by G. A. Henty
"So without another word he turned to his soldiers and ordered them to fire the village from end to end.
"'It is outrageous,' my brother said, and the others joined him in the cry. I, too, implored him to pause before having such an order carried into execution. His only reply was to give the order to his men.
"The six principal men were seized at once, were set with their backs against the wall of a house, and shot."
"You cannot mean it!" Jack exclaimed indignantly. "Surely such an outrage could never be perpetrated by civilized soldiers?"
"I saw it done," the priest said bitterly. "I tried to throw myself between the victims and their murderers, but I was held back by force by the soldiers. Imagine the scene if you can--the screaming women, the outburst of vain fury among the men, The bridegroom, in his despair at seeing his father murdered, seized a stick and rushed at the French officer; but he, drawing a pistol, shot him dead, and the soldiers poured a volley into his companions, killing some eight or ten others. Resistance was hopeless. Those who were unwounded fled; those who fell were bayoneted on the spot. I took my niece's arm and led her quietly away. Even the French soldiers drew back before us. You should have seen her face. Madre de Dios! I see it now--I see it always. She died that night. Not one word passed her lips from the moment when her father and her affianced husband fell dead before her eyes. An hour later the troop rode off, and the people stole back to bury their dead among the ashes of what had been their homes. I went to Saragossa after reading the funeral service over them. I saw Tesse and told him of the scene I had witnessed, and demanded vengeance. He laughed in my face. Senor, I persisted, and he got angry and told me that, were it not for my cloth, he would hang me from the steeple. I called down Heaven's curse upon him, and left him and came home. Do you wonder, senor, that I found it hard to spare those Frenchmen for whom you pleaded? Do you wonder that I, a man of peace, lead out my villagers to slaughter our enemy?"
"I do not, indeed!" Jack exclaimed warmly. "Such acts as these would stir the blood of the coldest into fire; and, priest or no priest, a man would be less than a man who did not try to take vengeance for so foul a deed. Have many massacres of this sort been perpetrated?"
"Many," the priest replied, "and in no case has any redress been obtained by the relatives of the victims."
"And throughout all Arragon, does the same hatred of the French prevail?"
"Everywhere," the priest said.
"Then King Charles would meet with an enthusiastic welcome here!"
"I do not say that," the priest answered. "He would be well received, doubtless, simply because he is the enemy of the French; but for himself, no. We Arragonese cannot for the life of us see why we should be ruled over by a foreigner; and in some respects a German king is even less to be desired than a French one. The connection between the two Latin nations is naturally closer than between us and the Germans, and a French king would more readily adapt himself to our ways than would a stiff and thick headed German.
"Apart from the recent doings of the French army Arragon would have preferred Philip to Charles. Moreover, Charles is looked upon as the choice of the Catalans and Valencians, and why should the men of Arragon take the king others have chosen? No, King Charles will doubtless be received well because he appears as the enemy of the French; but you will not find that the people of Arragon will make any great sacrifices in his behalf. Let a French army enter our province again, every man will rise in arms against it; but there will be little disposition to raise troops to follow King Charles beyond the limits of the province. Castile is strong for Philip; the jealousy there of the Catalans is even greater than here, and the fact that Arragon will go with Catalonia and Valencia will only render the Castilians more earnest in the cause of Philip. There have been several skirmishes already between bands of our Miquelets and those of Castile, and the whole country along the border is greatly disturbed."
"It is a pity that Spaniards cannot agree among themselves as to who shall be king."
"Ah, my son, but it will be very long yet before. Spaniards agree upon any point. It is a mistake to think of us as one nation. We are half a dozen nations under one king. If you are asked your nationality, you reply an Englishman. If you ask a Spaniard, he will reply, I am a Castilian or a Catalan, an Arragonese or Biscayan --never I am a Spaniard. We hate each other as you Scotchmen and Englishmen hated each other a hundred years back, and even now regard yourselves as different peoples. What connection is there between the hardy mountaineer of the northern provinces and the easygoing peasant of Valencia or Andalusia? Nothing. Consequently, if one part of Spain declares for one man as a king, you may be sure that the other will declare against him.
"As long as we had great men, Spaniards, for our kings--and the descent went in the regular way from father to son--things went smoothly, because no pretender could have a shadow of claim. As between two foreign princes, each man has a right to choose for himself. Were there any Spaniard with a shadow of claim, all parties would rally round him; but, unfortunately, this is not so; and I foresee an epoch of war and trouble before the matter is settled. For myself, I tell you I would not give that flask of wine were I able to put the crown upon the head of one or other of these foreigners. Let whoever gets the crown govern well and strongly, tax my villagers lightly, and interfere in no way with our privileges, and I shall be well content, and such you will find is the opinion of most men in Spain. And now, tell me if there is aught that I can do for you. You say you must be on your way by daybreak. Tell me in which direction you journey, and it will be hard if I cannot find a friend there with whom my introduction will insure you a hearty welcome."
"If you can tell me where are the largest gatherings of Miquelets, I can tell you which way I shall ride," Jack replied. "My mission is to ascertain what aid the king can rely upon in this province."
"Three days ago there were many thousands of men under arms," the priest replied; "by tonight there will be less than as many hundreds. The day Tesse crossed the frontier with his army the greater portion of the bands went to their homes, and their arms will be laid aside until the news comes that the French army is on its return from Barcelona. I fancy there is but little chance of our seeing King Charles among us. In another day or two Tesse will be before Barcelona; and joined, as he will be there, by the French army marching down from Roussillon, he will make quick work of that town, and King Charles will have the choice of going to Valencia to be hunted shortly thence, or of sailing away again from the country in your ships."
"It would seem like it," Jack agreed; "but you are reckoning without the Earl of Peterborough."
"Your English general must be a wonder," the priest said, "a marvel; but he cannot accomplish impossibilities. What can he do with two or three thousand trained troops against twenty thousand veteran French soldiers?"
"I cannot tell what he will do," Jack laughed; "but you may rely upon it that he will do something, and I would take fair odds that he will somehow or other save Barcelona and rid Catalonia of its invaders."
"That I judge to be altogether impossible," the priest replied. "Anything that man could do I am ready to admit that your general is capable of; but I do not judge this to be within the range of possibilities. If you will take my advice, my son, you will not linger here, but will ride for Valencia and embark on board your ships with him when the time comes."
"We shall see," Jack said, laughing. "I have faith in the improbable. It may not be so very long before I drop in again to drink another flask of your wine on my way through Arragon with King Charles on his march toward Madrid."
"If you do, my son, I will produce a bottle of wine to which this is but ditch water. I have three or four stored away in my cellar which I preserve for great occasions. They are the remains of the cellar of my predecessor, as good a judge of wine as ever lived. It is forty years since he laid them by, and they were, he said, the best vintage he had ever come across. Had the good old man died ten years earlier, what a her
itage would have been mine! but in his later years he was not so saving as it behooves a good man to be, and indulged in them on minor occasions; consequently, but two dozen remained when I succeeded to the charge twenty years ago. I, too, was not sufficiently chary of them to begin with, and all but six bottles were drunk in the first ten years. Since then I have been as stingy as a miser, and but two bottles have been opened."
"I hope, father, that you have laid in a similar supply for whomsoever may come after you."
"Surely I have, my son. Fifteen years ago I had a hogshead of the finest vintage in the neighborhood bricked up in my cellar. I had an inscription placed on the wall by which, should I be taken suddenly, my successor may know of the store that awaits him. At present you would not find the inscription did you search for it; for when those troubles began I filled up the letters in the stone with mortar, and gave the wall two or three coats of whitewash. I did not choose to run any risk of my grand wine going down the throats of thirsty French soldiers. It would be an act of sacrilege. When matters are settled, and we are at peace again, I will pick out the mortar from the letters; but not till then. I have often reflected since how short sighted it was not to have stowed away another hogshead for my own consumption. It would have been something to have looked forward to in my declining years."
"Ah, father, who knows what may happen before that? The wall may fall down, and then naturally you would wish to see whether the wine is in as good a condition as it should be. Besides, you will say to yourself, why, when my successor left me but a miserable two dozen of that grand wine of his, should I bequeath a whole hogshead to him who may come after me, and who, moreover, may be so bad a judge of wine that he will value my treasure no more than an equal quantity of the rough country vintage?"
"Avaunt, tempter!" the priest said, laughing. "But," he added more seriously, "you have frightened me. I never thought of that. I have always pictured my successor as a man who would appreciate good wine as I do myself. Truly, it would be a terrible misfortune did he not do so--a veritable throwing of pearls before swine. Now that you have presented this dreadful idea it will be ever in my mind. I shall no longer think of my hogshead with unmixed satisfaction."
"The idea is a terrible one, truly," Jack said gravely, "and to prevent it I would advise you when the time of peace arrives to open your cave, to bottle off your wine, and to secure its being appreciated by indulging in it yourself on special occasions and holidays, taking care always to leave a store equal to, or even superior to, that which you yourself inherited."
"I will think it over, my son, and it may be that I shall take your advice. Such a misfortune as that which you have suggested is too terrible to think of."
"It is so, father, terrible indeed; and I feel confident that you will do the best in your power to prevent the possibility of its occurrence. Besides, you know, wine may be kept even too long. I judge you not to be more than forty-five now; with so good a cook and so good a cellar you may reasonably expect to live to the age of eighty; there is, therefore, plenty of time for you to lay in another hogshead to mature for your successor."
The priest burst into a roar of laughter, in which Jack joined him.
"Your reasoning powers are admirable," he said when he recovered his gravity, "and you have completely convinced me. An hour ago if it had been suggested to me that I should open that cellar I should have viewed the proposal with horror; now it seems to me that it is the very best thing that could be done for all parties, including the wine itself."
There was some further chat as to the course which Jack would follow in the morning, and he decided finally to ride to the borders of Castile in order that he might learn as much as possible as to the feeling of people in that province. Father Ignacio gave him a letter of introduction to the priest in charge of a village a mile or two within the border of Arragon, and the next morning Jack started at daybreak, after a hearty adieu from his host, who insisted on rising to see him off.
CHAPTER XIV: A PRISONER
Jack, with his two troopers, rode away from the hospitable cottage of the priest in high spirits. He determined to avoid Saragossa, as he was not charged with any direct mission from the earl, and wished, therefore, to avoid any official intercourse with the leaders of the province. As soon as the marshal had marched, the people there had risen, had driven out the small French garrison left, and had resumed the management of their own affairs. Jack learned, however, that the city had not formally declared for King Charles. As the priest had told him would be the case, Jack encountered no bodies of armed men during the day; the country had a peaceful aspect, the peasants were working in the fields, and at the villages through which he passed the English uniforms excited a feeling of curiosity rather than of interest. He stopped at several of these and entered into conversation with the inhabitants. He found everywhere an intense hatred of the French prevailing, while but little interest was evinced in the respective claims of Charles and Philip.
After a very long ride he arrived, at nightfall, near the spot to which he was bound. In this neighborhood he observed a greater amount of watchfulness and preparation than had prevailed elsewhere. The men, for the most part, remained in their villages, and went about armed. Jack learned that an inroad by the Miquelets of Castile was deemed probable, and that it was thought possible that another French force might follow Tesse from Madrid to Barcelona.
It was late in the evening before Jack reached his destination, where, on his presenting his letter of introduction, he was most heartily received by the priest.
"Father Ignacio tells me," he said when he had read it, "that you are not only to be welcomed as an officer of the great English general, but that you are in every way deserving of friendship; he adds, too, that you are a first rate judge of wine, and that you can be trusted as an adviser upon knotty and difficult matters."
Jack laughed. "I only gave the good father my advice upon two points," he said; "the first was the admitting to terms of surrender of a body of French troops with whom he was engaged in battle when I arrived; the second was upon the important question of broaching or not broaching a hogshead of particularly good wine."
"If you advised that the hogshead should be broached," the priest said, smiling, "I can warrant that my good brother Ignacio followed your advice, and can well understand the respect in which he seems to hold your judgment. But do not let us stand talking here.
"Your men will find a stable behind the house where they can stand the horses. Alas! it is uninhabited at present, for my mule, the gentlest and best in the province, was requisitioned--which is another word for stolen--by the French as they passed through. My faithful beast! I miss her every hour of the day, and I doubt not that she misses me still more sorely. Tell me, senor, my brother Ignacio writes me that he has captured many animals from the French --was Margaretta among them? She was a large mule, and in good condition; indeed, there was some flesh on her bones. She was a dark chestnut with a white star on the forehead, a little white on her fore feet, and white below the hocks on the hind legs; she had a soft eye, and a peculiar twist in jerking her tail."
The manner of the priest was so earnest that Jack repressed a smile with difficulty.
"I did notice among the mules in one of the wagons one marked somewhat similarly to your description, and, if I mistake not, it, with another, fell to the share of the good priest; but I cannot say that it had much flesh upon its bones; indeed, it was in very poor case. Nor did I notice that its eyes were particularly soft, or that there was any peculiarity in the twitching of its tail."
"It may be Margaretta," the priest said with some excitement; "the poor beast would naturally lose flesh in the hands of the French, while as to the switch in the tail, it was a sign of welcome which she gave me when I took an apple or a piece of bread into her stable, and she would not be likely so to greet strangers. I will lose no time in writing to Ignacio to inquire further into the matter. Verily, it seems to me as if the saint had sent you speciall
y here as a bearer of this good news."
Jack spent a pleasant evening with the priest, and learned much as to the state of things upon the frontier. The priest represented the Castilians as bitterly opposed to the claims of Charles; they had no grievances against the French, who had behaved with strict discipline in that province, and had only commenced their excesses upon crossing the frontier into Arragon. This they regarded, though wrongfully, as a hostile country; for, previous to their arrival, the people there had taken no part either way in the struggle, but the overbearing manner of Tesse, and the lax discipline of his troops, had speedily caused an intense feeling of irritation. Resistance had been offered to foraging parties of the French army, and the terrible vengeance which had been taken by Tesse for these acts had roused the whole province in a flame of insurrection.
"There are several bodies of French cavalry across the frontier," the priest said; "occasionally they make flying raids into Arragon, but, as you see, the people are armed, and prepared, and ready to give them a hot reception. The Castilians are like ourselves; if at any time an army should march in this direction against Madrid, the Miquelets will oppose them just as we should oppose the French, but they will not leave their homes to interfere with us, for they know well enough that did they do so we also should cross the line, and fire and destruction would be carried through all the villages on both sides of the border. So at present there is nothing to fear from Castile, but if your English general were to drive the French out of the country, he would have hard work ere he overcame the resistance of that province."