English horse. Ronald, by some particular spots, recognised it to be
that of Eveleyn's charger, about the flaying of which the host had been
employed since day-break, intending as he said to make it into caps and
shoes for his children. The latter were all swarthy and active, but
sadly disguised by rags and filth, which obscured the natural beauty of
their Spanish faces and figures, excepting one little girl, about ten
years of age, who appeared to be her mother's pet, and consequently was
more neatly dressed. Ronald was often amused at the looks of wonder
with which this little creature watched him while eating--keeping at a
distance as if he was an ogre; but when she became more familiar,
venturing to touch the black feathers of his bonnet and other parts of
his glittering dress, though always keeping close to the short skirt of
the madre's petticoat, as if she feared being eaten up, or carried off
for some future meal, by the strange caballero, the richness of whose
uniform filled the little boys with wonder and envy.
At last, by dint of much entreaty, she permitted herself to be drawn
towards him. Raising up her radiant eyes, she took a copper crucifix
from her bosom, and asked him if the people in his country wore a thing
like that. On his telling her no, she broke away from his arm, and
crying, "_O mi madre_,--the heretic! the devil!" hid her face in her
mother's skirt; while the rest of the children shrunk around their
father, grasping his legs for safety, and even _he_ seemed much
discomposed. Not liking the idea of being regarded as a bugbear, Ronald,
in the grey day-light, finished his breakfast as speedily as possible,
and was hurried in doing so by the warning bugles for the march.
Ranald Dhu and his six pipers blowing the gathering, in concert with the
drums of other corps beating the 'assembly,' in the Plaza, soon
followed, and he left the house of the hospitable but superstitious
potter, who would not accept a single maravedi for the entertainment he
had given,--a circumstance which Ronald did not regret, his pecuniary
affairs not being then in a very flourishing condition, as the troops
were three months pay in arrear.
When the second division approached Almendralejo, they found that it had
been abandoned by the enemy in the night. As on the march of the
preceding day, the troops suffered greatly by thirst and the intense
heat of the weather; and as the regiments passed through in succession,
the inhabitants were employed for hours handing water through their
barred windows[*] to the soldiers, while crowds in the streets were kept
running to and fro from the fountains with all sorts of vessels, as if a
general conflagration had taken place.
[*] The lower windows in Spain are all barred.
"_Viva Ferdinando! muera Napoleon!_" cried a soft voice from the balcony
of a house near, the _Casa de Ayuntamiento_, the tall spire of which is
visible for leagues around.
"Who can that handsome girl be,--she with the tight boddice and braided
hair?" asked Stuart of Alister, as the corps halted, for the usual rest
of five minutes, in front of the town-house.
"Handsome girl! How should I know, Ronald. Where?"
"Leaning over the antique stone balcony: she has tossed a chaplet among
the men at the other flank of the company."
"And one fellow has placed it on the point of his bayonet. That is the
Senora Maria I told you of."
"What! the daughter of the _abogado_?"
"The same. I used to meet her often at the Prado and at church, when we
lay here. Her true knight, Angus Mackie, has obtained the wreath, I
perceive."
"A handsome girl indeed! The flowers were intended for him, doubtless."
"And there is the _abogado_ himself," exclaimed Macdonald. "What the
devil is the old fellow about?"
While they were speaking, a fierce-looking little Spaniard, with a bald
head and large grey moustaches, wearing an old-fashioned doublet of
black cloth slashed on the breast with red, rushed into the balcony, and
grasping the young lady by the arm, drew her roughly into the house,
dashing to the casement with such violence that several panes of glass
were shattered,--a damage, which he was observed a minute afterwards to
be inspecting with a rueful countenance, glass being an expensive
article in Spain. He withdrew with a fierce aspect, as a loud laugh of
derision arose from the companies of Highlanders in the street.
To describe the wearying marches performed by the troops under Sir
Rowland Hill's command in that province of Spain, would be at once
useless and uninteresting. Scouring the country of the enemy, they had
many a march and counter-march between Merida, La Zarza, La Querena,
Medellin, and Don Benito. From the last two the enemy were driven, but
not without some fighting, especially at Don Benito. During that week
often on the march, as they traversed the lofty sierras or level plains,
they heard, mellowed by distance, the roar of the far artillery, which
announced that the strong city of Badajoz had been besieged by Lord
Wellington, by whose orders Sir Rowland's division advanced towards that
place, to form the covering army.
On the evening when it was known the fortress would be stormed, while
the greatest anxiety pervaded every breast for the success of the great
attempt, Hill's division halted and encamped near the village of Lobon
just about sunset. Making a corresponding movement to form a junction
with the second division, Sir Thomas Graham, "the hero of Barossa,"
hovered with his troops in the direction of the heights of Albuera,
ready to concentrate and repel together any attempt which the great Duke
of Dalmatia with his legions might make to relieve the beleaguered
garrison of General Phillipon at Badajoz, which was a few miles distant,
in the rear of the hamlet of Lobon.
Although the troops encamped, all were in readiness to march at a
moment's notice to sustain the besieging army, if they should fail in
carrying the place. Scarcely had they halted, before the grand guards
of cavalry were formed, and the out-picquets, to be furnished from the
first brigade, paraded and despatched to their several posts where
pointed out by the major of brigade.
With some other officers this exciting duty fell upon Ronald, who, with
a picquet of twenty Highlanders, was directed to march to a given
distance into the plain in front of Lobon, halt his party, and throw
forward his chain of advanced sentries, extending them so that they
could keep up the line of communication with those of other picquets on
the right and left, and to double them, should the weather thicken
during the night.
"By what shall I know where to halt the main body of my picquet, major?"
asked Ronald, looking rather blankly towards the waste expanse of desert
plain, which extends for more than seven leagues around Badajoz. "It is
as level as the very sea: nothing bounds it but the distant heights of
Albuera."
"March _on_ that star," said W---- technically, as he raised himself in
his stirrups, and pointed towards a bright planet which was twinkling
where the lingering streaks of yellow edged the dark horizon, glowing
like heated bars of gold through openings in the dusky masses of clouds,
which appeared to rest o'er Albuera, the position of Graham. "You will
march straight upon it, and halt your picquet where you find a man's
head stuck upon a pole."
"Upon a pole!"
"Ay. Queer mark, is it not?"
"Very. I am to halt there?"
"A dismal thing to have beside one for a whole night,--in a place as
dreary, and eerie too, as the pass of Drumouchter."
"Is it the head of a murderer?"
"Yes. His body is buried beneath it,--a common practice in this part of
the country, I believe."
"A man's head used to be quite a common mark when I was in Egypt with
Sir Ralph Abercrombie," chimed in Campbell, who had stretched himself on
the dewy grass near. "I have seen a corps of turbaned Turks, reviewed
near Alexandria, using the spiked heads of Frenchmen as we do our red
camp-colours, as points to wheel on."
"You had better take up your ground, Mr. Stuart," said the brigade
major, to cut short any intended story, "and remember carefully to make
yourself master of your situation, by examining, not only the space you
actually occupy, but the heights within musquet-shot, the roads and
paths leading to or near the post, ascertaining their breadth and
practicability for cavalry and cannon, and to ensure a ready and
constant communication with the adjoining posts and videttes,--in the
day by signals, in the night by patrols," &c.; and the old fellow did
not cease his long quotation from the "Regulations," which he had gotten
by rote, until compelled to do so by want of breath.
When he made an end, and had ridden off, Ronald marched his picquet in
the direction pointed out, keeping as a guide the star already
mentioned. He soon found the halting-place, and there, sure enough, was
a human head placed upon a pole about ten feet high; and a more grisly,
hairy, ferocious, and terrible face than it presented, human eyes never
beheld. In ferocity its expression was that of Narvaez Cifuentes, but
it was fixed and rigid,--the eyes glassy and bursting from the
sockets,--the jaws wide and open, displaying a formidable row of large
white teeth. It was much decayed by the heat of the weather, although
it had been only three days exposed; and as the breeze blew swiftly
past, it caused the long damp tresses of black hair to wave around the
livid brow with an effect at once strange and terrible.
Having posted his line of sentries to the best advantage, showing them
in what direction they were to keep a "sharp look-out,"--the direction
where Marshal Soult lay,--he returned to the spot, where, stretched upon
the turf among the rest of the soldiers, he lay listening to the distant
thunder of artillery, and watching the lurid light which filled the
horizon, continually increasing and waning as the tide of conflict
turned on the battlements of Badajoz. More vividly at times the red
light flashed across the sky, and louder at times came the boom of the
heavy cannon, as the salvoes were discharged against the walls of the
doomed city; and while the soldiers looked and listened, they thought of
the blood and slaughter in which they might soon bear a part, should the
present besiegers fail in the assault. Although at that hour
hundreds--ay, thousands, were being swept into eternity, the soldiers
cared not for it, apparently; many a tale was told at which they laughed
heartily, and many a reminiscence narrated of Bergen-op-Zoom,
Egmont-op-Zee, Mandora, Coruna, and other fields and countless frays, in
which some of them had borne a part.
It was a fine moonlight night: the most distant part of the plain could
be distinctly seen, and the myriads of stars shone joyously, as if to
rival the radiance of their queen, while every blade of grass, and every
leaf of the scattered shrubbery, so common on Spanish plains, glittered
as if edged with liquid silver. From the dark village of Lobon, and the
white glimmering tents of the encampment, arose the hum of voices; from
the plain through which wound the Guadiana, came the murmur of its
current; and save these, no sound broke the stillness of the hour but
the roar of Badajoz, which growled and sounded afar like thunder among
distant hills.
While Ronald was regaling himself upon a mess, consisting of a few
ounces of ration-beef fried in a camp-kettle lid, with a handful of
garbanzos or beans, which Evan had brought him from the adjacent
village, his attention was aroused by the glitter of steel on the plain,
advancing, as he imagined, from the direction where Soult was known to
be, and from which he was expected to make some demonstration to relieve
General Phillipon's garrison.
Ronald was instantly on the alert. He sprang to his feet,--ordered the
picquet to "stand to their arms," himself advancing a little to the
front, to reconnoitre.
Perhaps there is no situation more exciting to any officer, especially a
young one, than out-picquet duty: he is left to act entirely for
himself,--to rely on his own judgment, and so much depends upon him in
many ways, that he is apt to grow bewildered. The responsibility is
indeed great, when the very fate of a kingdom may depend on the
alertness of his sentinels, and the posts he has assigned to them.
Fully alive to all the duties of his situation, Ronald moved anxiously
to the front, and beheld a dark group advancing furiously along the
plain at full gallop, making straight for his post, with steel casques
and tall lances glittering; but that they were only six armed horsemen
he could see distinctly, and the cry of "_Amigos! amigos a la guerra de
la Independencia! Viva Espana! Viva Espana!_" in pure Castilian,
assured him that they were Spaniards; and he sprang forward just in time
to arrest the arm of his advanced sentinel, who had levelled his musquet
to fire, a circumstance which would have caused the whole encamped
division to get under arms.
Another moment, and the strangers came up, the hoofs of their panting
steeds shaking the earth, and tearing the turf as they were suddenly
reined in, while the white foam fell from their dilated nostrils. A
glance showed Ronald that they were six lances of Don Alvaro's troop,
escorting a party of Spanish ladies, who to his no small surprise were
all mounted like men, wearing wide trowsers and broad flapping
sombreros, with veils and long waving plumes. Although this mode of
riding surprised the Scot very much, it is one extremely common in some
parts of Spain. Raising his hand to his bonnet, he inquired which way
they had come?
"Ah! Don Ronald,--have you quite forgotten me, and the sad night we
spent in the diabolical cavern at La Nava?" exclaimed Pedro Gomez,
dropping the point of his lance, and causing his mettlesome steed to
curvet in a style more like unto a knight of chivalry than a serjeant of
dragoons.
"How! Pedro, my bon camarado, is this you? Why--how--which way are you
riding?"
"Commanding an escort, _senor officiale_; travelling with four ladies of
our regiment from Segura de Leon to Idanda Nova, to keep them out of
harm's way."
"And the _senoritas_--"
"_Senoritas? Pho! Somos todos hombres_," said one contemptuously in
Spanish.
"All men?" reiterated Ronald in surprise.
A burst of laughter from the fair speaker followed; and bending her face
close to his,--so close that her soft curls fell upon it, she added,
"Inesella de Truxillo. I knew not that my features were so easily
forgotten, even by the admirers of my cousin."
"Senora, how happy am I to see you here, and in safety! The ravages at
Merida led me to expect the worst. And your cousin, Donna
Catalina,--she is of course, with you?" said Ronald, looking anxiously
at the faces of the other three ladies.
"O most unfortunate Catalina!" exclaimed Inesella, beginning to weep, "I
fear she is for ever lost to us."
"How, Donna Inesella! Speak for Heaven's sake!" said Ronald, while his
heart fluttered with agitation.
"_O Juan de Dios!_ be her protection. She was carried off by the enemy,
while I escaped in consequence of the Count d'Erlon's mandate. The house
was destroyed by fire, and our miserable uncle, the poor dear old padre,
perished in it."
A deep malediction was growled by the escort, who reined their horses
back a few paces.
"The demons! and by whose order was that done?"
"Their _chef d'escadre_, the Baron de Clappourknuis, or some such name."
"He is now a prisoner in the castle of Belem; but Catalina--"
"Was torn from my arms by force. A field-officer of the French guards
carried her off across the bow of his saddle; I heard her fearful cries
as he swam his horse across the Guadiana, on the night that the British
returned and attacked Merida. I have been wandering about in several
places since then, and am anxious to reach Idanda Nova, Idanha a Velha,
or any place of safety, until all this terrible work is over. Mother of
God! look towards Badajoz! The sky seems all on fire! Alas! the poor
soldiers--"
"Has Don Alvaro heard of his sister's fate?"
"O yes, senor. Poor Alvaro! I have had sad work cheering him under the
misfortune. He is now my husband," added the graceful donna, blushing
deeply, while her usually soft voice sunk into a whisper.
"Oh, indeed! I am most happy, Donna Inesella, to hear---- But how
could you celebrate so joyous an event while so great a mystery hangs
over the fate of poor Catalina?'
"O Don Ronald! I know not," replied the young lady, confusedly. "What
a very strange question to ask."
"Pardon me, senora!"
"_Santa Maria_! I am not angry with you; but Don Alvaro is so very
impetuous, and fearing the chance of war---- But ah! senor, we must bid
you adieu if we would reach the city of Elvas before dawn, and 'tis many
good leagues from Lobon."
The other ladies, who had become impatient at the delay, now proposed to
ride on, and the arrival of the field-officer on duty, to visit the
out-picquet, put an end to the conversation. Ronald briefly pointed out
to them, to the best of his knowledge, the safest road to Elvas, and the
one by which bands of roving guerillas were least likely to be met with;
and then hurried off to his post, while the ladies and their escort
galloped in the direction of Lobon.
Ronald watched the helmets and spears of the troopers, and the waving
feathers of the ladies, as long as they were in sight; and so negligent
was he during the inspection of his picquet, that, to use a mess-room
phrase, he gained a hearty rowing from old Lieutenant-colonel Macdonald,
the senior major of his regiment, who was mighty indignant at the
absence of mind he displayed, and the general answers he gave to
questions asked of him. But it was not to be wondered at: his thoughts
were with Catalina, and his bosom was a prey to a greater degree of
anxiety and uneasiness than he had felt for a very long time. That
Catalina, the proud, the gentle, and the beautiful, should be a captive
in the hands of so unscrupulous an enemy as the French, subjected to
their insolence, and perhaps barbarity, filled him with thoughts that
stung him almost to madness; and, finding it impossible to sleep,
although the grass was soft as velvet, and the bright moon was shining
gloriously, he remained walking to and fro between the piles of arms
until daylight, watching the waning blaze of Badajoz, and listening to
the noise of the assault as the night-wind, sweeping over the plain,
brought it to his ear. Intently he watched the light; and when, towards
morning, the boom of "the red artillery" died away, he almost hoped that
the assault had failed, and that an order would arrive for the second
division to advance to support the besiegers, that he might have an
opportunity of meeting hand to hand the enemy, against whom he had
conceived a peculiar feeling of detestation; or that he might have the
desperate honour of leading a forlorn-hope, an affair, by the by, of
which he had as yet but a very slight conception. The din of war, which
had lasted the live-long night, ceased at day-break, and the flashes of
cannon and musquetry were no longer seen on the ramparts of the capital
of Estremadura, in the direction of which all eyes were anxiously
turned, although it is not distinctly visible from Lobon.
About sun-rise a British staff-officer spurred his horse furiously into
the encampment. He was covered with dust, and even blood; his plumes
were gone, and his whole appearance told of the part he had acted in the
dangers of the past night, and the speed with which he had ridden. It
was towards Ronald's picquet that he advanced.
"What news from Badajoz?" cried the latter.
"Glorious! glorious!" replied he, evidently in a fierce state of
exultation, full of wild excitement and tumult, as one might be supposed
to be who had spent such a night of accumulated horrors, while he
checked with some difficulty the headlong speed of his jaded charger.
"I have not a moment to spare: where are the quarters of General Hill?"
"Our troops have carried the place, then?"
"Again, again, and again the columns were repulsed with frightful
slaughter; but again and again the assault was renewed, fighting as we
alone can fight. Badajoz is in ruins,--but it is ours; the breaches and
ditches are filled with the dead and the dying. Phillipon, retiring to
fort San Christoval, surrendered his garrison prisoners of war this
morning at day-break, after doing all that mortal men could do!" A
cheer arose from the picquet, who crowded round.
"And our loss--"
"Four thousand killed, wounded, and missing,--rough calculation; that of
the enemy five thousand."
"Nine thousand in one night!"
"A strange trade is war, truly! but a night such as the last is an era
in a man's life-time. Sir Rowland's quarters, where are they?'
"The cottage yonder--"
"With the vine-covered chimney and broad eaves?"
"Under the chesnuts."
"Thanks. Fighting is in store for you in the neighbourhood of Truxillo;
you will know it all in good time. Adieu."
Dashing his gory rowels into the flanks of his horse, he galloped
towards the tented camp. Immediately on his reaching it, a tremendous
cheer arose among the soldiers, who came rushing from their tents and
cantonments in the village. Infantry chakoes, grenadier caps, and
Highland bonnets were tossed into the air,--caught, and tossed up again.
The regimental bands played "Rule Britannia," and other national airs;
while, amid the shouts, cheers, and rolling of drums, were heard the
pipers of the Highland regiments blowing, "There's nae folk like our ain
folk," as they paraded to and fro before the quarters of the general,
who, to increase the rejoicing, ordered an extra ration of rum to be
served out to every man on the occasion by the commissary.
*CHAPTER V.*
*THE FLAG OF TRUCE.*
"Yet, be it known, had bugles blown,
Or sign of war been seen,
Those bands, so fair together ranged,
Those hands, so frankly interchanged,
Had dyed with gore the green."
_Last Minstrel_, canto v.
About a fortnight after this, Sir Rowland Hill reviewed his division of
the army near the town of Almendralejo, so often mentioned in preceding
chapters. In the evening, a strong detachment, consisting of the first
brigade of infantry, part of the second brigade, a body of British
cavalry, artillery, and Portuguese cacadores, were selected from the
division, and marched an hour before day-break next morning, pursuing
the road to Madrid under the command of the general himself, who left
Sir William Erskine in charge of the remainder of the division, which
continued in cantonments at Almendralejo.
That some great enterprise was on foot there could be no doubt, from the
secrecy maintained by the general as to the object of the march, the
solitary places through which their route lay after leaving the Madrid
road, and the deserted places, cork woods, chesnut thickets, &c. in
which they concealed their bivouacs at night. Great excitement existed
among the troops, and many were the surmises as to what might be the
ultimate object of this sudden expedition, until it became known that to
force the pass of Miravete, and destroy certain forts erected at the
bridge of Almarez on the Tagus, were the intentions of the enterprising
leader.
On the evening of the 15th May, the troops destined for this particular
service entered the city of Truxillo, the place from which Don
Balthazzar[*] takes his title. It is, like most Spanish cities,
situated on a rocky eminence, contains about four thousand inhabitants,
a handsome Plaza, and several churches. Ronald was billeted on the very
house in which the famous conqueror of America, Pizarro, was born, and
the mouldered coat-armorial of whose noble family yet appeared over the
entrance-door. He had just finished a repast of hashed mutton and
garlic,--time had reconciled him to the latter,--and was discussing a
few jugs of _Xeres seco_ with his host, when the serjeant-major of the
Gordon Highlanders, tapping at the door with his cane, warned him to
join Captain Stuart's out-picquet as a supernumerary subaltern.
[*] The Conde is still alive. I saw his name mentioned in a French
paper some months ago.