Two months later, that is to say, toward the middle of January, John
Joseph, his wife, and his daughter were seated one evening around the
brazier. The sky had been covered for several days with heavy clouds that
sent down their rain with a steadiness not usual in storms. The wind that
came from the Levant roared as if it brought with it, to terrify Spain,
the menacing howls of the savage children of Africa and the growling of
its lions.
"Who knows what they may be going through now!" said Catherine, in a voice
choked with emotion.
"Ah, merciful God," answered her mother, "with swamps for a floor, tents
that let the water through for shelter, and the cholera killing them by
hundreds, and the Moors lying in ambush for them or treacherously
following them, and those eternal nights that swallow up the days! There
is no strength nor courage that could bear up against so many ills."
"And that is not the worst," said John Joseph, with the thoughtless
frankness of the peasant, bringing his foot heavily down on the floor and
raising his eyes to heaven.
"What! There are worse things yet?" said Maria, anxious and surprised.
"Why, what else is there, John Joseph? What else? Speak out."
"Hunger!" answered her husband in a funereal voice.
"Holy Mary!" cried the poor mother in terror. "What is that you say, man?
And the provisions, then?"
"Provisions they cannot get there; they must be sent by sea from Spain;
and although they took plenty with them, when they get used up more must
be sent, and with these storms, to which there is neither stop nor stay,
not even the birds could cross the Strait. Those are the chances of war,
Maria; and if it has pleased God to send His storms precisely in these
days it must be to put our courage and our constancy to the proof, Maria,
so that we may go to Him and ask His help, and so that the victory, being
more dearly bought, may be the more brilliant and the more prized."
"Or the sufferings and the death of our soldiers the more deeply felt and
bitterly lamented," returned his wife. "Merciful God! Tempestuous weather,
an epidemic, fierce and treacherous enemies around them, and hunger! Who
would not lose heart with all this?"
"The Spanish soldier, Maria."
"And will the generals and the great people come back?"
"Neither the one nor the other, Maria. And if any of them should be
obliged to come back because they are sick or wounded, it will be in grief
and rage, and only because they can't help themselves; I know them, Maria,
I know them."
"What, are they all going to perish, then?"
"Don't imagine it, for God and the Holy Virgin will bring them safely
through; hold that for an article of faith."
"Let us ask them to do it, then," groaned the unhappy mother. "Mother of
the forsaken! where are my sons? What has become of them? Are they alive?
If they are, what will they not be suffering, and what will they not
suffer in the future, if thou dost not protect them? How their hearts will
be filled with anguish and their minds with despair! Holy Mother! if I
only had news of them, even. Let us pray to the Virgin to intercede for
them."
The family began to recite the rosary with that fervor which changes
anguish to hope, and sorrow to resignation; and scarcely had they ended
when a little boy called out from the door:
"Uncle John Joseph, my father says there is a letter in the post-office
for you, and that it is from the Christian's camp over yonder."
John Joseph, with the activity of twenty years, hurried out of the house,
while Maria and her daughter, falling on their knees before an image of
the Virgin, raised their clasped hands in prayer.
John Joseph soon returned, bringing with him one of his cronies who knew
how to read and who proceeded to read aloud the letter which the former
had carried in his trembling hand.
"MY DEAR PARENTS: I hope that when you receive this you will be enjoying
as good health as I desire for myself. Michael and I are well, and at your
service. The cholera is raging again, but we laugh at it. Every day of
action is a day of pleasure and enjoyment for us; for it is happiness
enough for us to win glory for our country and to see the enthusiasm of
everybody; for this increases every day, as well among us of the ranks as
among the officers and generals, and which shows most it would be hard to
say. The mess has been a little scanty in these last days, because the sea
was fiercer than the Moors themselves, and the boats were unable to reach
us with the supplies; but what matter? The worst of it was that we had no
tobacco. And so it happened that the commander-in-chief, who came among us
encouraging us, like a greatly respected but very careful father, came up
to me and said: 'Well, my boy, are you very hungry?' And I answered him:
'The hunger is nothing, General; if I only had--if I only had a
cigarette.'--And what do you think he did? He went to his tent and brought
from it an enormous box of cigars that the Queen had presented to him for
the campaign; and saying that Her Majesty would be glad that they should
serve to lighten the labors of her faithful soldiers, he distributed them
among us. We have received provisions, thanks to the navy, that on this
occasion did not seem the sister but the mother of the army; and as for
that brave General Bustillo, a hundred lives, if we had them, wouldn't be
enough to pay him for all he has done for us. Hurrah for the navy, father,
notwithstanding that your worship doesn't like the sea.
"You must know, father, that a prince of the royal house of France has
arrived here. Although tall and of handsome presence, he is but a boy--
only seventeen. If your worship had seen him, you would have said that he
was only a stripling, and not fit for such hard service, but you would
have changed your mind if you had seen how he attacked the Moors. On my
faith I had always believed that, from Santiago down, only the Spaniards
attacked the Moors in that way. We believe here that what he wanted to do
was to perform another exploit like the one related by Michael's mother of
Hernando del Pulgar in her native Granada, and to fasten the Ave-Maria on
the tent of Don Manuel Habas, and that he would have done it, too, if he
hadn't been held back. And mind you, father, it is a very noble thing, and
one worthy of admiration, to come, without anything obliging him to it, to
this war, which is no child's play, just for the sake of proving himself
brave. True it is that to have that name is worth more than all the gold
in the world, and lifts one a foot above the ground.
"We have made more than half a dozen charges with the bayonet, father,
like the one in which your worship took part. These charges are not, as
one might say, greatly to the taste of the Moors, who, when they hear the
call to the charge, to which we have given the name of General Prim's
Polka, tremble and turn pale and fall back. [Note: It may properly be
related here that this same division, with its leader, General Prim,
reconnoitring at a few leagues distance from Tetuan, came upon a poor old
Moorish woman, sick and abandoned by her people; and that putting her on a
stretcher, they carried her on their shoulders to Tetuan with all the
gentleness of sisters of charity. (Note of the Author.)]
"Michael gives me many remembrances for you, and bids me tell Catherine
that he does not forget her, and he bids me tell you, father, that you
were right when you said that his saint would not neglect the weather-vane
that has always pointed for Spain, for we have never once been defeated,
and mind you that the Moors are valiant men, and that they fight with
desperate courage. With this I say good-bye, asking your blessing for your
son, GASPAR.
"Mother: I never enter action without commending myself to the Virgin, as
you told me to do."
It will be easy to understand the delight of the parents on reading this
cheering and animated letter, which was read many times over, for as soon
as it was known in the village that a letter had arrived from Africa, the
house was besieged with people eager to hear the news of the most national
and popular war which Spain has had since the Independence.