SCENE VII
BRUSSELS. THE PLACE ROYALE
[The same night, dark and sultry. A crowd of citizens throng the
broad Place. They gaze continually down the Rue de Namur, along
which arrive minute by minute carts and waggons laden with wounded
men. Other wounded limp into the city on foot. At much greater
speed enter fugitive soldiers from the miscellaneous contingents
of WELLINGTON’S army at Quatre-Bras, who gesticulate and explain
to the crowd that all is lost and that the French will soon be in
Brussels.
Baggage-carts and carriages, with and without horses, stand before
an hotel, surrounded by a medley of English and other foreign
nobility and gentry with their valets and maids. Bulletins from
the battlefield are affixed on the corner of the Place, and people
peer at them by the dim oil lights.
A rattle of hoofs reaches the ears, entering the town by the same
Namur gate. The riders disclose themselves to be Belgian hussars,
also from the field.]
SEVERAL HUSSARS
The French approach! Wellington is beaten. Bonaparte is at our heels.
[Consternation reaches a climax. Horses are hastily put-to at the
hotel: people crowd into the carriages and try to drive off. They
get jammed together and hemmed in by the throng. Unable to move
they quarrel and curse despairingly in sundry tongues.]
BARON CAPELLEN
Affix the new bulletin. It is a more assuring one, and may quiet
them a little.
[A new bulletin is nailed over the old one.]
MAYOR
Good people, calm yourselves. No victory has been won by Bonaparte.
The noise of guns heard all the afternoon became fainter towards the
end, showing beyond doubt that the retreat was away from the city.
A CITIZEN
The French are said to be forty thousand strong at Les Quatre-Bras,
and no forty thousand British marched out against them this morning!
ANOTHER CITIZEN
And it is whispered that the city archives and the treasure-chest
have been sent to Antwerp!
MAYOR
Only as a precaution. No good can be gained by panic. Sixty or
seventy thousand of the Allies, all told, face Napoléon at this
hour. Meanwhile who is to attend to the wounded that are being
brought in faster and faster? Fellow-citizens, do your duty by
these unfortunates, and believe me that when engaged in such an
act of mercy no enemy will hurt you.
CITIZENS
What can we do?
MAYOR
I invite all those who have such, to bring mattresses, sheets, and
coverlets to the Hotel de Ville, also old linen and lint from the
houses of the cures.
[Many set out on this errand. An interval. Enter a courier, who
speaks to the MAYOR and the BARON CAPELLEN.]
BARON CAPELLEN [to Mayor]
Better inform them immediately, to prevent a panic.
MAYOR [to Citizens]
I grieve to tell you that the Duke of Brunswick, whom you saw ride
out this morning, was killed this afternoon at Les Quatre-Bras. A
musket-ball passed through his bridle-hand and entered his belly.
His body is now arriving. Carry yourselves gravely.
[A lane is formed in the crowd in the direction of the Rue de
Namur; they wait. Presently an extemporized funeral procession,
with the body of the DUKE on a gun-carriage, and a small escort
of Brunswickers with carbines reversed, comes slowly up the
street, their silver death’s-heads shining in the lamplight.
The agitation of the citizens settles into a silent gloom as
the mournful train passes.]
MAYOR [to Baron Capellen]
I noticed the strange look of prepossession on his face at the ball
last night, as if he knew what was going to be.
BARON CAPELLEN
The Duchess mentioned it to me.... He hated the French, if any
man ever did, and so did his father before him! Here comes the
English Colonel Hamilton, straight from the field. He will give
us trustworthy particulars.
[Enter COLONEL HAMILTON by the Rue de Namur. He converses with
the MAYOR and the BARON on the issue of the struggle.]
MAYOR
Now I will go the Hotel de Ville, and get it ready for those wounded
who can find no room in private houses.
[Exeunt MAYOR, CAPELLEN, D’URSEL, HAMILTON, etc. severally. Many
citizens descend in the direction of the Hotel de Ville to assist.
Those who remain silently watch the carts bringing in the wounded
till a late hour. The doors of houses in the Place and elsewhere
are kept open, and the rooms within lighted, in expectation of
more arrivals from the field. A courier gallops up, who is accosted
by idlers.]
COURIER [hastily]
The Prussians are defeated at Ligny by Napoléon in person. He will
be here to-morrow.
[Exit courier.]
FIRST IDLER
The devil! Then I am for welcoming him. No Antwerp for me!
OTHER IDLERS [sotto voce]
Vive l’Empereur!
[A warm summer fog from the Lower Town covers the Parc and the
Place Royale.]