Prescience of a Disappearance

A narrative poem about the historical disappearance of Benjamin Bathurst, a British ambassador during the Napoleonic Wars.

There is prescience in a historical disappearance.

It fascinates people for all time, a strange and wild mystery.

Sometimes, history does not tell everything that it hides.

Some pieces of the puzzle are lost to time, leaving incomplete pictures,

Unresolved closure, a riddle without an answer,

Unsolved enigmas with nary an explanation.

Perhaps some mysteries are destined to be lost to history,

Uncharted territories never to be fully explored.

But some mysteries do not always stay hidden.

Sometimes, there are secrets buried under uncharted waters.

One disappearance has haunted me, like an encroaching shadow.

During the Napoleonic Wars, Europe was held in terror.

Countless fears, countless strife, under the French Empire’s looming shadow.

Many feared the rise of the French, and they shook in terror at the incoming threat.

In this time of chaos, was a British diplomat.

Benjamin Bathurst, a man of great intrigue.

He was a watchful guardian, watching over his terrified people.

In a time of strife, he was a torchbearer of diplomacy.

Napoleon raised hell across Europe, Benjamin helped fan the flames.

He lived inside a Prussian inn, where he stayed for a while.

In a distant town, far from the chaos across the continent.

He was a fair brunette man, a charismatic bridge builder.

He helped keep the alliances of Europe under a steady union.

His work was important, as he kept fiery thirsts for tension quenched.

It would be bad for such an important ambassador to disappear.

I lived next to him, while we rode out the war in Prussia.

I was a loyal attendant, a diplomat’s emissary.

I remembered hearing of Napoleon’s rampage with fearful anticipation.

A storm of conflict raged through Europe, with every nation swept up in it.

Many a man feared Napoleon’s fiery outrage, and the bonfire he struck.

I was not only an ambassador’s attendant, but his devoted friend.

I was devoted to a brave diplomat, to his quest to quench the flames of war.

We stayed at a Prussian inn, one night.

There was nary another enemy in sight.

Benjamin told me everything would be fine.

We were just going to take a short trip,

A warm hearth to settle in, a fire to keep us thawed.

There was nary a suspicious eye, nary any shadowing danger.

We did not notice any vile menace, nor any vicious predator.

The inn’s keeper was welcoming, a light in a continent’s darkness.

For a while, I was sure that we were safe, with no horrors coming from the night.

We slept side by side, and I acted like a close watchman.

If I knew my ward had disappeared, I would have made a raucous alarm.

But I never heard a sound when he was gone.

I woke up one day, and he was gone, vanished like smoke.

Nobody could find him, and neither could I.

It was as if he had suddenly fell from the earth, not a sound to be found.

No evidence, not even a sign of struggle.

He was there one moment, and then he vanished into the wind.

A ghostly apparition, leaving not a trace, a phantom inn tenant.

We looked everywhere, and he did not leave a trace.

No sudden footprints, no object out of place.

During the chaos of war, we had forgotten our global conductor.

Our conductor of harmony, of peace, gone during times of war.

The beast had been unleashed throughout Europe,

A key to our continent’s peace, forever disappeared.

Like a whisper in the wind, Benjamin was gone.

Benjamin vanished into nothingness, like a puzzle piece lost to time.

I raved about his kidnapping, as I knew Benjamin was stolen.

He was a valuable commodity, something many people would want.

But why? Why kidnap such a soul?

He was an important diplomat �" of course many a b*****d would come.

He was a valuable target, a grand prize, a conflict’s bargaining chip.

But many did not have proof, but it was a possibility.
It was a possibility that turned into suspicion, and suspected guilt.

Benjamin could not just have been kidnapped.

There was many a reason for such a man to disappear.

Perhaps many knew of his importance, his clear golden value.

Perhaps, he was a spy, an eye hiding behind dangerous events.

It would make sense, a global diplomat being a global mastermind.

I knew Benjamin for most of my life, but you cannot open a man’s mind.

You cannot peer into the deepest parts of a man’s psyche.

Benjamin was an ambassador between nations, building bridges in conflicts.

Benjamin could have been many things, given his diplomatic guise.

As the Napoleonic Wars rage on, no answers have answered this question.

Benjamin was just another casualty of war, a victim of national lies,

A chess piece in the espionage of governments,

A vital part of the web of manipulations.

I peer through a foggy mirror, trying to retrace my steps.

Trying to find out what happened to Benjamin.

But a foggy mirror shows only an opaque image.

The true picture may never come to life.

It has been years since his disappearance, but many will still search.

A diplomat leaves many ripples, even if he was a small stone.

His ripples may extend throughout history,

Many will still try to look through the foggy mirror,

To find a truth to his mysterious fate.

Perhaps in the future, many will still ponder the diplomat’s fate.

Perhaps the prescience of a disappearance has an immortal appeal.

Everyone loves a good mystery, a great puzzle to solve.

Many puzzle pieces go missing overtime, leaving open gaps.

Gaps that thirst for answers, that beg to be filled.

Benjamin was one of those gaps, one of those empty mysteries.

His disappearance was like the disappearance of many.

A man who simply fell from the earth, never to be seen again.

Maybe I wish I could finish that puzzle.

Even if I did not find him, at least a finality would be achieved.

An answer to the riddle of Benjamin’s vanishing.

But that may never come, after all.

Some mysterious disappearances are often left unsolved. 

Author's Note

This is one of the first poems I have written. This is one of the first narrative poems I have written as well. "Prescience of a Disappearance" is a free verse narrative poem that I wrote about an unsettling disappearance in history. I hope this poem will help spread to legend of the strange vanishing of Benjamin Banthurst. I hope to receive your feedback about my poem.