Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War

by Herbert Strang

  *CHAPTER III*

  *Palafox the Man, Palafox the Name*

  A Letter from Saragossa--An Invitation--Bad News--SpanishApathy--Bonaparte--Jockeying a Nation--A Message fromHead-quarters--More Puzzlement

  The visitor was awaiting Jack beneath a dim lamp in the vestibule.

  "You won't mind coming into my bedroom?" said Jack, after an interchangeof greetings. "It's the only place where we can be alone."

  He led the way, struck a light, and noticed that the stranger wasbespattered with mud from head to foot.

  "I'm scarcely fit to come into a house at all," said the latterapologetically; "but as things are, no doubt you'll excuse me. I hadbetter introduce myself. My name is Vaughan, and I am acting as privatesecretary to Mr. Stuart, our minister at Madrid. As I told you, I haveridden in with important despatches for Sir John Moore; I happened to bewith Castanos' army, and as I came through Saragossa on my way to MadridI was entrusted by General Palafox with a letter to you, which Ipromised to deliver to you in person if I should come across yourregiment. Here is the letter."

  He handed the paper to Jack, who looked at it in surprise.

  "General Palafox!" he said. "I don't know him. He is the Spanishgeneral who defended Saragossa recently, isn't he?"

  "Yes. I assure you it was he who gave me the letter."

  "Will you sit down while I look at it?"

  Jack hastily broke the seal.

  "I should add," said Vaughan, who had thrown himself wearily into achair, "that if I failed to find you, I was to carry the letter to yourfather in London, whither I am proceeding at once."

  Meanwhile, Jack had opened the letter, which was written in a crabbedand shaky handwriting. "My dear friend Jack," it began; and then Jackturned to the signature, and read "Fernan Alvarez". A light dawned uponhim; his look of bewilderment vanished, and he turned back to thebeginning with eager curiosity. The letter ran as follows:--

  MY DEAR FRIEND JACK,

  My brave friend Captain-General Palafox tells me that Mr. Carlos Vawn,who has of late arrived at this city, is on the point of leaving forMadrid, and will then, it is possible, return to England by way ofPortugal, in which case he will, without doubt, visit the camp of thegreat general, Sir Moore. By his courtesy I trust that this letter maycome to your hands all safe, and then I beg you will advise my agents inMadrid, Senores Caldos and Gonzalez, inasmuch as I may be quitealtogether beyond the touch of your reply. The last letter I receivedfrom my dear friend your father tells me that you sail instantly withSir Moore's army, and I already hear that your general landed soon afterthe blessed victory at Vimeiro.

  You will have heard of our glorious defence against the usurper. Weshall not grudge our sufferings if the example of Saragossa do giveheart to the other great cities of my poor country so distracted. Forshe will need indeed all her strength, all her courage, all her heroism,in the storm which is now to burst upon her. Alas! I can no longerhope to be of any service; my strength fails fast; I am old; I die. Formyself, I do not repine, but I am full of fear and trouble for thesafety of my poor Juanita, the little playmate whom I am sure you willnot have forgotten quite. I have done my all to provide for her, butwho can see through the clouds of war? We know not what may come in aday. And the danger is not to be feared only from the outside. In aletter to your father I have told him of what I have done. One thing isneeded to finish the things I tell him, and that is in the sixwords--mark you--Palafox the Man, Palafox the Name. I beg you committhese words to memory, and burn this letter the moment after you haveread it.

  I hope I may yet see you again before I die, but if it is not so be, Isay God bless you, and write myself for the last time

  Your old friend, FERNAN ALVAREZ.

  _P.S._--Remember always: Palafox the Man, Palafox the Name.

  "Palafox the man, Palafox the name!" said Jack half aloud. "What doeshe mean? Did General Palafox send a message with this, sir?"

  "No. I understood that the writer was a friend of his and yours."

  "He is a friend of mine. He is my father's partner. But I don'tunderstand the letter. It appears to hint at something which he doesnot care to express clearly. And he speaks of a letter to my father.Have you that too?"

  "No; I know nothing about that."

  "Then it is probably with Don Fernan's agents in Madrid. But I amforgetting to thank you. Really, sir, it was very good of you toundertake this private errand when you must have been engrossed inpublic affairs. We were just going to have supper; will you honour us byjoining our mess?"

  "I am very tired, and not at all in company trim; in fact, I had justdeclined a similar invitation from Sir John; but--"

  "You will, then? I am very glad. We will not keep you late."

  "I must first go and give a coin to the boy who showed me the wayhere--a little gipsy fellow who said he knew you."

  "Pepito! Let me deal with him, Mr. Vaughan; he has an extraordinaryknack of turning up just when he can make himself useful. You'll find atowel there; I'll go and settle with Pepito, and you will follow me,won't you? Our fellows will be delighted to meet you."

  And Jack left his visitor to his ablutions.

  There was much curiosity among the subalterns as to the identity ofJack's visitor and the subject of their private interview; but Jackvolunteered no information, merely telling them, as he passed throughthe room on his way to find Pepito, that Mr. Vaughan would join them atsupper.

  "So you boys will have to mind your p's and q's," said Captain O'Hare."No antics now. Some of these politicals are very starchy."

  Consequently it was a quiet group to whom, in a few minutes, Mr. Vaughanwas introduced. They were all hungry, and Jack apologized for theplainness of the fare.

  "You see, sir," he said, "Sataro, our Portuguese contractor, has failed,and we all have to get what food we can."

  "You won't find me fastidious," replied Vaughan. "I could almost eat myboots, I think."

  "Mr. Vaughan has just ridden five hundred miles on end," explained Jack.

  "By George!" exclaimed Dugdale.

  "Five hundred, bedad!" said Captain O'Hare. "If they were like themiles round Salamanca, sure you must have come through a power of mud!"

  "How long did it take you, sir?" asked Shirley.

  "Six days."

  There was a cry of astonishment.

  "Gad, that beats Bagster of Trinity!" said Dugdale. "Backed himself toride sixty miles and eat sixty oysters in a hundred and sixty minutes;lost by six oysters, and always vowed he could ha' done that if thevinegar hadn't run short!"

  There was a general laugh.

  "I could have done with the oysters--even the six," said Vaughan, whowas tickled by Dugdale's whole-hearted enjoyment of his recollection.

  "And why did you pelt along so terrible hard, may I ask, Mr. Vaughan?"said the captain.

  "It'll be common property to-morrow, so I may as well tell you. I havebeen for some time with the staff of General Palafox in Aragon. Sixdays ago General Castanos was totally defeated at Tudela."

  "Good heavens!" cried Pomeroy; "another defeat! It was quite time weturned up to help the Dons."

  "What a cowardly crew!" added Smith. "They run at the sound of theirown guns. Bang! whizz! and Vamos, they cry, which Lumsden will tell youmeans: 'Let us skedaddle'."

  "We mustn't be too hard on them," said Mr. Vaughan quietly. "They usedto fight well, by all accounts. There were good men in Alva's time--notto go back any further. All they want is proper leading. Their generalshappen to be no match for the French marshals, and unlucky to boot. Alittle British discipline would work wonders. Well, as I happened to bewith the Spanish army, I rode off to Madrid at once with the news, andour minister there sent me off with despatches to Sir John."

  "Lucky you were on the spot, sir," said Smith, "or we might have waitedtill doomsday. The villainous way we are served with intelligence isthe common talk of the army."

 
"I judged as much. The fact is, the Spaniards think they can do thewhole thing unaided; you gentlemen are mere interlopers. They'd like tohave the French all to themselves."

  "Well, they've had a lesson at Tudela," said Pomeroy. "Who had thepresumption to beat them there? Was it Marshal Ney?"

  "No, a Marshal Lannes. It's rather curious how he managed to take thecommand, seeing that as he rode across the mountains a fortnight ago hishorse fell with him over a precipice, and every bone in his bodyappeared to be broken. But a clever surgeon named Larrey mended him insome ten days--how do you think? He stitched him up in the skin of anewly-flayed sheep!"

  "A wolf," said Shirley, "a wolf in sheep's clothing; and the Britishdogs of war'll soon be at him."

  "How does this defeat affect us, sir?" asked Jack.

  "That depends on how the French follow it up. Bonaparte may--"

  "Oh, I say, sir," cried Dugdale excitedly, "is old Boney himself inSpain?"

  "Didn't you know? He crossed the border three weeks ago. He may swoopdown on Madrid, for, except Heredia and San Juan, there seems to benobody to bar his way."

  "Bedad, sir, but there's a certain General Sir John Moore, to saynothing of the 95th," said Captain O'Hare with a laugh; "though, to besure, 'twas Soult we were to tackle first."

  "Won't this defeat bring the French on our flank?" asked Smith, alreadyshowing the strategical perception that distinguished the victor ofAliwal.

  "It certainly seems likely. I found Sir John terribly distressed at hisimperfect knowledge of the French position, and at the sluggishness ofthe Spaniards. The proud Dons seem to have no plans, and to beperfectly content to drift along. But that won't do against soldierslike Bonaparte and his marshals."

  "Do you know how many the French number, all told?" asked Jack.

  "I don't, and I'm sure no Spaniard does. I heard 80,000 given as oneestimate, but I shall be much surprised if the total is not much largerthan that."

  "Whew!" exclaimed Dugdale. "And we've only a few thousand here at anyrate. What's the odds! an Englishman was always worth ten Frenchmen,and I don't care if Boney comes with a million."

  "I admire your confidence and spirit, Mr. Dugdale," said Vaughan dryly.

  "Though I'm hanged if I know what we're fighting Boney in Spain for,"added Dugdale. "Not that that matters."

  "Indeed, but it matters a terrible deal," said Captain O'Hare earnestly."We've crossed the mighty ocean--and mighty unpleasant it was,bedad!--to help a disthressed and downtrodden people; and sure 'tis weIrishmen can feel for the like o' them."

  Dugdale, feeling out of his depth, was silent for a time while theconversation took a more serious tone, and turned on the chain of eventswhich had led to the presence of the British army in Spain.

  It was fifteen years since a little Corsican officer of artillery, namedNapoleon Bonaparte, had first drawn attention to himself by his cleverwork at the siege of Toulon. In that time he had made himself Emperorof the French and dictator of Europe, and become one of the greatestfigures in universal history. His ambition was insatiable and hithertohis success had been stupendous. Within a few years he had subduedAustria, humbled Prussia, hoaxed Russia, and plundered Italy. Alone ofthe nations, England had checked his series of triumphs by her victoriesat the Nile and Trafalgar; but even in England his name was held by themore timorous in awe, and caricatures represented him as a voraciousogre who made his meals of little children. He longed to have Englandalso at his feet--a longing only intensified by the success with whichshe had hitherto defied his efforts cripple her trade.

  Before he could subdue England, however, Bonaparte saw the necessity ofadding Spain and Portugal to his tale of victims. Portugal was ourally, and he gave her the choice between breaking with us and fightingFrance. She held to her alliance, and was promptly overrun with Frenchtroops. Having crippled Portugal, he turned his attention to Spain. Inthat country the old King Charles had allowed the government to fallinto the hands of his unscrupulous minister Godoy, who was universallydetested. The greater part of the nation wished the king to abdicate infavour of his son Ferdinand, with whom he was constantly quarrelling.Taking advantage of these dissensions, Napoleon sent a French force toMadrid, with the intention, as the Spaniards believed, of supportingFerdinand. But both Charles and Ferdinand were summoned to meetNapoleon at Bayonne; there they were in turn tricked into resigning thesovereignty, which the emperor at once bestowed on his brother Joseph.This was the signal for a great national rising, the first whichNapoleon had yet encountered. The Spaniards were proud, high-spirited,and independent, and refused tamely to submit to this arbitraryinterference with their affairs. In all parts of the country theyproclaimed Ferdinand king, and when Napoleon poured his troops in anendless stream across the Pyrenees, their eyes turned to England astheir only stand-by, and to England they sent for help. A British armyunder Sir Arthur Wellesley landed in Portugal, and defeated MarshalJunot at the battle of Vimeiro; but, ere the victory could be completedand followed up, the chief command was assumed in succession by SirHarry Burrard and Sir Hew Dalrymple, who came out within a few days ofone another. To Wellesley's disgust, they allowed the French, by theConvention of Cintra, to withdraw from Portugal with the honours of war.But their action aroused intense indignation at home; they wererecalled, with Wellesley, to appear before a court of enquiry, and SirJohn Moore was unexpectedly placed in command.

  Meanwhile the French forces in the Peninsula had been continuallyincreasing; the regular armies of Spain had been beaten on all sides;and instead of meeting, as he had expected, large forces, well equippedat English expense, ready to co-operate with him, Sir John found that hehad to defend the Portuguese frontier and undertake offensive operationsalmost single-handed against a victorious enemy many times outnumberinghis own army. Immense sums of money and stores of all kinds had beengiven to Spain by the British Government, but owing to the corruption ofthe Spanish officials, and the want of any real governing authority, thegift was virtually wasted. The Juntas, or committees, which hadundertaken the government of the various provinces, were all acting, orrather talking of acting, independently, and were strangely blind totheir deadly peril. They appeared to regard England as an unfailingsource of money and arms, and in some cases actually resented thearrival of British troops, in a sort of blind confidence that they wereable unaided to withstand the invader.

  Mr. Vaughan had seen something of this during his stay with GeneralCastanos, and his account of what had come under his own eyes kept hishosts interested to a late hour. At length he rose.

  "I am very tired," he said, "and as I expect to have to ride againto-morrow, I know you gentlemen will excuse me for leaving you. Manythanks for your hospitality, and may we meet again!"

  "I will see you to your quarters," said Jack. "Where are you staying?"

  "At an inn in the Plaza Santo Tome. I shall be glad of your company, ifthe hour is not too late."

  When Jack returned, half an hour afterwards, his man Giles handed him anote which had been left at the house by an orderly during his absence.

  "The commander-in-chief", it ran, "presents his compliments to Mr.Lumsden, and will be glad to see him at his quarters at nine o'clockto-morrow morning."

  "Another letter," said Jack to himself; "and almost as mysterious as thefirst. I wonder what it can mean!"

  He read the note again, but finding himself unable to make any inferencefrom the few simple words, he wisely resolved to allow the morning tobring its own solution. In the few moments that elapsed between hislaying his head on the pillow and falling asleep, his mind see-sawedbetween the two letters. Now it was Sir John Moore's that wasuppermost, now Don Fernan's; breaking the darkness of his room he seemedto see the phrases, one above the other, in letters of fire: "At nineo'clock to-morrow morning"--"Palafox the Man, Palafox the Name".