The Peasent's Confession

"Si le maréchal Grouchy avait été rejoint par l'officier que
  Napoléon lui avait expédié la veille à dix heures du soir, toute
  question eût disparu. Mais cet officier n'était point parvenu à sa
  destination, ainsi que le maréchal n'a cessé de l'affirmer toute sa
  vie, et il faut l'en croire, car autrement il n'aurait eu aucune
  raison pour hésiter. Cet officier avait-il été pris? avait-il passé à
  l'ennemi? C'est ce qu'on a toujours ignoré."
  --Thiers: Histoire de l'Empire. "Waterloo."

  GOOD Father!... 'Twas an eve in middle June,
  And war was waged anew
  By great Napoleon, who for years had strewn
  Men's bones all Europe through.

  Three nights ere this, with columned corps he'd crossed
  The Sambre at Charleroi,
  To move on Brussels, where the English host
  Dallied in Parc and Bois.

  The yestertide we'd heard the gloomy gun
  Growl through the long-sunned day
  From Quatre-Bras and Ligny; till the dun
  Twilight suppressed the fray;

  Albeit therein--as lated tongues bespoke--
  Brunswick's high heart was drained,
  And Prussia's Line and Landwehr, though unbroke,
  Stood cornered and constrained.

  And at next noon-time Grouchy slowly passed
  With thirty thousand men:
  We hoped thenceforth no army, small or vast,
  Would trouble us again.

  My hut lay deeply in a vale recessed,
  And never a soul seemed nigh
  When, reassured at length, we went to rest--
  My children, wife, and I.

  But what was this that broke our humble ease?
  What noise, above the rain,
  Above the dripping of the poplar trees
  That smote along the pane?

  --A call of mastery, bidding me arise,
  Compelled me to the door,
  At which a horseman stood in martial guise--
  Splashed--sweating from every pore.

  Had I seen Grouchy? Yes? Which track took he?
  Could I lead thither on?--
  Fulfilment would ensure gold pieces three,
  Perchance more gifts anon.

  "I bear the Emperor's mandate," then he said,
  "Charging the Marshal straight
  To strike between the double host ahead
  Ere they co-operate,

  "Engaging Blücher till the Emperor put
  Lord Wellington to flight,
  And next the Prussians. This to set afoot
  Is my emprise to-night."

  I joined him in the mist; but, pausing, sought
  To estimate his say,
  Grouchy had made for Wavre; and yet, on thought,
  I did not lead that way.

  I mused: "If Grouchy thus instructed be,
  The clash comes sheer hereon;
  My farm is stript. While, as for pieces three,
  Money the French have none.

  "Grouchy unwarned, moreo'er, the English win,
  And mine is left to me--
  They buy, not borrow."--Hence did I begin
  To lead him treacherously.

  By Joidoigne, near to east, as we ondrew,
  Dawn pierced the humid air;
  And eastward faced I with him, though I knew
  Never marched Grouchy there.

  Near Ottignies we passed, across the Dyle
  (Lim'lette left far aside),
  And thence direct toward Pervez and Noville
  Through green grain, till he cried:

  "I doubt thy conduct, man! no track is here
  I doubt they gagèd word!"
  Thereat he scowled on me, and pranced me near,
  And pricked me with his sword.

  "Nay, Captain, hold! We skirt, not trace the course
  Of Grouchy," said I then:
  "As we go, yonder went he, with his force
  Of thirty thousand men."

  --At length noon nighed, when west, from Saint-John's-Mound,
  A hoarse artillery boomed,
  And from Saint-Lambert's upland, chapel-crowned,
  The Prussian squadrons loomed.

  Then to the wayless wet gray ground he leapt;
  "My mission fails!" he cried;
  "Too late for Grouchy now to intercept,
  For, peasant, you have lied!"

  He turned to pistol me. I sprang, and drew
  The sabre from his flank,
  And 'twixt his nape and shoulder, ere he knew,
  I struck, and dead he sank.

  I hid him deep in nodding rye and oat--
  His shroud green stalks and loam;
  His requiem the corn-blade's husky note--
  And then I hastened home....

  --Two armies writh
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Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy, was a Scottish Minister, Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland and Professor of Eccesiastical History at Edinburgh University. more…

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"The Peasent's Confession" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 20 Sep. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/36540/the-peasent's-confession>.

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