SPIRIT OF RUMOUR
The cannonade of the French ordnance-lines
Has now redoubled. Columns new and dense
Of foot, supported by fleet cavalry,
Straightly impinge upon the Brunswick bands
That border the plantation of Bossu.
Above some regiments of the assaulting French
A flag like midnight swims upon the air,
To say no quarter may be looked for there!
The Brunswick soldiery, much notched and torn by the French grape-
shot, now lie in heaps. The DUKE OF BRUNSWICK himself, desperate
to keep them steady, lights his pipe, and rides slowly up and down
in front of his lines previous to the charge which follows.
SPIRIT OF RUMOUR
The French have heaved them on the Brunswickers,
And borne them back. Now comes the Duke’s told time.
He gallops at the head of his hussars—
Those men of solemn and appalling guise,
Full-clothed in black, with nodding hearsy plumes,
A shining silver skull and cross of bones
Set upon each, to byspeak his slain sire....
Concordantly, the expected bullet starts
And finds the living son.
BRUNSWICK reels to the ground. His troops, disheartened, lose their
courage and give way.
The French front columns, and the cavalry supporting them, shout
as they advance. The Allies are forced back upon the English main
position. WELLINGTON is in personal peril for a time, but he escapes
it by a leap of his horse.
A curtain of smoke drops. An interval. The curtain reascends.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Behold again the Dynasts’ gory gear!
Since we regarded, what has progressed here?
RECORDING ANGEL [in recitative]
Musters of English foot and their allies
Came palely panting by the Brussels way,
And, swiftly stationed, checked their counter-braves.
Ney, vexed by lack of like auxiliaries,
Bade then the columned cuirassiers to charge
In all their edged array of weaponcraft.
Yea; thrust replied to thrust, and fire to fire;
The English broke, till Picton prompt to prop them
Sprang with fresh foot-folk from the covering rye.
Next, Pire’s cavalry took up the charge....
And so the action sways. The English left
Is turned at Piraumont; whilst on their right
Perils infest the greenwood of Bossu;
Wellington gazes round with dubious view;
England’s long fame in fight seems sepulchered,
And ominous roars swell loudlier Ligny-ward.
SPIRIT OF RUMOUR
New rage has wrenched the battle since thou’st writ;
Hot-hasting succours of light cannonry
Lately come up, relieve the English stress;
Kellermann’s cuirassiers, both man and horse
All plated over with the brass of war,
Are rolling on the highway. More brigades
Of British, soiled and sweltering, now are nigh,
Who plunge within the boscage of Bossu;
Where in the hidden shades and sinuous creeps
Life-struggles can be heard, seen but in peeps.
Therewith the foe’s accessions harass Ney,
Racked that no needful d’Erlon darks the way!
Inch by inch NEY has to draw off: WELLINGTON promptly advances. At
dusk NEY’S army finds itself back at Frasnes, where he meets D’ERLON
coming up to his assistance, too late.
The weary English and their allies, who have been on foot ever since
one o’clock the previous morning, prepare to bivouac in front of the
cross-roads. Their fires flash up for a while; and by and by the
dead silence of heavy sleep hangs over them. WELLINGTON goes into
his tent, and the night darkens.
A Prussian courier from Ligny enters, who is conducted into the tent
to WELLINGTON.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
What tidings can a courier bring that count
Here, where such mighty things are native born?
RECORDING ANGEL [in recitative]
The fury of the tumult there begun
Scourged quivering Ligny through the afternoon:
Napoléon’s great intent grew substantive,
And on the Prussian pith and pulse he bent
His foretimed blow. Blücher, to butt the shock,
Called up his last reserves, and heading on,
With blade high brandished by his aged arm,
Spurred forward his white steed. But they, outspent,
Failed far to follow. Darkness coped the sky,
And storm, and rain with thunder. Yet once more
He cheered them on to charge. His horse, the while,
Pierced by a bullet, fell on him it bore.
He, trampled, bruised, faint, and in disarray
Dragged to another mount, was led away.
His ragged lines withdraw from sight and sound,
And their assailants camp upon the ground.