The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 189

Ah yes--I know!

[While they watch developments a cannon-shot pa.s.ses and knocks SOMERSET'S right arm to a mash. He is a.s.sisted to the rear.

NEY and FRIANT now lead forward the last and most desperate a.s.sault of the day, in charges of the Old and Middle Guard, the attack by DONZELOT and ALLIX further east still continuing as a support. It is about a quarter-past eight, and the midsummer evening is fine after the wet night and morning, the sun approaching its setting in a sky of gorgeous colours.

The picked and toughened Guard, many of whom stood in the ranks at Austerlitz and Wagram, have been drawn up in three or four echelons, the foremost of which now advances up the slopes to the Allies' position. The others follow at intervals, the drummers beating the "pas de charge."]

CHORUS OF RUMOURS [aerial music]

Twice thirty throats of couchant cannonry-- Ranked in a hollow curve, to close their blaze Upon the advancing files--wait silently Like to black bulls at gaze.

The Guard approaches nearer and more near: To touch-hole moves each match of smoky sheen: The ordnance roars: the van-ranks disappear As if wiped off the scene.

The aged Friant falls as it resounds; Ney's charger drops--his fifth on this sore day-- Its rider from the quivering body bounds And forward foots his way.

The cloven columns tread the English height, Seize guns, repulse battalions rank by rank, While horse and foot artillery heavily bite Into their front and flank.

It nulls the power of a flesh-built frame To live within that zone of missiles. Back The Old Guard, staggering, climbs to whence it came.

The fallen define its track.

[The second echelon of the Imperial Guard has come up to the a.s.sault. Its columns have borne upon HALKETT'S right. HALKETT, desperate to keep his wavering men firm, himself seizes and waves the flag of the Thirty-third, in which act he falls wounded.

But the men rally. Meanwhile the Fifty-second, covered by the Seventy-first, has advanced across the front, and charges the Imperial Guard on the flank.

The third echelon next arrives at the English lines and squares; rushes through the very focus of their fire, and seeing nothing more in front, raises a shout.

IMPERIAL GUARD

The Emperor! It's victory!

WELLINGTON

Stand up, Guards!

Form line upon the front face of the square!

[Two thousand of MAITLAND'S Guards, hidden in the hollow roadway, thereupon spring up, form as ordered, and reveal themselves as a fence of leveled firelocks four deep. The flints click in a mult.i.tude, the pans flash, and volley after volley is poured into the bear-skinned figures of the ma.s.sed French, who kill COLONEL D'OYLEY in returning fire.]

WELLINGTON

Now drive the fellows in! Go on; go on!

You'll do it now!

[COLBORNE converges on the French guard with the Fifty-second, and The former splits into two as the climax comes. ADAM, MAITLAND, and COLBORNE pursue their advantage. The Imperial columns are broken, and their confusion is increased by grape-shot from BOLTON'S battery.]

Campbell, this order next: Vivian's hussars are to support, and bear Against the cavalry towards Belle Alliance.

Go--let him know.

[Sir C. CAMPBELL departs with the order. Soon VIVIAN'S and VANDELEUR'S light horse are seen advancing, and in due time the French cavalry are rolled back.

WELLINGTON goes in the direction of the hussars with UXBRIDGE. A cannon-shot hisses past.]

UXBRIDGE [starting]

I have lost my leg, by G.o.d!

WELLINGTON

By G.o.d, and have you! Ay--the wind o' the shot Blew past the withers of my Copenhagen Like the foul sweeping of a witch's broom.-- Aha--they are giving way!

[While UXBRIDGE is being helped to the rear, WELLINGTON makes a sign to SALTOUN, Colonel of the First Footguards.]

SALTOUN [shouting]

Boys, now's your time; Forward and win!

FRENCH VOICES

The Guard gives way--we are beaten!

[They recede down the hill, carrying confusion into NAPOLEON'S centre just as the Prussians press forward at a right angle from the other side of the field. NAPOLEON is seen standing in the hollow beyond La Haye Sainte, alone, except for the presence of COUNT FLAHAULT, his aide-de-camp. His lips move with sudden exclamation.

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

He says "Now all is lost! The clocks of the world Strike my last empery-hour."

[Towards La Haye Sainte the French of DONZELOT and ALLIX, who are fighting KEMPT, PACK, KRUSE, and LAMBERT, seeing what has happened to the Old and Middle Guard, lose heart and recede likewise; so that the whole French line rolls back like a tide.

Simultaneously the Prussians are pressing forward at Papelotte and La Haye. The retreat of the French grows into a panic.]

FRENCH VOICES [despairingly]

We are betrayed!

[WELLINGTON rides at a gallop to the most salient point of the English position, halts, and waves his hat as a signal to all the army. The sign is answered by a cheer along the length of the line.]

WELLINGTON

No cheering yet, my lads; but bear ahead, Before the inflamed face of the west out there Dons blackness. So you'll round your victory!