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

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Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 24

by Herbert Strang


  *CHAPTER XXI*

  *Night on the Ramparts*

  The Cafe Arcos--The Story of the Siege--Perfervour--An Oath--The CasaAlvarez--The Missing Sentry--Through the Lines--Miguel EntersSaragossa--Don Casimir is Astonished--Moonshine

  On arriving with Tio Jorge at the Aljafferia Castle, Jack found thatPalafox had already received from Santiago Sass news of the excellentwork done in the south-eastern quarter of the city. But Tio Jorgeinsisted on telling the story again, and dwelt with enthusiasm on thepart the English Senor had played--his idea to scale the roofs, and hisintrepidity in fighting by the barricades. The big Spaniard loved ahard fighter, and Jack could have found no surer way to his confidenceand respect.

  "Excellent! excellent!" cried Palafox; "you came to us most opportunely,Senor. And let me tell you, the good opinion of our brave Tio Jorge isitself the highest praise. Would to God that our success had been ascertain at other points! Unhappily, the French have exploded mines inthe neighbourhood of Santa Engracia, and the most heroic efforts of ourmen have failed to dislodge them from the ground they have gained.Unhappily, also, Don Hernando de Solas, my valiant lieutenant there, wasshot as he led his men for the tenth time to the assault, and I have noone whom I can conveniently send to take his place."

  "Send the English Senor," cried Tio Jorge instantly. "He has shown whathe can do; he is an officer who has served with the great Sir Moore; heis the very man for the post."

  Palafox looked for a moment doubtfully at Jack's youthful face.

  "You are young yourself, Don Jose," added Tio Jorge, divining hisgeneral's reluctance. "Por Dios! was there ever before acaptain-general so young!"

  "It is an arduous post," said Palafox. "Just now it has to bear thebrunt of the French attack, I fear. But you have shown valour andresource, Senor Lumsden; will you undertake the command of DonHernando's district?"

  "I will do my best, Senor, if you entrust it to me."

  He spoke quietly, but his pulse leapt at the thought of the work openingbefore him. Accepting the general's offer with alacrity, he set off ina few minutes with Tio Jorge, who had offered to introduce him to hismen, and procure for him a Spanish uniform to replace his soiledgarments. As they were hastening along the Coso, crowded with peoplenow that the day's fighting had ceased, Tio Jorge stopped at the door ofa big cafe.

  "You must be famished, Senor," he said. "You have had nothing but abite and a sup all day. Here is the cafe of my friend Jorge Arcos; letus enter. When we have eaten and drunk it will be time to seek theramparts."

  Jack was nothing loth. In a few minutes he was seated amid a crowd ofardent Saragossans, whose blackened features and soiled garments bespokethe part they had played in the defence of their city. Jorge Arcoshimself, a robust and lusty Spaniard, attended to Jack's wants when hehad learnt from Tio Jorge that the young Senor was an English officerwho had done good work that day, and been entrusted by Palafox with theSanta Engracia command. The big host, as well as the miscellaneouscompany in the room, looked somewhat askance at the weird figure ofPepito, who had closely followed his master. His garb showed him to beone of the despised and outcast gitanos; but on Jack's explaining thatthe boy had been of service to him, Arcos shrugged, and brought him somefood and diluted wine, which the hungry little fellow despatched withgusto.

  As he ate, Jack fell into conversation with his host, and showed acuriosity to learn something of the earlier history of the siege. Themere suggestion was enough to set the man's tongue wagging. Heevidently loved the sound of his own voice, and he owed indeed much ofhis popularity with the citizens to his rough-and-ready eloquence.

  "A remarkable siege, you say, Senor?" he said. "It is, in truth; neverwas such a siege since the world began! And 'tis not the first time theFrench pack of wolves has come to eat us. Last year, by the favour ofOur Lady of the Pillar, we escaped their greedy jaws; and now also againthey shall rue the day they came a-hunting. For six weeks we havewithstood them; 'tis six weeks since they began to throw their bombs andballs into our midst. Aha! and on the second day after, they sent a manto summon us to surrender. Surrender! Little they knew Don JosePalafox, little they knew the hearts of our people--of Tio Jorge here,and Tio Marin, of the padres Don Basilio and Santiago Sass andConsolacion; aye, and of our noble ladies and of our poor folks such asI myself. Surrender! Why, our people well-nigh tore the Frenchmessenger in pieces! We knew they were coming to invest us; did theythink we should open our gates or that our walls would fall flat as thewalls of Jericho? Por Dios!"

  He uttered a scornful guffaw, and shouts of approval broke from thecrowd.

  "No, no. We had warning; the people from the countryside came flockingin--workers in olive groves and vineyards, potters from the villages,swineherds and muleteers--and Don Jose gave them each his task, and withour own people they toiled night and day to make our city strong. Menand women and children, sixty thousand of us, we wrought upon theramparts. Some carried earth in baskets, others plied the spade, otherswent into the outskirts with picks and axes, and levelled houses andorchards until, for half a mile round, the country was as bare as mytable here, a level waste on which no enemy could find a wall or tree toshelter him. Thus we strengthened our defences, building bastions andraising mounds, till the whole city was encircled with strong rampartsfrom the Ebro to the Huerba.

  "And all this time our people were gathering food--great stores of cornand maize, oil and fish; and some were making powder and bullets, andothers were building barriers across the streets with timber andsand-bags, so that if the accursed French did break through our walls wecould still fight from street to street, as you have seen to-day,Senor."

  "Yes, but they are gaining ground; how can we hold out longer, JorgeArcos?" said a voice in the crowd.

  Arcos glared around and smote upon the table.

  "Where is that coward?" he cried passionately. "Where is he? For whomdoes the gibbet stand in the Coso? Is it not there for cowards, andweaklings, and traitors, and all who talk of surrender? Hold outlonger! We have only begun. The French have got in here andthere--well, what of that? Every house captured costs them a day; andevery day brings our triumph nearer. Have we not ample food? Is there awretch in Saragossa who complains of hunger? Set him before me; let mesee his face; he shall prove his words here in my presence, or--" Hemade a significant gesture, and continued: "No, we are not hungry; wecan hold out for months; and meanwhile friends are hastening to oursuccour. North and south, east and west, armies are collecting. TheFrench shall be hemmed round like pigs for the butcher; the Februaryrains shall descend and flood their trenches; and by the grace of OurLady of the Pillar we shall be able once again to foil the plans of theCorsican dog, and the men of Aragon will set such an example to the menof Andalusia and Castile, of Leon and Estremadura, of Catalonia andNavarre, that no Frenchman shall be left alive between the mountains andthe sea."

  Loud vivas rang through the room as Arcos brought his oration to aclose. It was no surprise to Jack to hear such a speech from the lipsof an ordinary cafe-keeper--every Spaniard is an orator,--but he by nomeans shared the speaker's assurance. The influx of so many people fromthe country must have swelled the population far beyond its normallimit. Overcrowding involved disease; the encroachments of the Frenchmust constantly narrow the habitable region; in the exposed parts onlythe vaults and cellars would be safe from bombardment; and while theoperations of war claimed their full tale of victims, Jack feared thatpestilence would carry off still more. But he said not a word of hisapprehensions, and soon afterwards, bidding his host and the company acordial adieu, he left with Tio Jorge and Pepito.

  They passed the Franciscan convent beyond the Coso, cut through narrowtortuous side streets, each barricaded and guarded, passed the Capuchinnunnery, and came at length to the district of Santa Engracia, in whicha few days before the French had gained a lodgment by sapping and miningand direct assault. As they passed along a street from which the Frenchh
ad been driven at the point of the bayonet, but which was now a mereheap of charred and smoking ruins, Jack saw a young lady standing beforethe smouldering embers of one of the houses. By her side was a littleboy. The lady, who could not have been more than twenty-five years ofage, was pale and haggard, and gazed upon the ruins of her home like avery statue of sorrow. As Tio Jorge and Jack came up to her, they heardher talking to the boy in low fierce tones.

  "It is the Dona Mercedes Ortega," said Tio Jorge half to himself. "Whatis the matter, Senora?" he asked.

  She turned and threw back her mantilla. Jack had never seen a face inwhich utter woe and desolation was so piteously imprinted. Her eyelidswere swollen with weeping; her eyes blazed out of dark sunken rims; herlips were quivering.

  "That was my home," she said in an agony of grief that Jack neverforgot. "My husband lies there, and my father. My brothers died on theramparts; my little girl died of fever in my arms. Only Juanino isleft, only Juanino, he and I; we are alone--alone--alone!"

  Jack turned away; there was a mist before his eyes. Then suddenly thewoman's tone changed from grief to rage. Her next words seemed to biteinto Jack's soul.

  "Stay, Senor!" she cried; "stay, Tio Jorge! I call you to witness whatI teach my Juanino. Yes, I teach him; he will never forget; it is for amother to teach her son his duty. He shall be a scourge to all theaccursed race. He shall kill, kill, kill, knowing no rest till he joinhis father--his father whom the French have killed!"

  The boy looked up in her face with eyes of terror.

  "Put your hands together," she continued, "and swear that henceforth, inwar or peace, at home or abroad, in the street or in the field, you willkill every Frenchman you may meet, kill without mercy or ruth, and thusavenge me and all your house. Swear, Juanino!"

  Jack shuddered as he heard the little fellow, whose age was perhapsseven years, repeat the terrible oath his frantic mother demanded ofhim. At that moment the horrors of war were brought home to Jack's mindmore forcibly than ever before; nothing in the terrible retreat toCorunna had been so terrible as the picture of the young widow'sdesolate grief and passionate longing for vengeance.

  He passed on, with Tio Jorge and Pepito, into a small plaza out of whichseveral narrow streets radiated. The place was familiar to him, and afew steps farther on he recognized the Casa Alvarez, and remembered,what he had forgotten till now, that the house of his old friend stoodalmost within a stone's-throw of the Santa Engracia convent.

  "This was the head-quarters of Don Hernando," said Tio Jorge. "You hadbetter make it yours also, Senor."

  "Yes. But let us go on to the ramparts now. I want to see theposition, and the men. Do you know, by the by, what has become of thefamily of Don Fernan Alvarez? The old Senor himself is dead."

  "I cannot tell you, Senor. He was a good man, was Don Fernan. He hadone daughter; was it not so? But they were far above a poor man likeme, and I know nothing about the Senorita."

  Jack felt a curious pleasure in knowing that the Casa Alvarez was in hisown district, and would actually be his head-quarters. Hastening downthe street towards the walls, he enquired whether the ramparts weremanned in force at night in anticipation of attack during the hours ofdarkness. Tio Jorge informed him that the French had not risked a nightattack in force since the beginning of the siege. They continued theirmining operations, but they had found it so difficult to make headwayabove-ground, even in the daylight, that actual assaults and fightingseldom or never occurred between dark and dawn. The ramparts weretherefore guarded by a sufficient number of sentries, but not occupiedin force, the defenders being only too glad to recruit their overtaxedenergies with sleep. When Jack arrived at the wall he found sentriesposted at intervals of a few yards. He learnt from Tio Jorge that hiscommand extended from the Santa Engracia convent some fifty yards to thenorth, where it adjoined the Porta Quemada district under the charge ofa personal friend of Palafox, Don Casimir Ulloa. It happened that DonCasimir was making a round of his sentries before leaving for the night,and to him Jack was introduced by Tio Jorge at the point where theircommands met. Tio Jorge then took his leave, promising to call at theCasa Alvarez on the way back, and see that a room was arranged for theSenor's occupation.

  "Is all quiet to-night, Senor?" asked Jack, after the first complimentshad passed.

  "Yes; nothing has happened since the French blew up a house by the SantaEngracia convent just before dark. But one thing puzzles me, Senor. Doyou know this part of the city?"

  "I was here once before, but that was six years ago, and I was too mucha child then to remember it well now."

  "But you will know that beyond the wall here, which has been greatlystrengthened and thickened, the ground slopes steeply down to the RiverHuerba. You can see it; the water shines in the moonlight. On theother side of the ravine, at the top, are the French trenches."

  "I see. What puzzles you, Senor?"

  "I am coming to it. Every night for ten days past I have been at thisspot at this hour, and every night I have either seen or heard a Frenchsentry exactly opposite. To-night, however, there is a difference. Atdusk we saw the Frenchman tramping up and down behind the trench, justout of range of your good English muskets, Senor; we heard the guardchanged; but a few minutes ago, when I looked, I found that the sentryhad disappeared. Perhaps my eyes are at fault. Will you look, Senor?"

  Jack looked across the ravine. A pale half-moon was shining, as yetsomewhat low in the sky, and the ravine and river-bed were gloomed byblack shadows. The line of the entrenchments showed rugged against thebackground, in which watch-fires here and there marked the night bivouacof the French. From the far distance came faint and fitful noises; thegurgling wash of the river against its embankments made the only soundin the vicinity. Jack ran his eyes along the edge of the entrenchmentfor a hundred yards in each direction. Certainly no sentinel was insight.

  "Perhaps he is resting," he remarked. "There is no need for him totramp up and down in sight all the time."

  "True, Senor, but why to-night? Why on this night should we miss whatwe have seen without exception for many nights past?"

  "It is certainly strange. I shouldn't think it implied any particulardanger of an attack; should you?"

  At this moment Pepito touched him on the arm.

  "Something crawling, Senor!" he said.

  He pointed across the river towards a spot in deep shadow half-way downthe opposite slope. Jack looked in that direction, but failed toperceive any moving object.

  "You are mistaken, Pepito," he said.

  The gipsy was stretched now at full length on the wall, peering, withhis hands arching his eyes, into the darkness.

  "A man crawling!" he whispered. "See!"

  Jack and Don Casimir followed the boy's example, and, keeping themoonlight from their eyes, at length discerned a dark figure crawlingslowly down the steep. A moment later, all three caught sight of asecond figure following at a short interval the first.

  "They are coming within range," whispered Don Casimir. "I will order mymen to shoot."

  "Stay!" said Jack quickly. "Let us wait. Pass the word along thesentries not to shoot if they see two men approaching. Two men will notoverpower us and capture the city, Senor; there is something puzzling,as you say, in all this. We must find out what it means."

  The men had now reached the foot of the opposite slope. On the rampartsseveral pairs of eyes were watching them eagerly. At the brink of theriver they halted for a moment, then stepped into the water. Jacklooked questioningly at Don Casimir.

  "Yes," said the latter, "the Huerba is fordable here."

  Two figures were wading through the water. They gained the nearer bank;they climbed up. When on dry land again they no longer crawled, butclambered as rapidly as might be up the steep ascent to the wall. Jackfelt growing interest and excitement as they came up foot by foot, withno attempt at concealment. They were within four yards of the wall.

  "Quien vive?" asked Don Casimir in clear lo
w tones.

  "Silencio!" said the first of the two figures, holding up a warninghand. "I am a friend; help me up."

  The wall was some fourteen feet in height, and there was no apparentmeans of assisting the man below.

  "If two of your men let down their muskets, I can catch hold of them,"said the man in a whisper.

  The hint was acted on. Don Casimir beckoned up two of his men, who laidthemselves flat on the wall, lowering their muskets until the man belowwas able to grasp a barrel in each hand. Then they gradually drew upthe weapons hand over hand, and the man with them. Don Casimir, withdrawn sword, kept a sharp look-out to assure himself that the new-comerswere alone, and that this strange incident was not part of a French plotto rush the wall.

  In half a minute the spokesman was standing beside the little group.

  "Do I see Don Casimir?" he said, looking keenly at the Spaniard, who hadgiven a start of recognition as his features came into view above theparapet.

  "Yes, Senor," replied Don Casimir with a bow. "This is a strangemeeting."

  "Strange indeed! Ah, what an hour it has been! I thought we shouldnever have got through. Turn where we would, the French seemed to havesentries everywhere."

  "Except yonder, Don Miguel," said Jack quietly, coming a little moredistinctly into view.

  Miguel made a quick turn at the sound of his voice, and with a scarcelyperceptible pause said:

  "Ah! my dear young friend, who would have thought of seeing you here?What a pleasant meeting! Yes, as you say, except yonder. But, as ithappens, the sentry yonder is now keeping guard in another world." Hetapped the hilt of his sword significantly. "We were not in the mood tobrook delay, and he was--well, one Frenchman the less."

  "All the same, they have replaced him pretty soon," remarked Jack dryly,"unless that is his ghost."

  He pointed, as he spoke, to the form of a sentry leaning on his musketat the spot that had been described to him by Don Casimir as thecustomary post.

  "It is strange," replied Miguel musingly; "one might have expected acommotion--when they found the body. But, yes--no doubt they hush thesethings up. It would reflect on their discipline."

  Don Casimir, who had been looking from one to the other in someastonishment, here interposed.

  "But--do I understand, Don Miguel, that you have come through the Frenchlines?"

  "Why, certainly, my friend; how else should I be here? We are fromSeville, from the Supreme Junta, with despatches. We have riddenpost-haste four hundred and fifty miles in six days, as my friend heremust know, and by a miracle have succeeded in eluding the wolves yonder.But that reminds me--I should lose no time in delivering my despatchesto the captain-general. I suppose he is still in the Aljafferia? Howgoes it in Saragossa? I fear you have been hard pressed."

  "Yes, indeed," replied Don Casimir. "But the pack of wolves outside isbeing thinned. Every yard costs a man."

  "Ah! I shall have much to hear," said Miguel, with a meaning look atJack; "and on my side I have not a little to tell. Adios, Senores!"

  With a low bow he turned away, followed by his companion, whom Jack hadat once recognized, when he gained the summit of the wall, as theone-eyed servitor of evil memory. There was no look of recognition inthe man's fixed stare as he left the group a few paces behind hismaster. Jack, however, was amused to note the attitude of Pepito, whostood fingering his little knife with an air of tragedy worthy of Mr.Kean himself.

  "It was a daring feat," said Don Casimir, looking into the moonlitdistance as if gauging the difficulties that must have beset any attemptto approach Saragossa from that side. "Indeed, except yourself, Ibelieve no one has got in for at least three weeks past. But we havealways known Don Miguel as a match for any Frenchman. He gave manyproofs of astuteness during the first siege. He is not easy to beatwhen readiness and resourcefulness are needed. It is strange," he addedafter an interval, during which his eye rested on the figure of theFrench sentry, "very strange. I could have sworn it is the sameman--the man I missed an hour ago. But, of course, it cannot be."

  "The moonlight may be deceptive," suggested Jack; but as he left thespot to return to his quarters he looked thoughtful.

 

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