I remember very well that the day after the cuffing bestowed on me by
Doña Francisca in her wrath at my irreverent conduct and her intense
aversion to all naval warfare, I went out to attend my master in his
daily walk. He leaned upon my arm, and on the other side of him walked
Marcial; we went slowly to suit Don Alonso's feeble pace and the
awkwardness of the old sailor's wooden leg. It was like one of those
processions in which a group of tottering and worm-eaten saints are
carried along on a shaky litter, threatening to fall if the pace of
the bearers is in the least accelerated. The two old men had no energy
or motive power left but their brave hearts, which still acted as
truly as a machine just turned out of a workshop; or like the needle
of a ship's compass which, notwithstanding its unerring accuracy,
could do nothing to work the crazy craft it served to guide! During
our walk my master--after having asserted, as usual, that if Admiral
Córdova had only tacked to port instead of starboard the battle of
'the 14th' would never have been lost--turned the conversation once
more on their grand project, and though they did not put their scheme
into plain words, no doubt because I was present, I gathered from what
they said that they intended to effect their purpose by stealth,
quietly walking out of the house one morning without my mistress's
knowledge.
When we went in again indifferent matters were talked over. My master,
who was always amiable to his wife, was more so, that day, than ever.
Doña Francisca could say nothing, however trivial, that he did not
laugh at immoderately. He even made her a present of some trifles,
doing his utmost to keep her in a good humor, and it was no doubt as a
result of this conspicuous complaisance that my mistress was crosser
and more peevish than I had ever seen her. No accommodation was
possible; she quarrelled with Marcial over heaven knows what trifle,
and desired him to quit the house that instant; she used the most
violent language to her husband; and during dinner, though he praised
every dish with unwonted warmth, the lady was implacable and went on
grumbling and scolding.
At last it was time for evening prayers, a solemn ceremony performed
in the dining-room in the presence of all the household; and my
master, who would not unfrequently go to sleep while he lazily
muttered the _Paternoster_, was that evening unusually wide awake and
prayed with genuine fervor, his voice being heard above all the rest.
Another incident occurred which struck me particularly. The walls of
the rooms were decorated with two distinct sets of prints: sacred
subjects and maps--the hierarchy of Heaven on one hand and the
soundings all round Europe and America on the other. After supper my
master was standing in the passage, studying a mariner's chart and
tracing lines upon it with his trembling forefinger, when Doña
Francisca, who had gathered some hints of the plan for evasion, and
who always appealed to Heaven when she caught her husband red-handed
in any manifestations of nautical enthusiasm, came up behind him, and
throwing up her arms, exclaimed:
"Merciful Heaven! If you are not enough to provoke a Saint!"
"But, my dear," my master timidly replied, "I was only tracing the
course taken by Alcalá Galiano and Valdés in the schooners _Sutil_ and
_Mejicana_ when we went to explore the straits of Magellan. It was a
delightful expedition--I must have told you all about it."
"I shall come to burning all that paper trash!" cried Doña Francisca.
"A plague on voyages and on the wandering dog of a Jew who invented
them. You would do better to take some concern for the salvation of
your soul, for the long and the short of it is you are no chicken.
What a man! to be sure--what a man to have to take care of!"
She could not get over it; I happened to pass that way, but I cannot
remember whether she relieved her fury by giving me a thrashing and
demonstrating at once the elasticity of my ears and the weight of her
hands. The fact is that these little endearments were so frequently
repeated, that I cannot recollect whether I received them on this
particular occasion; all I remember is that my master, in spite of his
utmost amiability, entirely failed to mollify his wife.
Meanwhile I have neglected to speak of Rosita; she was in a very
melancholy mood, for Señor de Malespina had not made his appearance
all day nor written her a note; all my excursions to the market-place
having proved vain. Evening came and with it grief fell on the young
girl's soul, for there was no hope now of seeing him till next
day--but suddenly, after supper had been ordered up, there was a loud
knock at the door. I flew to open it, and it was he; before I opened
it my hatred had recognized him.
I fancy I can see him now as he stood before me then, shaking his
cloak which was wet with rain. Whenever I recall that man I see him as
I saw him then. To be frankly impartial, I must say he was a very
handsome young fellow, with a fine figure, good manners, and a
pleasant expression; rather cold and reserved at first, grave and
extremely courteous with the solemn and rather exaggerated politeness
of the old school. He was dressed that evening in a frock-coat, with
riding breeches and top boots; he wore a Portuguese hat and a very
handsome cloak of scarlet cloth, lined with silk, which was the height
of fashion with the gilded youth of that time.
As soon as he had come in I saw that something serious had happened.
He went into the dining-room where all were much surprised to see him
at so late an hour, for he never called in the evening; but my young
mistress had hardly time to be glad before she understood that this
unexpected visit was connected with some painful occasion.
"I have come to take leave of you," said Malespina. They all sat
stupefied, and Rosita turned as white as the paper on which I am
writing; then she turned scarlet and then again as pale as death.
"But what has happened? Where are you going Don Rafael?" asked my
mistress. I have said that Malespina was an artillery officer, but I
did not mention that he was stationed at Cadiz and at Vejer only on
leave.
"As the fleet is short of men," he replied, "we are under orders to
embark and serve on board ship. They say a battle is inevitable and
most of the vessels are short of gunners."
"Christ, Mother Mary and Saint Joseph!" shrieked Doña Francisca almost
beside herself. "And they are taking you too? That is too much. Your
duties are on land, my friend. Tell them to manage as best they may;
if they want men let them find them. Upon my soul this is beyond a
joke!"
"But, my dear," said Don Alonso humbly, "do not you see that they
must...." But he could not finish his sentence, for Doña Francisca,
whose cup of wrath and grief was overflowing, proceeded to
apostrophize all the potentates of the earth.
"You--" she exclaimed, "anything and everything seems right in your
eyes, if only it is to benefit those blessed ships of war. And who, I
say, who is the demon from hell who has ordered land forces on board
ship? You need not tell me.--It is Buonaparte's doing. No Spaniard
would have concocted such an infernal plot. Go and tell them that you
are just going to be married. Come now," she added, turning to her
husband, "write to Gravina and tell him that this young man cannot
join the squadron." Then, seeing that her husband only shrugged his
shoulders, she cried:
"He is of no use whatever! Mercy on me! If only I wore trousers I
would be off to Cadiz and stop there till I had got you out of this
mess."
Rosita said not a word. I who was watching her narrowly perceived how
agitated she was. She never took her eyes off her lover, and if it had
not been for good manners and to keep up her dignity, she would have
cried and sobbed loudly to relieve the grief that was almost
suffocating her.
"The soldier," said Don Alonso, "is the slave of duty, and our young
friend is required by his country to serve on board ship in her
defence. He will gain glory in the impending struggle, and make his
name famous by some great deed which history will record as an example
to future generations."
"Oh yes--this, that and the other!" said Doña Francisca mimicking the
pompous tone in which her husband had made this speech. "We know--and
all for what? To humor those ne'er-do-weels at Madrid. Let them come
themselves to fire the cannons, and fight on their own account!--And
when do you start?"
"To-morrow morning. My leave is cut short and I am under orders to
proceed at once to Cadiz."
It would be impossible to describe the look that came into my young
mistress's face as she heard these words. The lovers looked at each
other, and a long and mournful silence fell after this announcement of
Malespina's immediate departure.
"But this is not to be borne!" exclaimed Doña Francisca. "They will be
calling out the peasantry next--and the women too, if the whim takes
them. Lord of Heaven!" she went on looking up to the ceiling with the
glare of a pythoness, "I do not fear to offend Thee by saying: Curses
on the inventor of ships--Curses on all who sail in them, and Curses
on the man who made the first cannon, with its thunder that is enough
to drive one mad, and to be the death of so many poor wretches who
never did any harm!"
Don Alonso looked at the young officer, expecting to read some
protest in his face against these insults to the noble science of
gunnery. Then he said:
"The worst of it is that the ships will lack material too and it would
be...."
Marcial, who had been listening at the door to the whole conversation,
could no longer contain himself. He came into the room saying:
"And why should they lack material?--The _Trinidad_ carries 140
guns--32 thirty-six pounders, 34 twenty-four pounders, 36
twelve-pounders, 18 eighty-pounders, and 10 mortars. The _Príncipe de
Astúrias_ carries 118, the _Santa Ana_ 120, the _Rayo_ 100, the
_Nepomuceno_, and the _San_ ..."
"What business have you to interfere!" exclaimed Doña Francisca. "And
what does it matter to us whether they carry fifty or eighty?" But
Marcial went on with his patriotic list all the same, but in a lower
voice and speaking only to my master, who dared not express his
approbation. Doña Francisca went on:
"But for God's sake, Don Rafael, do not go. Explain that you are a
landsman, that you are going to be married. If Napoleon must fight,
let him fight alone: let him come forward and say: 'Here am I--kill
me, you English--or let me kill you.' Why should Spain be subject to
his lordship's vagaries?"
"I must admit," said Malespina, "that our alliance with France has
proved most disastrous."
"Then why was it made? Every one says that this Godoy is an ignorant
fellow. You might think a nation could be governed by playing the
guitar!"
"After the treaty of Basle," the young man said, "we were forced to
become the enemies of the English, who defeated our fleet off Cape St.
Vincent."
"Ah! there you have it!" exclaimed Don Alonso, striking the table
violently with his fist. "If Admiral Córdova had given the word to
tack to port, to the vessels in front--in accordance with the simplest
rules of strategy--the victory would have been ours. I consider that
proved to a demonstration, and I stated my opinion at the time. But
every man must keep his place."
"The fact remains that we were beaten," said Malespina. "The defeat
might not have led to such serious consequences if the Spanish
ministry had not signed the treaty of San Ildefonso with the French
republic. That put us at the mercy of the First Consul, obliging us to
support him in wars which had no aim or end but the furthering of his
ambition. The peace of Amiens was no better than a truce; England and
France declared war again immediately, and then Napoleon demanded our
assistance. We wished to remain neutral, for that treaty did not
oblige us to take any part in the second war, but he insisted on our
co-operation with so much determination that the King of Spain, to
pacify him, agreed to pay him a subsidy of a hundred millions of
_reales_--it was purchasing our neutrality with gold. But even so we
did not get what we had paid for; in spite of this enormous sacrifice
we were dragged into war. England forced us into it by seizing,
without any justification, four of our frigates returning from America
freighted with bullion. After such an act of piracy the parliament of
Madrid had no choice but to throw the country into the hands of
Napoleon, and that was exactly what he wished. Our navy agreed to
submit to the decision of the First Consul--nay, he was already
Emperor--and he, hoping to conquer the English by stratagem, sent off
the combined fleets to Martinique, intending to draw off the British
naval forces from the coasts of Europe. Thus he hoped to realize his
favorite dream of invading Great Britain; but this clever trick only
served to prove the inexperience and cowardice of the French Admiral
who, on his return to Europe would not share with our navy the glory
of the battle off Finisterre. Then, in obedience to the Emperor's
orders, the combined fleets were to enter Brest. They say that
Napoleon is furious with the French Admiral and intends to supplant
him immediately."
"But from what they say," Marcial began, putting his oar in again, as
we say, "Monsieur Corneta wants to cancel it, and is on the look-out
for some action which may wipe out the black mark against him. I am
only too glad, for then we shall see who can do something and who
cannot."
"One thing is certain," Malespina went on, "the English fleet is
cruising in our waters and means to blockade Cadiz. The Spanish
authorities think that our fleet ought not to go out of the bay, where
they have every chance of conquering the foe; but it seems that the
French are determined to go out to sea."
"We shall see," said my master. "It cannot fail to be a glorious
battle, any way."
"Glorious! yes...." replied Malespina. "But who can promise that
fortune shall favor us. You sailors indulge in many illusions and,
perhaps from seeing things too closely, you do not realize the
inferiority of our fleet to that of the English. They, besides having
a splendid artillery have all the materials at hand for repairing
their losses at once. As to the men, I need say nothing. The enemy's
sailors are the best in the world--all old and experienced seamen,
while only too many of the Spanish vessels are manned by raw recruits,
indifferent to their work and hardly knowing how to serve a gun; our
marines, again, are not all we could wish, for they have been
supplemented by land-forces--brave enough, no doubt, but certain to be
sea-sick."
"Well, well," said my master, "in the course of a few days we shall
know the end of it all."
"I know the end of it all very well," said Doña Francisca. "All these
gentlemen--though I am far from saying they will not have gained
glory--will come home with broken heads."
"What can you know about it?" exclaimed Don Alonso, unable to conceal
an impulse of vexation, which, however, lasted but a moment.
"More than you do," she retorted sharply. "But God have you in his
keeping, Don Rafael, that you may come back to us safe and sound."
This conversation had taken place during supper, which was a
melancholy meal, and after Doña Francisca's last speech no one said
another word. The meal ended, Malespina took a tender leave of them
all, and as a special indulgence on so solemn an occasion the
kind-hearted parents left the lovers together, allowing them to bid
each other adieu at their ease and unseen, so that nothing might
prevent their indulging in any demonstration which might relieve their
anguish. It is evident that I was not a spectator of the scene and I
know nothing of what took place; but it may be supposed that no
reticence on either side checked the expression of their feelings.
When Malespina came out of the room he was as pale as death; he once
more bid farewell to my master and mistress, who embraced him
affectionately, and was gone. When we went up to Rosita we found her
drowned in tears, and her grief was so desperate that her devoted
parents could not soothe her by any persuasion or argument, nor revive
her energy by any of the remedies for which I was sent backwards and
forwards to the apothecary. I must confess that I was so deeply
grieved at the distress of these hapless lovers that my rancorous
feelings against Malespina died away in my breast. A boy's heart is
easily appeased, and mine was always open to gentle and generous
impulses.