the ground, where the water was actually forming in puddles around him,
arose; and so wet was the soil, that the impression made by the weight
of his body was almost immediately filled with water. His limbs were so
benumbed and stiff that he could scarcely move, and his clothing was
drenched through the blanket and cloak in which he had been muffled up.
The soldiers, worn out with the fatigues of the preceding day, lay still
until the last moment for rest, and slept in ranks close together for
warmth, with their muskets under their great coats, and their knapsacks
beneath their heads for pillows. Here and there, apart from the rest,
one might be seen with his miserable wife and two or three little
children huddled close beside him, all nestling under the solitary
blanket, (provided by government for each man,) from which the steam
arose in a column, owing to the heat of their bodies acting on the
rain-soaked covering. The distant sentinels and cavalry videttes were
standing motionless and silent at intervals along the plain, where banks
of white mist were rolling slowly in the yellow lustre of the morning
sun, the rising light of which was gilding the summits of the mountains
above Albuquerque. All was misery and unutterable discomfort. Ronald
wrung the water from the feathers of his bonnet, and kept himself in
motion to dry his regimentals and underclothing, which stuck close to
his skin. He now perceived that, in addition to his blanket, Evan had
during the storm cast over him his own great-coat, standing out the
misery of the night in his thin uniform. When he met Ronald's eye, he
was shivering with cold, exhaustion, and want of sleep.
"O Evan! my faithful but foolish fellow, what is this you have done?
Did you really strip yourself for me, and pass the night thus exposed?"
exclaimed Ronald, his heart overflowing with tumultuous feelings at the
kindness of his humble follower and old friend.
"I thocht ye would be cauld, sir," replied Evan, his teeth chattering
while he spoke, "and my heart bled to see ye lying there like a beast o'
the field on the dreary muir, in siccan a miserable and eerie nicht.
For me it mattered naething,--for neither my name nor bluid are gentle.
I'm the son of your father's vassal, and, Maister Ronald, I did but my
duty,--what my puir auld faither would hae wished me to do."
"See that you never again subject yourself to such a privation on my
account; and Heaven knows, Evan, I will not forget your kindness," said
Ronald, laying his hand familiarly on the tufted wing which adorned
Iverach's shoulder. "You appear to be perishing with cold, and my
canteen is empty. See if your comrade, Angus Mackie, or any one, will
give you a drop of something to warm you. Where is the colonel? I do
not see him."
"Lying yonder, on the bieldy side of his horse."
"And Mr. Macdonald--"
"Is sleeping by the bieldy side of the major, and a burn of water rinnin
round them. Och, sirs! it's awfu' wark this for gentlemen's sons."
"Rouse, Alister!" said Ronald, stirring him with his sword; "we shall
get under arms immediately. I see, through the mist yonder, that Howard
is preparing to mount." He shaded the rays of the sun from his eyes
with his hand, and perceived at some distance the brigadier, with his
tall cocked-hat and large military cloak, examining the girths of his
saddle and the holsters, while he despatched the brigade-major to the
officers commanding regiments. The long roll of several drums, sounding
dull and muffled with the rain, immediately followed, rousing the
bivouac; and the troops "stood to their arms," preparatory to moving
off, all draggled and wet, and with empty stomachs, in the direction of
the enemy, who were to be driven from Merida at the point of the
bayonet.
The women and camp-followers were sent off to the rear, where the
baggage-mules were halted on the La Nava road; the wet cloaks and
blankets were rolled up for the march, the officers slinging theirs in
their sashes of crimson silk, while those of the soldiers were strapped
to their knapsacks.
"Uncase the colours, gentlemen. Examine your flints," cried Cameron,
touching his bonnet to the officers, as he rode along the front of the
line.
In a few minutes the troops moved off in close column, with the light
cavalry on their flanks; and making a circuit about the plain, advanced
upon Merida, skirting the cork wood through which the French had retired
on the preceding evening. Ronald scanned the plain with an earnest eye
in search of the two dead men, the slaughter of whom had haunted his
mind during the whole of the last night; and the reader may conceive the
disgust which he and others experienced, when, on the spot where they
had fallen, the scattered bones of two skeletons were discovered, red
and raw as they had been left by wild animals, which had been busy upon
them the live-long night. Yesterday they were active young soldiers,
animated probably with spirit, courage, and many a noble
sentiment,--to-day they were bare skeletons, left to bleach unburied on
the plain, as the troops had no time to inter them. The old campaigners
faced them with comparative indifference; but there was altogether
something rather appalling to so young a soldier as Ronald in the lesson
of war and mortality before him, and gloomy feelings, which he
endeavoured to shake off, took possession of his mind. But it was not a
time to appear depressed when there was a chance of hearing shot
whizzing in an hour or so more, and his spirits rose as the six
regimental pipers, with their major Macdonuil-dhu in their front, struck
up a well-known Scottish quick-step, and all pressed forward in hopes of
driving the enemy from their post, and obtaining a meal there.
During a march of several miles they saw but little of the boasted
fruitfulness of Spain. The soil appeared rich enough in some parts, but
it lay untended and untilled, for the roll of the drum and the glitter
of arms had scared away the husbandman and vine-dresser, making the once
peaceful peasantry either prowling plunderers, or fierce and savage
guerillas, turning the plough-share into a sword, and a fertile country
into a neglected wilderness.
As the wood of La Nava lessened in the rear, the city of Merida,
situated on a high hill, around the base of which the Guadiana wandered
amid groves of cork-wood, laurel, and olive, presented itself to view.
Merida, one of the most ancient cities in Spain, was once the capital of
a province of the same name, and numerous are the remains of Roman and
Gothic grandeur which are preserved within the circle of its mouldering
fortifications.
Dombrouski, a brave soldier of fortune in the service of France,
commanded the enemy, and he had put the town in the best possible state
of defence by raising a few redoubts on the granite hill beside the
city. He barricadoed the streets with the furniture of the citizens,
and all that the soldiers could lay hands on for the purpose; the
suburban houses and walls were loop-holed, and the Pole was determined
to defend his post, if a force came against it for which he deemed
himself a match; but when the waving colours and polished arms of Sir
Howland Hill's division, sixteen thousand strong, appeared descending
the gentle slope towards the city, he saw the folly of his resolution,
and prepared to abandon his position. On the nearer approach of the
British, they beheld the corps of Dombrouski formed outside the town,
preparatory to moving off by the ancient Roman bridge, the lofty arches
of which span the deep waters of the Guadiana. On a front movement
being made among our cavalry, the French, not wishing to feel the steel
of those who had so lately gained the battle of Arroya-del-Molino,
retreated double quick, without firing a shot; and in a short time the
glitter of their appointments and the flashing tops of their glazed
shakoes disappeared among the olive-groves and broken ground in the
direction of the town of Almendralejo, where a strong party lay,
commanded by the Count D'Erlon. The division halted, and bivouacked
about Merida, to which those inhabitants who had fled during its
occupation by Dombrouski returned: the streets were filled with
acclamations of welcome to the British, and the bells rang merrily from
the steeples of the churches and convents. A small ration was now
served out to the half-famished soldiers, and thousands of fires were
lit in every direction; while all the camp-kettles and pans were put in
requisition for cooking, and the axes, saws, and bill-hooks of the
pioneers made devastation among the underwood and wild groves to procure
fuel.
The miserable ration consisted of a few ounces of flour and flesh, given
to each man alike, without distinction. The flesh was that of ill-fed,
jaded, and wearied bullocks, which had become too old for agricultural
labour, driven up rapidly after the army. Those given to each regiment
were instantly shot through the head, flayed, and in a twinkling served
out in the allotted quantities, which were placed warm in the
camp-kettles to boil, almost before the circulation of the blood, or the
vibration of the fibres had ceased.
This was the usual way in which the military rations were served out in
Spain,--killed and eaten when the animals were in a state of fever from
long and hasty journeys, tough and hard as bend leather, in consequence
of age, ill-feeding, and want of proper cooking.
More lucky than thousands of their comrades, who pursued their culinary
operations in the open air, Ronald and Alister Macdonald obtained
possession of a deserted shed or house in the suburbs, where Evan
Iverach, casting aside his accoutrements, began to prepare in the best
manner he could the poor meal, for which, however, the appetites of all
were sufficiently sharpened, for they had not broken their fast since
they quitted Albuquerque.
The wretched apartment had neither windows nor shutters to boast of; and
the arms of leafless vines straggled in at the apertures, through which,
now and then, the swarthy face of a passing Spaniard appeared, looking
in with evident curiosity. Strong black rafters crossed by red tiles,
the joints of which admitted the daylight, composed the roof; the floor
was earth pounded hard by means of a pavier's rammer, or some such
instrument. As the room had no fire-place, Evan made one by means of
two stones placed in the centre of the floor; between them was kindled a
fire with one of the doors, which Ronald had torn down, and hewn in
pieces with his sword.
The smoke filled the place, and rolled in volumes out at every aperture.
A large stone and Evan's knapsack set on end composed their furniture,
and, seated thus, they set about the discussion of their meal, which
when cooked was but a sorry mess, being merely the tough flesh boiled
with the flour, without the aid of a single vegetable,--tasteless and
insipid; but hunger is said to be "the best sauce," and they dispatched
it with infinite relish. Each had produced his knife, fork, and spoon
from his havresack, a strong bag of coarse linen, in which provisions
are carried on service, and their dinner-set was complete.
"Hech me, sirs! I would rather sup sourcrowdy at the ingle neuk o' auld
Lochisla, than chow sic fushionless trash as this," said Evan with
strong contempt, as he sat squatted on the floor, taking his share of
the provision out of a camp-kettle lid, and scarcely seen amid the
smoke. "It micht pass muster wi' a puir chield like me; but I trow it's
no for sic as you, Maister Ronald, or you, Maister Macdonald, or ony
gentleman o' that ilk."
"It is confounded stuff, certainly," replied Alister, laughing at the
young Highlander's quaint mode of expression; "the flesh is as tough as
a buff belt, and the old bull it belonged to has seen hard service, no
doubt, in his day. But I wish that we had a drop of the purple Lisbon
wine to wash it down with, eh, Ronald?"
"We are better off than our Portuguese comrades, however bad our present
fare; they, poor fellows, have only received a few ounces of wheat each
man."
"And an unco chappin' they are making by the water-side, sir, ilka man
pounding his wheat between twa stanes, into something to mak' bannocks
wi'. Puir black-avised deevils! I pity them muckle," observed Evan,
who, from many circumstances combined, presumed to break the laws of
military etiquette, and mingle in the conversation. "It's an unco thing
to march far wi' an empty wame and fecht fasting. It makes my very
heart loup like a laverock, when I think o' the braw Scots' brochan and
kail, that the miserable folk here ken naething aboot. O, it's a puir
hole this Spain, I think, either to fecht or forage in."
"If you grumble thus, Evan, I shall be led to suppose you will make but
a poor soldier. We have seen little of Spain yet; the best part of the
country and the summer are still before us, and let us hope that this is
the worst. But there is little pleasure in abiding in this wretched
sheiling, where we are almost choked and blinded with smoke. Let us
find out some wine-house, where we can get something to gargle our
throats with. Come, Macdonald, we shall be smoked like deer's hams, if
we sit here longer. There are the ruins of the Roman amphitheatre, and
other things in this city of Merida, which I would wish to see, and our
time is short; we march again in the morning, as you know."
On passing down the principal street, their attention was attracted by
the ruins of a noble triumphal arch, (a relic of the Roman power,) under
which lay mouldering fragments of the rich cornice and marble statues
that had fallen from above. Near the arch stood two tall Corinthian
columns upwards of forty feet in height, the last remnants of some
magnificent temple.
The houses were lofty, and decorated with heavy entablatures, pilasters,
and ornaments of stucco or plaster, some of them richly gilt, and many
had broad balconies of stone or iron projecting over the pavement. On
some of them appeared dark-haired and dark-eyed Senoritas, wearing the
long sweeping veil and graceful black mantilla, of which so much has
been said by romancers, surveying with smiles of wonder and pleasure,
the strange scene of so many foreign uniforms crowding the streets, and
waving their fans and handkerchiefs, crying to the British officers who
passed them, "_Viva! la valiante Inglesa! viva!_"
"What beautiful eyes, and splendid figures these girls have!" said
Macdonald rapturously, doffing his bonnet to a group of fair ones, whose
attention their Highland garb had attracted. "By Heaven! we have no
such eyes at home. How they flash under their long lashes! I never
beheld such glossy curls as those that stream from under their veils."
"I have, Alister," was Ronald's brief reply.
"Ay, in her whose miniature you wear under the fold of your
shoulder-belt: I saw it for an instant the other day at Albuquerque.
Nay, nay, man, you need not colour or look so cross; I shall not tell
any of our fellows, and we have no mess here to try your fiery temper by
jokes and quizzing. But keep it in a more secure place; should it be
seen by Grant or Bevan, or any of them, it may become the source of
continual jesting."
"Those who dare to jest with me on such a subject, may find it dangerous
work," said Ronald coldly and haughtily. "But here is the place we have
been looking for,--the _Caza de Vino_."
A bunch of gilded grapes, suspended over the door of a low flat-roofed
building, announced it to be the shop of a retailer of wine. The
door-way was crowded by British, Portuguese, and German officers, who
were pressing their way in and out, intermixed with a few cigar-smoking
citizens, wearing broad sombreros and the eternal long Spanish cloak,
enveloping their whole form in a manner not ungraceful, but in the style
of mysterious gentry on the stage, rendering it impossible to discover
their rank in society; in fact, all the Spaniards they beheld were
exactly like one another. All smoked cigars with the same air of
immovable gravity; all wore the same sombre attire, and strode under the
piazzas of the Plaza with the same haughty swagger. To stroll about
smoking by day, and to sit listlessly at night muffled in their mantles,
with their feet resting on a pan of hot charcoal while they sipped their
sour wine, appeared to be their only employment.
Ronald and his friend made their way into a spacious oblong apartment,
fitted up in the plainest manner with rough deal seats and tables, at
which sat many of the officers of the second division,--the red, or
rather purple coats of the British, the blue of the Portuguese, the
green of the German Rifles, and the brown of a few Spaniards, being
intermingled. Several olive-cheeked young girls, with their long black
hair streaming unbound, wearing short petticoats, large bustles, and
high-heeled shoes, were continually tripping about, and serving the
country wine in all kinds of vessels, from which it was rapidly
transferred to the throats of the thirsty carousers; and a strange din
of several languages and many sonorous voices, shook the rafters of the
place.
"A devil of a den this! Let us quit it as soon as possible," said
Macdonald, draining his horn of dark liquor.
"As soon as you please. I am almost stifled with the fumes of garlick
from the Portuguese, and tobacco from the Germans. Look at old Blacier
of the 60th Rifles, how quietly he sits in that corner, filling the
whole place with the smoke of his long pipe."
"Looking as grave as his Serene mightiness of Hesse Humbug. But I do
not see any of ours here?"
"There's Campbell, sitting beside Armstrong of the 71st; doubtless he is
fighting some battle in Egypt over again. He speaks so earnestly, that
he is not aware of our presence,--and yonder is Chisholm."
"Stuart," exclaimed Alister, abruptly, "who can that strange fellow be
who seems to scrutinize you so narrowly. See, behind the chair of
Blacier, in the dark recess of the doorway."
Ronald looked in the direction pointed out, and beheld the fierce
serpent-like eyes of a well-known face fixed on him with a settled
stare.
"It is the rascal Narvaez," whispered Ronald, making a stride towards
the place; but the worthy, pulling his sombrero over his face, pressed
through the crowd, gained the door, and disappeared.
"Pshaw! let him go," said Alister, holding Ronald back by his silk sash.
"You surely would not follow him? You are neither an alcalde or an
alguazil, and you need not care how many he sends to the shades. He
eyes you with a look that bodes you no good, and the revengeful
disposition of these swarthy gentlemen is well known. I would advise you
to be on your guard; perhaps he is dogging you for your squabble at
Albuquerque."
"If ever I meet the vagabond on a hill side," replied Ronald angrily, "I
will teach him to model his face differently, when he dares to look at
me."
"Ay; but 'tis not decently on the hill side that disputes are settled
here. A stab in the dark, or a shot from behind a hedge ends matters,
and all is over," answered Macdonald, as they issued into the street,
after settling with the _patron_. "And now, before it is quite dark,
let us take a view of the amphitheatre. I see its ruins above the
flat-roofed houses at the end of the street yonder, and a bold outline
it rears against the clear sky of the evening."
*CHAPTER VIII.*
*AN ADVENTURE.*
"The troops exulting sat in order round,
And beaming fires illumin'd all the ground:
A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild,
And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field.
Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,
Whose umber'd arms by fits thick flashes send;
Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn,
And ardent warriors wait the rising morn."
_Iliad_, book viii.
It was almost dusk when they entered the vast and gloomy ruins of the
amphitheatre, the appearance of which was rendered doubly impressive by
the sombre light in which it was viewed. The broad arena, where once
the bold gladiator contended for honour, or the wretched malefactor for
his life, straining every desperate energy in battle with the fiercest
animals of the wilderness, was now overgrown with grass, as were also
the wide circles of seats rising from it; and from the arcades of
arches, from the mouldered cornices, the shattered columns, and empty
niches, waved weeds and nettles, showing how vain was the pride of the
founder and the architect, and telling that time was too powerful for
the mightiest work of human hands,--that man's labours, like himself,
are perishable.
In some places great masses of masonry had fallen down, where the clamps
of iron and brass had mouldered away, and ponderous architraves and
fragments of friezes, bearing ornaments and Roman inscriptions, were
lying in the centre of the arena, half buried in the soil. All was
silence and ruinous desolation now in the place where once the
beautiful, the brave, and the noble, had witnessed and applauded
soul-stirring deeds of martial prowess, manly strength, and unequalled
cruelty and ferocity. Its vast arcades and empty galleries rang no more
with the flourish of the trumpet, the clash of cymbals, the shout which
greeted the triumphant victor in the lists, the yell or the dying groan
of his vanquished opponent.
From the grass-covered arena, around which appeared the dark dens where
lions, tigers, and other savage animals had been confined, Ronald and
his friend clambered up the stone seats, which rose one above another
like a flight of broad steps, until they gained the uppermost corridor
or gallery, which ran round the whole fabric on the outside. From this
eminence they obtained a view of the scenery below and around them.
Night had now set in, and darkness reigned in the streets of Merida.
Towering above the low roofs appeared the other remains of Roman
greatness,--the noble arch which had rung so often to the tread of their
martial legions, and the shattered temple where marble gods had received
the fervent adoration of idolaters.
A thousand watch-fires cast their lurid glare on the silent waters of
the Guadiana, on the dark groves of olive overhanging its glassy
surface, on the lofty outline of the Roman bridge, and on the black
buildings of the adjacent town, from the bivouac of Sir Rowland's
division. The piles of burnished arms glittered in the light, which was
reflected by the bayonets of the sentries at the river side, and by the
sabres of the far-off cavalry videttes, and of the advanced picquets on
its opposite side, keeping watch and ward on the road to Almendralejo.
A low hum of many mingled voices rose from the place where the soldiers
lay, mingled with the occasional neigh of a horse, the sharper sound of
the cavalry trumpet turning out the picquets, or the roll of a distant
infantry drum recalling stragglers echoing among the granite crags, and
dying away in the thickets by the water side; and nearer rang the more
discordant noise of laughter and reckless military merriment from the
wine-house in the neighbouring street.
"Yonder is the evening star glimmering above the summit of the dark
mountain to the southward of us," observed Ronald in a low tone; "it
rises twinkling just as I have seen it rising above the noble Benmore in
Perthshire; and while I view its well-known appearance my heart fills
with strange emotions. I can almost fancy myself at home in the
Highlands,--at home in my father's house."
"I am animated by similar feelings," replied Macdonald in the same
subdued voice. "Many that love us dearly may at this moment be watching
it, and thinking of us. Many a summer gloaming, in my dismal moods, I
have watched it rising amid the white breakers, and shining above the
ruined spire of Iona, while the empty arches of the cathedral were
illumined with the red flush of the setting sun. Ah, Stuart! I know
these places well: my father dwells in Inch-kenneth, in the wild and
surf-beaten western isles. It is a sweet little place the Inch, with
dark foliage hanging from the tall rocks over the boiling ocean. These
ruins around us are all very well in their way, but I would not give the
Runic cross and the Culdee's cell, which cover the graves of my
ancestors, even for all the ruins of Rome! But let us not begin to muse
thus: I shall become too melancholy to feel agreeable. We must retrace
our steps to the bivouac, for both fighting and hard marching are before
us in the morning, over the hills yonder," said he, pointing in the
direction of Almendralejo, where a faint crimson streak illumined the
dark sky, caused probably by the watch-fires of D'Erlon's troops.
"What! do you think of returning to the den where we cooked our splendid
repast?"
"We should be eaten up by rats and the Spanish musquitoes before
morning; better the bivouac where our comrades stretch their bare legs
on the cold sod. Fassifern would ill like us seeking even the shelter
of a kennel, while he sleeps as usual under the heels of his horse, with
the pommel of his saddle for a pillow."
"You speak of a kennel; I assure you, Macdonald, that last night I
envied the old barrel in which our household dog at Lochisla takes his
repose in the barbican. But we shall lose ourselves here, the streets
are so dark and strange." As he spoke they had quitted the ruins of the
amphitheatre, and entered a dark and silent street leading towards the
Plaza. It was empty, and its stillness was broken only by the ripple of
the Guadiana, chafing against the stone quay at one end, past which its
broad and rapid current flowed unceasingly.