THE FIELD OF AUSTERLITZ. THE FRENCH POSITION
[The night is the 1st of December following, and the eve of the
battle. The view is from the elevated position of the Emperor’s
bivouac. The air cuts keen and the sky glistens with stars, but
the lower levels are covered with a white fog stretching like a
sea, from which the heights protrude as dusky rocks.
To the left are discernible high and wooded hills. In the front
mid-distance the plateau of Pratzen outstands, declining suddenly
on the right to a low flat country covered with marshes and pools
now mostly obscured. On the plateau itself are seen innumerable
and varying lights, marking the bivouac of the centre divisions
of the Austro-Russian army. Close to the foreground the fires of
the French are burning, surrounded by soldiery. The invisible
presence of the countless thousand of massed humanity that compose
the two armies makes itself felt indefinably.
The tent of NAPOLÉON rises nearest at hand, with sentinel and
other military figures looming around, and saddled horses held
by attendants. The accents of the Emperor are audible, through
the canvas from inside, dictating a proclamation.]
VOICE OF NAPOLÉON
“Soldiers, the hordes of Muscovy now face you,
To mend the Austrian overthrow at Ulm!
But how so? Are not these the self-same bands
You met and swept aside at Hollabrunn,
And whose retreating forms, dismayed to flight,
Your feet pursued along the trackways here?
“Our own position, massed and menacing,
Is rich in chance for opportune attack;
For, say they march to cross and turn our right—
A course almost at their need—their stretching flank
Will offer us, from points now prearranged—-”
VOICE OF A MARSHAL
Shows it, your Majesty, the wariness
That marks your usual far-eye policy,
To openly announce your tactics thus
Some twelve hours ere their form can actualize?
THE VOICE OF NAPOLÉON
The zest such knowledge will impart to all
Is worth the risk of leakages. [To Secretary]
Write on.
[Dictation resumed]
“Soldiers, your sections I myself shall lead;
But ease your minds who would expostulate
Against my undue rashness. If your zeal
Sow hot confusion in the hostile files
As your old manner is, and in our rush
We mingle with our foes, I’ll use fit care.
Nevertheless, should issues stand at pause
But for a wink-while, that time you will eye
Your Emperor the foremost in the shock,
Taking his risk with every ranksman here.
For victory, men, must be no thing surmised,
As that which may or may not beam on us,
Like noontide sunshine on a dubious morn;
It must be sure!—The honour and the fame
Of France’s gay and gallant infantry—
So dear, so cherished all the Empire through—
Binds us to compass it!
Maintain the ranks;
Let none be thinned by impulse or excuse
Of bearing back the wounded: and, in fine,
Be every one in this conviction firm:—
That ’tis our sacred bond to overthrow
These hirelings of a country not their own:
Yea, England’s hirelings, they!—a realm stiff-steeled
In deathless hatred of our land and lives.
“The campaign closes with this victory;
And we return to find our standards joined
By vast young armies forming now in France.
Forthwith resistless, Peace establish we,
Worthy of you, the nation, and of me!”
“NAPOLÉON.”
[To his Marshals]
So shall we prostrate these paid slaves of hers—
England’s, I mean—the root of all the war.
VOICE OF MURAT
The further details sent of Trafalgar
Are not assuring.
VOICE OF LANNES
What may the details be?
VOICE OF NAPOLÉON [moodily]
We learn that six-and-twenty ships of war,
During the fight and after, struck their flags,
And that the tigerish gale throughout the night
Gave fearful finish to the English rage.
By luck their Nelson’s gone, but gone withal
Are twenty thousand prisoners, taken off
To gnaw their finger-nails in British hulks.
Of our vast squadrons of the summer-time
But rags and splintered remnants now remain.—
Thuswise Villeneuve, poor craven, quitted him!
And England puffed to yet more bombastry.
—Well, well; I can’t be everywhere. No matter;
A victory’s brewing here as counterpoise!
These water-rats may paddle in their salt slush,
And welcome. ’Tis not long they’ll have the lead.
Ships can be wrecked by land!
ANOTHER VOICE
And how by land,
Your Majesty, if one may query such?
VOICE OF NAPOLÉON [sardonically]
I’ll bid all states of Europe shut their ports
To England’s arrogant bottoms, slowly starve
Her bloated revenues and monstrous trade,
Till all her hulls lie sodden in their docks,
And her grey island eyes in vain shall seek
One jack of hers upon the ocean plains!
VOICE OF SOULT
A few more master-strokes, your Majesty,
Must be dealt hereabout to compass such!