SOULT
Such is my earnest hope.
NAPOLÉON
Observe that Wellington still labours on,
Stoutening his right behind Gomont chateau,
But leaves his left and centre as before—
Weaker, if anything. He plays our game!
[WELLINGTON can, in fact, be seen detaching from his main line
several companies of Guards to check the aims of the French on
Hougomont.]
Let me re-word my tactics. Ney leads off
By seizing Mont Saint-Jean. Then d’Erlon stirs,
And heaves up his division from the left.
The second corps will move abreast of him
The sappers nearing to entrench themselves
Within the aforesaid farm.
[Enter an aide-de-camp.]
AIDE
From Marshal Ney,
Sire, I bring hasty word that all is poised
To strike the vital stroke, and only waits
Your Majesty’s command,
NAPOLÉON
Which he shall have
When I have scanned the hills for Grouchy’s helms.
[NAPOLÉON turns his glass to an upland four or five miles off on
the right, known as St. Lambert’s Chapel Hill. Gazing more and
more intently, he takes rapid pinches of snuff in excitement.
NEY’S columns meanwhile standing for the word to advance, eighty
guns being ranged in front of La Belle Alliance in support of them.]
I see a darkly crawling, slug-like shape
Embodying far out there,—troops seemingly—
Grouchy’s van-guard. What think you?
SOULT [also examining closely]
Verily troops;
And, maybe, Grouchy’s. But the air is hazed.
NAPOLÉON
If troops at all, they are Grouchy’s. Why misgive,
And force on ills you fear!
ANOTHER MARSHAL
It seems a wood.
Trees don bold outlines in their new-leafed pride.
ANOTHER MARSHAL
It is the creeping shadow from a cloud.
ANOTHER MARSHAL
It is a mass of stationary foot;
I can descry piled arms.
[NAPOLÉON sends off the order for NEY’S attack—the grand assault
on the English midst, including the farm of La Haye Sainte. It
opens with a half-hour’s thunderous discharge of artillery, which
ceases at length to let d’Erlon’s infantry pass.
Four huge columns of these, shouting defiantly, push forwards in
face of the reciprocal fire from the cannon of the English. Their
effrontery carries them so near the Anglo-Allied lines that the
latter waver. But PICTON brings up PACK’S brigade, before which
the French in turn recede, though they make an attempt in La Haye
Sainte, whence BARING’S Germans pour a resolute fire.
WELLINGTON, who is seen afar as one of a group standing by a
great elm, orders OMPTEDA to send assistance to BARING, as may
be gathered from the darting of aides to and fro between the
points, like house-flies dancing their quadrilles.
East of the great highway the right columns of D’ERLON’S corps
have climbed the slopes. BYLANDT’S sorely exposed Dutch are
broken, and in their flight disorder the ranks of the English
Twenty-eighth, the Carabineers of the Ninety-fifth being also
dislodged from the sand-pit they occupied.]
NAPOLÉON
All prospers marvellously! Gomont is hemmed;
La Haye Sainte too; their centre jeopardized;
Travers and d’Erlon dominate the crest,
And further strength of foot is following close.
Their troops are raw; the flower of England’s force
That fought in Spain, America now holds.—
[SIR TOMAS PICTON, seeing what is happening orders KEMPT’S
brigade forward. It volleys murderously DONZELOT’S columns
of D’ERLON’S corps, and repulses them. As they recede PICTON
is beheld shouting an order to charge.]