SEMICHORUS II
Next behind its back
Comes Count Lobau, left of the Brussels track;
Then Domon’s horse, the horse of Subervie;
Kellermann’s cuirassed troopers twinkle-tipt,
And, backing d’Erlon, Milhaud’s horse, equipt
Likewise in burnished steelwork sunshine-dipt:
So ranks the second line refulgently.
SEMICHORUS I
The third and last embattlement reveals
D’Erlon’s, Lobau’s, and Reille’s foot-cannoniers,
And horse-drawn ordnance too, on massy wheels,
To strike with cavalry where space appears.
SEMICHORUS II
The English front, to left, as flanking force,
Has Vandeleur’s hussars, and Vivian’s horse;
Next them pace Picton’s rows along the crest;
The Hanoverian foot-folk; Wincke; Best;
Bylandt’s brigade, set forward fencelessly,
Pack’s northern clansmen, Kempt’s tough infantry,
With gaiter, epaulet, spat, and {philibeg};
While Halkett, Ompteda, and Kielmansegge
Prolong the musters, near whose forward edge
Baring invests the Farm of Holy Hedge.
SEMICHORUS I
Maitland and Byng in Cooke’s division range,
And round dun Hougomont’s old lichened sides
A dense array of watching Guardsmen hides
Amid the peaceful produce of the grange,
Whose new-kerned apples, hairy gooseberries green,
And mint, and thyme, the ranks intrude between.—
Last, westward of the road that finds Nivelles,
Duplat draws up, and Adam parallel.
SEMICHORUS II
The second British line—embattled horse—
Holds the reverse slopes, screened, in ordered course;
Dornberg’s, and Arentsschildt’s, and Colquhoun-Grant’s,
And left of them, behind where Alten plants
His regiments, come the “Household” Cavalry;
And nigh, in Picton’s rear, the trumpets call
The “Union” brigade of Ponsonby.
Behind these the reserves. In front of all,
Or interspaced, with slow-matched gunners manned,
Upthroated rows of threatful ordnance stand.
[The clock of Nivelles convent church strikes eleven in the
distance. Shortly after, coils of starch-blue smoke burst into
being along the French lines, and the English batteries respond
promptly, in an ominous roar that can be heard at Antwerp.
A column from the French left, six thousand strong, advances on
the plantation in front of the chateau of Hougomont. They are
played upon by the English ordnance; but they enter the wood,
and dislodge some battalions there. The French approach the
buildings, but are stopped by a loop-holed wall with a mass of
English guards behind it. A deadly fire bursts from these through
the loops and over the summit.
NAPOLÉON orders a battery of howitzers to play upon the building.
Flames soon burst from it; but the foot-guards still hold the
courtyard.]
SCENE II
THE SAME. THE FRENCH POSITION
[On a hillock near the farm of Rossomme a small table from the
farmhouse has been placed; maps are spread thereon, and a chair
is beside it. NAPOLÉON, SOULT, and other marshals are standing
round, their horses waiting at the base of the slope.
NAPOLÉON looks through his glass at Hougomont. His elevated face
makes itself distinct in the morning light as a gloomy resentful
countenance, blue-black where shaven, and stained with snuff, with
powderings of the same on the breast of his uniform. His stumpy
figure, being just now thrown back, accentuates his stoutness.]
NAPOLÉON
Let Reille be warned that these his surly sets
On Hougomont chateau, can scarce defray
Their mounting bill of blood. They do not touch
The core of my intent—to pierce and roll
The centre upon the right of those opposed.
Thereon will turn the outcome of the day,
In which our odds are ninety to their ten!
SOULT
Yes—prove there time and promptitude enough
To call back Grouchy here. Of his approach
I see no sign.
NAPOLÉON [roughly]
Hours past he was bid come.
—But naught imports it! We are enough without him.
You have been beaten by this Wellington,
And so you think him great. But let me teach you
Wellington is no foe to reckon with.
His army, too, is poor. This clash to-day
Is more serious for our seasoned files
Than breakfasting.