battle which

is to decide the fate of Europe, and perhaps the world, begins with

three booms from the line of the allies. They are the signal for

a general cannonade of devastating intensity.

So massive is the contest that we soon fail to individualize the

combatants as beings, and can only observe them as amorphous drifts,

clouds, and waves of conscious atoms, surging and rolling together;

can only particularize them by race, tribe, and language.

Nationalities from the uttermost parts of Asia here meet those from

the Atlantic edge of Europe for the first and last time. By noon

the sound becomes a loud droning, uninterrupted and breve-like, as

from the pedal of an organ kept continuously down.

CHORUS OF RUMOURS

Now triple battle beats about the town,

And now contracts the huge elastic ring

Of fighting flesh, as those within go down,

Or spreads, as those without show faltering!

It becomes apparent that the French have a particular intention,

the Allies only a general one. That of the French is to break

through the enemy's centre and surround his right. To this end

NAPOLEON launches fresh columns, and simultaneously OUDINOT supports

VICTOR against EUGENE OF WURTEMBERG'S right, while on the other

side of him the cavalry of MILHAUD and KELLERMAN prepares to charge.

NAPOLEON'S combination is successful, and drives back EUGENE.

Meanwhile SCHWARZENBERG is stuck fast, useless in the marshes

between the Pleisse and the Elster.

By three o'clock the Allied centre, which has held out against the

assaults of the French right and left, is broken through by cavalry

under MURAT, LATOUR-MAUBOURG, and KELLERMANN.

The bells of Leipzig ring.

CHORUS OF THE PITIES

Those chimings, ill-advised and premature!

Who knows if such vast valour will endure?

The Austro-Russians are withdrawn from the marshes by SCHWARZENBERG.

But the French cavalry also get entangled in the swamps, and

simultaneously MARMONT is beaten at Mockern.

Meanwhile NEY, to the north of Leipzig, having heard the battle

raging southward, leaves his position to assist it. He has nearly

arrived when he hears BLUCHER attacking at the point he came from,

and sends back some of his divisions.

BERTRAND has kept open the west road to Lindenau and the Rhine, the

only French line of retreat.

Evening finds the battle a drawn one. With the nightfall three blank

shots reverberate hollowly.

SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS

They sound to say that, for this moaning night,

As Nature sleeps, so too shall sleep the fight;

Neither the victor.

SEMICHORUS II

But, for France and him,

Half-won is losing!

CHORUS

Yea, his hopes drop dim,

Since nothing less than victory to-day

Had saved a cause whose ruin is delay!

The night gets thicker and no more is seen.

SCENE III

THE SAME, FROM THE TOWER OF THE PLEISSENBURG

[The tower commands a view of a great part of the battlefield.

Day has just dawned, and citizens, saucer-eyed from anxiety and

sleeplessness, are discover watching.]

FIRST CITIZEN

The wind increased at midnight while I watched,

With flapping showers, and clouds that combed the moon,

Till dawn began outheaving this huge day,

Pallidly--as if scared by its own issue;

This day that the Allies with bonded might

Have vowed to deal their felling finite blow.

SECOND CITIZEN

So must it be! They have welded close the coop

Wherein our luckless Frenchmen are enjailed

With such compression that their front has shrunk

From five miles' farness to but half as far.--

Men say Napoleon made resolve last night

To marshal a retreat. If so, his way

Is by the Bridge of Lindenau.

[They look across in the cold east light at the long straight

causeway from the Ranstadt Gate at the north-west corner of the

town, and the Lindenau bridge over the Elster beyond.]

FIRST CITIZEN

Last night I saw, like wolf-packs, hosts appear

Upon the Dresden road; and then, anon,

The already stout arrays of Schwarzenberg

Grew stoutened more. I witnessed clearly, too,

Just before dark, the bands of Bernadotte

Come, hemming in the north more thoroughly.

The horizon glowered with a thousand fires

As the unyielding circle shut around.

[As it grows light they scan and define the armies.]

THIRD CITIZEN

Those lying there, 'twixt Connewitz and Dolitz,

Are the right wing of horse Murat commands.

Next, Poniatowski, Victor, and the rest.

Out here, Napoleon's centre at Probstheida,

Where he has bivouacked. Those round this way

Are his left wing with Ney, that face the north

Between Paunsdorf and Gohlis.--Thus, you see

They are skilfully sconced within the villages,

With cannon ranged in front. And every copse,

Dingle, and grove is packed with riflemen.

[The heavy sky begins to clear with the full arrival of the

morning. The sun bursts out, and the previously dark and gloomy

masses glitter in the rays. It is now seven o'clock, and with the

shining of the sun, the battle is resumed.

The army of Bohemia to the south and east, in three great columns,

marches concentrically upon NAPOLEON'S new and much-contracted line

--the first column of thirty-five thousand under BENNIGSEN; the

second, the central, forty-five thousand under BARCLAY DE TOLLY;

the third, twenty-five thousand under the PRINCE OF HESSE-HOMBURG.

An interval of suspense.]

FIRST CITIZEN

Ah, see! The French bend, falter, and fall back.

[Another interval. Then a huge rumble of artillery resounds from

the north.]

SEMICHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music)

Now Blucher has arrived; and now falls to!

Marmont withdraws before him. Bernadotte

Touching Bennigsen, joins attack with him,

And Ney must needs recede. This serves as sign

To Schwarzenberg to bear upon Probstheida--

Napoleon's keystone and dependence here.

But for long whiles he fails to win his will,

The chief being nigh--outmatching might with skill.

SEMICHORUS II

Ney meanwhile, stung still sharplier, still withdraws

Nearer the town, and met by new mischance,

Finds him forsaken by his Saxon wing--

Fair files of thrice twelve thousand footmanry.

But rallying those still true with signs and calls,

He warely closes up his remnant to the walls.

SEMICHORUS I

Around Probstheida still the conflict rolls

Under Napoleon's eye surpassingly.

Like sedge before the scythe the sections fall

And bayonets slant and reek. Each cannon-blaze

Makes the air thick with human limbs; while keen

Contests rage hand to hand. Throats shout "advance,"

And forms walm, wallow, and slack suddenly.

Hot ordnance split and shiver and rebound,

And firelocks fouled and flintless overstrew the ground.

SEMICHORUS II

At length the Allies, daring tumultuously,

Find them inside Probstheida. There is fixed

Napoleon's cardinal and centre hold.

But need to loose it grows his gloomy fear

As night begins to brown and treacherous mists appear.

CHORUS

Then, on the three fronts of this reaching field,

A furious, far, and final cannonade

Burns from two thousand mouths and shakes the plain,

And hastens the sure end! Towards the west

Bertrand keeps open the retreating-way,

Along which wambling waggons since the noon

Have crept in closening file. Dusk draws around;

The marching remnants drowse amid their talk,

And worn and harrowed horses slumber as the walk.

[In the darkness of the distance spread cries from the maimed

animals and the wounded men. Multitudes of the latter contrive to

crawl into the city, until the streets are full of them. Their

voices are heard calling.]

SECOND CITIZEN

They cry for water! Let us go down,

And do what mercy may.

[Exeunt citizens from the tower.]

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

A fire is lit

Near to the Thonberg wind-wheel. Can it be

Napoleon tarries yet? Let us go see.

[The distant firelight becomes clearer and closer.]

SCENE IV

THE SAME. AT THE THONBERG WINDMILL

[By the newly lighted fire NAPOLEON is seen walking up and down,

much agitated and worn. With him are MURAT, BERTHIER, AUGEREAU,

VICTOR, and other marshals of corps that have been engaged in this

part of the field--all perspiring, muddy, and fatigued.]

NAPOLEON

Baseness so gross I had not guessed of them!--

The thirty thousand false Bavarians

I looked on losing not unplacidly;

But these troth-swearing sober Saxonry

I reckoned staunch by virtue of their king!

Thirty-five thousand and gone! It magnifies

A failure into a catastrophe. . . .

Murat, we must retreat precipitately,

And not as hope had dreamed! Begin it then

This very hour.--Berthier, write out the orders.--

Let me sit down.

[A chair is brought out from the mill. NAPOLEON sinks into it, and

BERTHIER, stooping over the fire, begins writing to the Emperor's

dictation, the marshals looking with gloomy faces at the flaming

logs.

NAPOLEON has hardly dictated a line when he stops short. BERTHIER

turns round and finds that he has dropt asleep.]

MURAT (sullenly)

Far better not disturb him;

He'll soon enough awake!

[They wait, muttering to one another in tones expressing weary

indifference to issues. NAPOLEON sleeps heavily for a quarter of

and hour, during which the moon rises over the field. At the end

he starts up stares around him with astonishment.]

NAPOLEON

Am I awake?

Or is this all a dream?--Ah, no. Too real! . . .

And yet I have seen ere now a time like this.

[The dictation is resumed. While it is in progress there can be

heard between the words of NAPOLEON the persistent cries from the

plain, rising and falling like those of a vast rookery far away,

intermingled with the trampling of hoofs and the rumble of wheels.

The bivouac fires of the engirdling enemy glow all around except

for a small segment to the west--the track of retreat, still kept

open by BERTRAND, and already taken by the baggage-waggons.

The orders for its adoption by the entire army being completed,

NAPOLEON bids adieu to his marshals, and rides with BERTHIER and

CAULAINCOURT into Leipzig. Exeunt also the others.]

SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES

Now, as in the dream of one sick to death,

There comes a narrowing room

That pens him, body and limbs and breath,

To wait a hideous doom,

SEMICHORUS II

So to Napoleon in the hush

That holds the town and towers

Through this dire night, a creeping crush

Seems inborne with the hours.

[The scene closes under a rimy mist, which makes a lurid cloud of

the firelights.]

SCENE V

THE SAME. A STREET NEAR THE RANSTADT GATE

[High old-fashioned houses form the street, along which, from the

east of the city, is streaming a confusion of waggons, in hurried

exit through the gate westward upon the highroad to Lindenau,

Lutzen, and the Rhine.

In front of an inn called the "Prussian Arms" are some attendants

of NAPOLEON waiting with horses.]

FIRST OFFICER

He has just come from bidding the king and queen

A long good-bye. . . . Is it that they will pay

For his indulgence of their past ambition

By sharing now his ruin? Much the king

Did beg him to leave them to their lot,

And shun the shame of capture needlessly.

(He looks anxiously towards the door.)

I would he'd haste! Each minute is of price.

SECOND OFFICER

The king will come to terms with the Allies.

They will not hurt him. Though he has lost his all,

His case is not like ours!

[The cheers of the approaching enemy grow louder. NAPOLEON comes

out from the "Prussian Arms," haggard and in disordered attire.

He is about to mount, but, perceiving the blocked state of the

street, he hesitates.]

NAPOLEON

God, what a crowd!

I shall more quickly gain the gate afoot.

There is a byway somewhere, I suppose?

[A citizen approaches out of the inn.]

CITIZEN

This alley, sire, will speed you to the gate;

I shall be honoured much to point the way.

NAPOLEON

Then do, good friend. (To attendants) Bring on the horses there;

I if arrive soonest I will wait for you.

[The citizen shows NAPOLEON the way into the alley.]

CITIZEN

A garden's at the end, your Majesty,

Through which you pass. Beyond there is a door

That opens to the Elster bank unbalked.

[NAPOLEON disappears into the alley. His attendants plunge amid

the traffic with the horses, and thread their way down the street.

Another citizen comes from the door of the inn and greets the

first.]

FIRST CITIZEN

He's gone!

SECOND CITIZEN

I'll see if he succeed.

[He re-enters the inn and soon appears at an upper window.]

FIRST CITIZEN (from below)

You see him?

SECOND CITIZEN (gazing)

He is already at the garden-end;

Now he has passed out to the river-brim,

And plods along it toward the Ranstadt Gate. . . .

He finds no horses for him! . . . And the crowd

Thrusts him about, none recognizing him.

Ah--now the horses do arrive. He mounts,

And hurries through the arch. . . . Again I see him--

Now he's upon the causeway in the marsh;

Now rides across the bridge of Lindenau . . .

And now, among the troops that choke the road

I lose all sight of him.

[A third citizen enters from the direction NAPOLEON has taken.]

THIRD CITIZEN (breathlessly)

I have seen him go!

And while he passed the gate I stood i' the crowd

So close I could have touched him! Few discerned

In one so soiled the erst Arch-Emperor!--

In the lax mood of him who has lost all

He stood inert there, idly singing thin:

"Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre!"--until his suite

Came up with horses.

SECOND CITIZEN (still gazing afar)

Poniatowski's Poles

Wearily walk the level causeway now;

Also, meseems, Macdonald's corps and Reynier's.

The frail-framed, new-built bridge has broken down:

They've but the old to cross by.

FIRST CITIZEN

Feeble foresight!

They should have had a dozen.

SECOND CITIZEN

All the corps--

Macdonald's, Poniatowski's, Reynier's--all--

Confusedly block the entrance to the bridge.

And--verily Blucher's troops are through the town,

And are debouching from the Ranstadt Gate

Upon the Frenchmen's rear!

[A thunderous report stops his words, echoing through the city from

the direction in which he is gazing, and rattling all the windows.

A hoarse chorus of cries becomes audible immediately after.]

FIRST, THIRD, ETC., CITIZENS

Ach, Heaven!--what's that?

SECOND CITIZEN

The bridge of Lindenau has been upblown!

SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music)

There leaps to the sky and earthen wave,

And stones, and men, as though

Some rebel churchyard crew updrave

Their sepulchres from below.

SEMICHORUS II

To Heaven is blown Bridge Lindenau;

Wrecked regiments reel therefrom;

And rank and file in masses plough

The sullen Elster-Strom.

SEMICHORUS I

A gulf is Lindenau; and dead

Are fifties, hundreds, tens;

And every current ripples red

With marshals' blood and men's.

SEMICHORUS II

The smart Macdonald swims therein,

And barely wins the verge;

Bold Poniatowski plunges in

Never to re-emerge!

FIRST CITIZEN

Are not the French across as yet, God save them?

SECOND CITIZEN (still gazing above)

Nor Reynier's corps, Macdonald's, Lauriston's,

Nor yet the Poles. . . . And Blucher's troops approach,

And all the French this side are prisoners.

--Now for our handling by the Prussian host;

Scant courtesy for our king!

[Other citizens appear beside him at the window, and further

conversation continues entirely above.]

CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS

The Battle of the Nations now is closing,

And all is lost to One, to many gained;

The old dynastic routine reimposing,

The new dynastic structure unsustained.

Now every neighbouring realm is France's warder,

And smirking satisfaction will be feigned:

The which is seemlier?--so-called ancient order,

Or that the hot-breath'd war-horse ramp unreined?

[The October night thickens and curtains the scene.]

SCENE VI

THE PYRENEES. NEAR THE RIVER NIVELLE

[Evening. The dining-room of WELLINGTON'S quarters. The table is

laid for dinner. The battle of the Nivelle has just been fought.

Enter WELLINGTON, HILL, BERESFORD, STEWART, HOPE, CLINTON, COLBORNE,

COLE, KEMPT (with a bound-up wound), and other officers.

WELLINGTON

It is strange that they did not hold their grand position more

tenaciously against us to-day. By God, I don't quite see why we

should have beaten them!

COLBORNE

My impression is that they had the stiffness taken out of them by

something they had just heard of. Anyhow, startling news of some

kind was received by those of the Eighty-eighth we took in the

signal-redoubt after I summoned the Commandant.

WELLINGTON

Oh, what news?

COLBORNE

I cannot say, my lord, I only know that the latest number of the

_Imperial Gazette_ was seen in the hands of some of them before the

capture. They had been reading the contents, and were cast down.

WELLINGTON

That's interesting. I wonder what the news could have been?

HILL

Something about Boney's army in Saxony would be most probable.

Though I question if there's time yet for much to have been

decided there.

BERESFORD

Well, I wouldn't say that. A hell of a lot of things may have

happened there by this time.

COLBORNE

It was tantalizing, but they were just able to destroy the paper

before we could prevent them.

WELLINGTON

Did you question them?

COLBORNE

Oh yes. But they stayed sulking at being taken, and would tell us

nothing, pretending that they knew nothing. Whether much were going

on, they said, or little, between the army of the Emperor and the

army of the Allies, it was none of their business to relate it; so

they kept a gloomy silence for the most part.

WELLINGTON

They will cheer up a bit and be more communicative when they have had

some dinner.

COLE

They are dining here, my lord?

WELLINGTON

I sent them an invitation an hour ago, which they have accepted.

I could do no less, poor devils. They'll be here in a few minutes.

See that they have plenty of Madeira to whet their whistles with.

It well screw them up into a better key, and they'll not be so

reserved.

[The conversation on the day's battle becomes general. Enter as

guests French officers of the Eighty-eighth regiment now prisoners

on parole. They are welcomed by WELLINGTON and the staff, and all

sit down to dinner.

For some time the meal proceeds almost in silence; but wine is

passed freely, and both French and English officers become

talkative and merry.

WELLINGTON (to the French Commandant)

More cozy this, sir, than--I'll warrant me--

You found it in that damned redoubt to-day?

COMMANDANT

The devil if 'tis not, monseigneur, sure!

WELLINGTON

So 'tis for us who were outside, by God!

COMMANDANT (gloomily)

No; we were not at ease! Alas, my lord,

'Twas more than flesh and blood could do, to fight

After such paralyzing tidings came.

More life may trickle out of men through thought

Than through a gaping wound.

WELLINGTON

Your reference

Bears on the news from Saxony, I infer?

SECOND FRENCH OFFICER

Yes: on the Emperor's ruinous defeat

At Leipzig city--brought to our startled heed

By one of the _Gazettes_ just now arrived.

[All the English officers stop speaking, and listen eagerly.]

WELLINGTON

Where are the Emperor's headquarters now?

COMMANDANT

My lord, there are no headquarters.

WELLINGTON

No headquarters?

COMMANDANT

There are no French headquarters now, my lord,

For there is no French army! France's fame

Is fouled. And how, then, could we fight to-day

With our hearts in our shoes!

WELLINGTON

Why, that bears out

What I but lately said; it was not like

The brave men who have faced and foiled me here

So many a long year past, to give away

A stubborn station quite so readily.

BERESFORD

And what, messieurs, ensued at Leipzig then?

SEVERAL FRENCH OFFICERS

Why, sirs, should we conceal it? Thereupon

Part of our army took the Lutzen road;

Behind a blown-up bridge. Those in advance

Arrived at Lutzen with the Emperor--

The scene of our once famous victory!

In such sad sort retreat was hurried on,

Erfurt was gained with Blucher hot at heel.

To cross the Rhine seemed then our only hope;

Alas, the Austrians and the Bavarians

Faced us in Hanau Forest, led by Wrede,

And dead-blocked our escape.

WELLINGTON

Ha. Did they though?

SECOND FRENCH OFFICER

But if brave hearts were ever desperate,

Sir, we were desperate then! We pierced them through,

Our loss unrecking. So by Frankfurt's walls

We fared to Mainz, and there recrossed the Rhine.

A funeral procession, so we seemed,

Upon the long bridge that had rung so oft

To our victorious feet! . . . What since has coursed

We know not, gentlemen. But this we know,

That Germany echoes no French footfall!

AN ENGLISH OFFICER

One sees not why it should.

SECOND FRENCH OFFICER

We'll leave it so.

[Conversation on the Leipzig disaster continues till the dinner

ends The French prisoners courteously take their leave and go

out.]

WELLINGTON

Very good set of fellows. I could wish

They all were mine! . . .Well, well; there was no crime

In trying to ascertain these fat events:

They would have sounded soon from other tongues.

HILL

It looks like the first scene of act the last

For our and all men's foe!

WELLINGTON

I count to meet

The Allies upon the cobble-stones of Paris

Before another half-year's suns have shone.

--But there's some work for us to do here yet:

The dawn must find us fording the Nivelle!

[Exeunt WELLINGTON and officers. The room darkens.]

In the 1600s, Balthasar Gracian, a jesuit priest wrote 300 aphorisms on living life called "The Art of Worldly Wisdom." Join our newsletter below and read them all, one at a time.