THE OPEN SEA BETWEEN THE ENGLISH COASTS AND THE SPANISH PENINSULA [From high aloft, in the same July weather, and facing east, the vision swoops over the ocean and its coast-lines, from Cork Harbour on the extreme left, to Mondego Bay, Portugal, on the extreme right. Land’s End and the Scilly Isles, Ushant and Cape Finisterre, are projecting features along the middle distance of the picture, and the English Channel recedes endwise as a tapering avenue near the centre.]

DUMB SHOW Four groups of moth-like transport ships are discovered silently skimming this wide liquid plain. The first group, to the right, is just vanishing behind Cape Mondego to enter Mondego Bay; the second, in the midst, has come out from Plymouth Sound, and is preparing to stand down Channel; the third is clearing St. Helen’s point for the same course; and the fourth, much further up Channel, is obviously to follow on considerably in the rear of the two preceding. A south-east wind is blowing strong, and, according to the part of their course reached, they either sail direct with the wind on their larboard quarter, or labour forward by tacking in zigzags.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES What are these fleets that cross the sea From British ports and bays To coasts that glister southwardly Behind the dog-day haze?

RUMOURS [chanting] SEMICHORUS I

They are the shipped battalions sent To bar the bold Belligerent Who stalks the Dancers’ Land. Within these hulls, like sheep a-pen, Are packed in thousands fighting-men And colonels in command.

SEMICHORUS II The fleet that leans each aery fin Far south, where Mondego mouths in, Bears Wellesley and his aides therein, And Hill, and Crauford too; With Torrens, Ferguson, and Fane, And majors, captains, clerks, in train, And those grim needs that appertain— The surgeons—not a few! To them add twelve thousand souls In linesmen that the list enrolls, Borne onward by those sheeted poles As war’s red retinue!

SEMICHORUS I The fleet that clears St. Helen’s shore Holds Burrard, Hope, ill-omened Moore, Clinton and Paget; while The transports that pertain to those Count six-score sail, whose planks enclose Ten thousand rank and file.

SEMICHORUS II The third-sent ships, from Plymouth Sound, With Acland, Anstruther, impound Souls to six thousand strong. While those, the fourth fleet, that we see Far back, are lined with cavalry, And guns of girth, wheeled heavily To roll the routes along.

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS Enough, and more, of inventories and names! Many will fail; many earn doubtful fames. Await the fruitage of their acts and aims.

DUMB SHOW [continuing] In the spacious scene visible the far-separated groups of transports, convoyed by battleships, float on before the wind almost imperceptibly, like preened duck-feathers across a pond. The southernmost expedition, under SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY, soon comes to anchor within the Bay of Mondego aforesaid, and the soldiery are indefinitely discernible landing upon the beach from boats. Simultaneously the division commanded by MOORE, as yet in the Chops of the channel, is seen to be beaten back by contrary winds. It gallantly puts to sea again, and being joined by the division under ANSTRUTHER that has set out from Plymouth, labours round Ushant, and stands to the south in the track of WELLESLEY. The rearward transports do the same. A moving stratum of summer cloud beneath the point of view covers up the spectacle like an awning.