SCENE I THE PLAIN OF VITORIA [It is the eve of the longest day of the year; also the eve of the battle of Vitoria. The English army in the Peninsula, and their Spanish and Portuguese allies, are bivouacking on the western side of the Plain, about six miles from the town. On some high ground in the left mid-distance may be discerned the MARQUIS OF WELLINGTON'S tent, with GENERALS HILL, PICTON, PONSONBY, GRAHAM, and others of his staff, going in and out in consultation on the momentous event impending. Near the foreground are some hussars sitting round a fire, the evening being damp; their horses are picketed behind. In the immediate front of the scene are some troop-officers talking.] FIRST OFFICER This grateful rest of four-and-twenty hours Is priceless for our jaded soldiery; And we have reconnoitred largely, too; So the slow day will not have slipped in vain. SECOND OFFICER [looking towards the headquarter tent] By this time they must nearly have dotted down The methods of our master-stroke to-morrow: I have no clear conception of its plan, Even in its leading lines. What is decided? FIRST OFFICER There are outshaping three supreme attacks, As I decipher. Graham's on the left, To compass which he crosses the Zadorra, And turns the enemy's right. On our right, Hill Will start at once to storm the Puebla crests. The Chief himself, with us here in the centre, Will lead on by the bridges Tres-Puentes Over the ridge there, and the Mendoza bridge A little further up.—That's roughly it; But much and wide discretionary power Is left the generals all. [The officers walk away, and the stillness increases, so the conversation at the hussars' bivouac, a few yards further back, becomes noticeable.] SERGEANT YOUNG19 I wonder, I wonder how Stourcastle is looking this summer night, and all the old folks there! SECOND HUSSAR You was born there, I think I've heard ye say, Sergeant? SERGEANT YOUNG I was. And though I ought not to say it, as father and mother are living there still, 'tis a dull place at times. Now Budmouth-Regis was exactly to my taste when we were there with the Court that summer, and the King and Queen a-wambling about among us like the most everyday old man and woman you ever see. Yes, there was plenty going on, and only a pretty step from home. Altogether we had a fine time! THIRD HUSSAR You walked with a girl there for some weeks, Sergeant, if my memory serves? SERGEANT YOUNG I did. And a pretty girl 'a was. But nothing came on't. A month afore we struck camp she married a tallow-chandler's dipper of Little Nicholas Lane. I was a good deal upset about it at the time. But one gets over things! SECOND HUSSAR 'Twas a low taste in the hussy, come to that.—Howsomever, I agree about Budmouth. I never had pleasanter times than when we lay there. You had a song on it, Sergeant, in them days, if I don't mistake? SERGEANT YOUNG I had; and have still. 'Twas made up when we left by our bandmaster that used to conduct in front of Gloucester Lodge at the King's Mess every afternoon. [The Sergeant is silent for a minute, then suddenly bursts into melody.] SONG “BUDMOUTH DEARS” I When we lay where Budmouth Beach is, O, the girls were fresh as peaches, With their tall and tossing figures and their eyes of blue and brown! And our hearts would ache with longing As we paced from our sing-songing, With a smart CLINK! CLINK! up the Esplanade and down II They distracted and delayed us By the pleasant pranks they played us, And what marvel, then, if troopers, even of regiments of renown, On whom flashed those eyes divine, O, Should forget the countersign, O, As we tore CLINK! CLINK! back to camp above the town. III Do they miss us much, I wonder, Now that war has swept us sunder, And we roam from where the faces smile to where the faces frown? And no more behold the features Of the fair fantastic creatures, And no more CLINK! CLINK! past the parlours of the town? IV Shall we once again there meet them? Falter fond attempts to greet them? Will the gay sling-jacket20 glow again beside the muslin gown?— Will they archly quiz and con us With a sideways glance upon us, While our spurs CLINK! CLINK! up the Esplanade and down? [Applause from the other hussars. More songs are sung, the night gets darker, the fires go out, and the camp sleeps.] SCENE II THE SAME, FROM THE PUEBLA HEIGHTS [It is now day; but a summer fog pervades the prospect. Behind the fog is heard the roll of bass and tenor drums and the clash of cymbals, with notes of the popular march “The Downfall of Paris.” By degrees the fog lifts, and the Plain is disclosed. From this elevation, gazing north, the expanse looks like the palm of a monstrous right hand, a little hollowed, some half-dozen miles across, wherein the ball of the thumb is roughly represented by heights to the east, on which the French centre has gathered; the “Mount of Mars” and the “Moon” [the opposite side of the palm] by the position of the English on the left or west of the plain; and the “Line of Life” by the Zadorra, an unfordable river running from the town down the plain, and dropping out of it through a pass in the Puebla Heights to the south, just beneath our point of observation—that is to say, toward the wrist of the supposed hand. The left of the English army under GRAHAM would occupy the “mounts” at the base of the fingers; while the bent finger-tips might represent the Cantabrian Hills beyond the plain to the north or back of the scene. From the aforesaid stony crests of Puebla the white town and church towers of Vitoria can be descried on a slope to the right- rear of the field of battle. A warm rain succeeds the fog for a short while, bringing up the fragrant scents from fields, vineyards, and gardens, now in the full leafage of June.] DUMB SHOW All the English forces converge forward—that is, eastwardly—the centre over the ridges, the right through the Pass to the south, the left down the Bilbao road on the north-west, the bands of the divers regiments striking up the same quick march, “The Downfall of Paris.” SPIRIT OF THE YEARS You see the scene. And yet you see it not. What do you notice now? There immediately is shown visually the electric state of mind that animates WELLINGTON, GRAHAM, HILL, KEMPT, PICTON, COLVILLE, and other responsible ones on the British side; and on the French KING JOSEPH stationary on the hill overlooking his own centre, and surrounded by a numerous staff that includes his adviser MARSHAL JOURDAN, with, far away in the field, GAZAN, D'ERLON, REILLE, and other marshals. This vision, resembling as a whole the interior of a beating brain lit by phosphorescence, in an instant fades back to normal. Anon we see the English hussars with their flying |