AFTER THE VICTORY.
Never before had a more brilliant victory been gained by troops
numerically so weak, and under conditions apparently so unfavourable.
The Mexican array evacuated Hermosillo in the utmost disorder,
abandoning three hundred dead and wounded, baggage of every description,
guns, ammunition, and flags. The rout was complete.
General Guerrero, shame on his brow and rage in his heart, fled at full
speed along the Ures road, pursued closely by the French cavalry. The
count had made a large number of prisoners, among whom were several
Mexican officers.
The joy of the adventurers bordered on madness. Still the brilliant
advantages had not been gained without a sensible loss, regard being had
to the numerical strength of the army. It had lost twenty-two men--an
enormous amount, which evidenced the obstinacy of the fight, and the
courage with which the Mexicans had fought. Among the dead the count had
to regret several of his best-beloved officers, brave young fellows, who
had fallen at the head of their sections while urging their men on.
The count, although his clothes were riddled with bullets, had not
received a scratch: it seemed as if a charm protected him, for no one
had spared his life less than himself during the fight. He had ever been
in the thickest of the action, in advance of his comrades, encouraging
them by word and deed, and only employing his sabre to ward off blows
that came too near him.
So soon as the battle was over the count proceeded to the Cabildo,
whither the Mexican authorities were convened, in order to settle with
him as to the safety of the city. Don Cornelio had not left him during
the fight: he had done his duty bravely by his side.
"Don Cornelio," he said to him, "I am pleased with you; you behaved most
bravely. I wish to reward you by intrusting to you a mission of the
highest importance. Are you too tired to get on horseback?"
"No, señor conde. Besides, you know that I am a thorough _jinete_."
"That is true. Here are two letters, one for Don Rafaël, which you will
deliver in passing the Hacienda del Milagro: when you get in sight of La
Magdalena you will tear the envelope off the other, and carry it to the
address you will read on it; but in the event of your being stopped or
taken prisoner on the road, that letter must not be found on you, and no
one must know its contents. You understand me?"
"Perfectly, señor conde, and if necessary it shall be destroyed."
"Very good. Now get a fresh horse and start without the loss of a
moment: it is a question of life and death."
"I start, Don Louis; you will hear of me again."
These words were accompanied by a sinister smile, which passed unnoticed
by the count. Don Cornelio left the room, and five minutes later his
horse's hoofs could be heard echoing on the pavement.
At this moment Valentine entered. The hunter's features, usually so
calm, were convulsed, and he seemed suffering from extreme agitation. He
looked around him on entering.
"What are you looking for?" the count asked him; "and what is the
meaning of the state in which I see you?"
"It means----" Valentine answered. "But stay, better so. Take a glance
at these papers which I seized in the house of General Guerrero."
He handed the count a bundle of letters and other papers, which the
other rapidly read through.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, stamping his foot passionately, "such great
ingratitude after so many acts of kindness! A thousand devils! this land
is, then, accursed, that treason should spring up under every blade of
grass."
"Fortunately we have the proofs to hand. I will take on myself to arrest
the villain."
"It is too late."
"How too late?" the hunter exclaimed. "Where is he, then?"
"He has set out on a mission of the highest importance, which I
intrusted to him for the leaders of the malcontents."
"Confusion!" the hunter said; "what is to be done? It is plain that the
scoundrel will sell our secrets to the enemy."
"Wait. I gave him a letter for Don Rafaël, which he cannot fail to
deliver."
"That is true: if only to lull suspicion to sleep, he will do so. I will
be off to the hacienda at once."
"Go, my friend: unfortunately I cannot accompany you."
"It is unnecessary. I swear that if this devil's own Don Cornelio falls
into my hands, I will crush him like the viper he is. Good-by."
The hunter hurriedly left the Cabildo, and a few minutes later, followed
by Belhumeur, Black Elk, Curumilla, and Eagle-head, he was galloping at
full speed along the road to the hacienda.
The count then occupied himself, before taking a moment's rest, in
organising the tranquillity and security of the city. As most of the
Mexican authorities had taken flight, he appointed others, had the dead
buried, and arranged an hospital for the sick, the direction of which he
gave to Father Seraphin, whose evangelic devotion was beyond all praise.
Posts and main guards were established, and patrols received orders
to march about the city in order to maintain tranquillity--a useless
measure of precaution, for the inhabitants appeared as joyful as the
French. The streets were hung with flags, and on all sides could be
heard shouts of "Long live France! long live Sonora!" repeated with an
expression of indescribable satisfaction.
When the count had discharged these imperious duties, his mind being no
longer over-excited by the necessity of the moment, nature, conquered
for an instant, gained the upper hand with an extreme of reaction, and
Don Louis fell back almost fainting into the chair where he had been
working without relaxation for nearly eight hours. He remained thus
without help until a late hour of the night, for he had not the strength
to call for assistance.
At length Captain de Laville entered to make his chief a report about
the result of the pursuit of the Mexicans. He was terrified at the state
in which he found Don Louis; for the count was suffering from a violent
fever, attended by delirium. The captain immediately summoned the
company's surgeon, and the count was laid in a hastily-prepared bed.
The surgeon could not be found, and a Mexican doctor came in his stead.
This man declared that the count was suffering from an attack of
dysentery, and made him drink a potion which he prepared at once. The
count fell into a species of lethargic sleep which lasted ten hours.
Fortunately the company's surgeon at length arrived. After a glance at
the count, and examining the few drops of the potion left in the glass,
the doctor immediately had eggs beaten in milk administered to the
count, and ordered all his limbs to be rubbed with hot napkins.
"Why, doctor," the captain remarked to him, "what sort of treatment is
this? The physician assured me that the count had the dysentery."
The doctor smiled sorrowfully.
"Yes," he said, "he has a dysentery; but do you know what the physician
gave him?"
"No."
"Belladonna; that is to say, poison."
"Oh!" the captain said in horror.
"Silence!" the surgeon continued. "Let this remain a secret between us
two."
At this moment the physician entered. He was a plump little man, with
the look of a frightened cat. The captain seized him by the collar, and
dragged him into a corner of the room.
"Look here!" he said to him, pointing to the glass the surgeon still
held in his hand. "Of what was that potion composed you gave the count?"
The Mexican turned pale.
"Why?" he stammered.
"Poison, you villain!" the captain shouted violently.
"Poison!" he exclaimed, raising his eyes and arms to heaven. "Could it
be possible? Oh, let us see!"
He examined the glass with feigned attention.
"It is true," he said after a moment. "_Por Dios,_ what inadvertence!"
The word appeared so precious to the Frenchmen that, in spite of their
anger and alarm, they could not prevent it, but burst into a loud laugh.
The little doctor took advantage of this attack of gaiety to escape very
quietly, and could never be found again, though carefully sought for: he
had probably left the city.
Thanks to the intelligent and affectionate care of the surgeon, however,
the effects of the poison were neutralised. The count felt a little
better, and gave orders that the company should assemble at once in the
patio of the Cabildo. The command was rapidly obeyed, and within an hour
the company was drawn up under arms in the courtyard. The count came
down, leaning on the arm of Captain de Laville.
"My comrades," he said, "I am ill, as you can see. Still I have called
you together to inform you of an engagement I have made in your name
with the inhabitants of Hermosillo. I declared that even if you walked
over piles of piastres and ounces, you would not stoop down to pick them
up. Was I wrong?"
"No," they all exclaimed; "you were quite right."
"We are no pirates, whatever they may say," the count continued, "and
the hour has arrived to prove it."
"We will do so."
"Thank you, comrades."
The company was dismissed, and carefully kept its promise: not a
waist-buckle was stolen by these half-naked men, who for four months had
been suffering the most horrible privations.
The count's condition, however, instead of becoming better, grew worse
daily, in spite of the anxious attentions of the doctor and Father
Seraphin, who had posted himself by his bed, and never left him. In Don
Louis the mind wore out the body. Since Don Cornelio's departure he had
received no news either of the Spaniard or Valentine. Two faithful men,
sent to the Hacienda del Milagro, had not returned, and neither Don
Rafaël nor Doña Angela gave a sign of life.
This silence became incomprehensible. On the other hand, the situation
of the company was growing daily more serious. The count, master of a
powerful city, found himself more isolated than before; the pueblos that
should have risen did not stir; the man to whom the count had written,
and who had pledged himself to give the signal for revolt, gave no
reply to the appeal, and remained indifferent to the repeated entreaties
Don Louis made him.
Unfortunately dysentery is one of those frightful diseases which
completely annihilate a man's faculties, and for a very long period
the count was incapable of attending to anything. Señor Pavo had come
at full speed from Guaymas to Hermosillo, ostensibly to felicitate the
count on his gallant exploit, but in reality to be able to betray him
with greater facility.
Don Louis was alone, without friends in whom he could trust, lying
on a bed of pain, internally devoured by a mortal restlessness, and
a prey to a profound despair at seeing himself reduced to a state of
powerlessness, and losing the fruits of his toil and fatigues.
Captain de Laville, the only man in whom he could have trusted at the
moment, was attacked by the same illness as his chief, and, like him,
was incapable of acting. Señor Pavo skilfully profited by this state
of affairs to sow seeds of disaffection among the Frenchmen. The count
was the soul of the company--the only tie that rendered it compact and
united: in his absence from his duties all went wrong.
A system was then organised in the shade by Don Pavo. This system
consisted in continual demonstrations on the part of the adventurers,
who at every hour of the day came one after the other to lay before
the count the most absurd grievances, and threaten to leave him. At
last matters reached such a pitch that it was necessary to come to some
decision.
Two courses offered themselves: the first, to give up the results of the
victory of Hermosillo, and retreat on Guaymas. This was suggested to
the count by the French representative, Señor Don Antonio Mendez Pavo.
The second was to await at Hermosillo, while holding their ground by
force and risking a siege, the succours which must speedily arrive from
California, where they were being rapidly organised. So greatly had the
news of the brilliant victory gained by the count electrified the minds
of the adventurers, and inflamed their imagination.
These two courses were equally repugnant to the count. The first seemed
to him shameful; the second impracticable. Still the situation was
growing every day more and more intolerable, when at this moment a
strange event occurred, which, had we been writing a romance instead of
a history, would have seemed to us too startling for credibility.
The company, incessantly excited by the hypocritical pity of Señor
Pavo, and the dark intrigues he set at work, had fallen into a state
of perfect insubordination towards the count, and almost open revolt.
Seeing that Don Louis was too ill to act vigorously, and incapable of
opposing anything they pleased to do, the men let him know that, unless
he consented to give the order for retreat, they would leave Hermosillo
and abandon him.
The count was forced to yield. General Guerrero had pledged his word
that the retreat should not be disquieted, Don Louis succeeded in
obtaining hostages who responded for the safety of the sick he was
compelled to leave behind, and with a breaking heart, no strength or
courage left, he was borne away in a litter. A reaction took place
among the volunteers at the sight of their well-beloved chief, reduced
to this miserable state, and almost dead of sorrow. They pressed round
him, swearing obedience and fidelity, and promising him to fall to the
last man for him. A melancholy smile played round the pallid lips of
the dying man, for these proofs of devotion came too late. The count,
crushed by a succession of insults, had drunk the cup to the dregs: he
no longer put faith in his comrades.
The retreat commenced. In spite of the general's solemn pledge, it was
an uninterrupted succession of skirmishes; but a final ray of glory
was reflected on the French. The adventurers, aroused by the smell of
powder, found all their courage once more to victoriously repulse the
attacks of the Mexicans, whom they compelled to retreat pitiably, and
give up any further annoyances.
The company camped about three leagues from Guaymas, resolved to force
a passage, and enter that port the next day in spite of any opposition.
The count, slightly revived by the prospect of an approaching combat,
had fallen asleep after making all his preparations, when toward
midnight he was aroused by the arrival of a flag of truce.
The envoys were Señor Pavo and a merchant of Guaymas, who came on behalf
of General Guerrero. They were bearers of an armistice for forty-eight
hours; and a letter from the general, who earnestly begged the count to
come to him in order to arrange the terms of peace.
"I consent to the armistice," the count replied. "Let the general send
me an escort, and I will go to him."
His companions objected.
"Why not take your cavalry?" one of them said to him.
"For what use?" he said with discouragement. "I am the only person they
care for: if a trap is set for me, I will fall into it alone."
The adventurers insisted, but he remained inflexible.
"We no longer understand one another," he said to them.
Then he turned to the negotiators.
"Return to Guaymas, gentlemen, and be good enough to tell General
Guerrero that I thank him, and am awaiting his escort."
The escort arrived at daybreak, and the count set out, after a last and
melancholy glance at his comrades, who witnessed his departure with
aching hearts and tears in their eyes. Henceforth the divorce between
the count and the adventurers was accomplished.
General Guerrero, on the count's entrance to Guaymas, ordered the
honours due to a commander-in-chief to be paid him. Don Louis smiled
with disdain. What did he care for these empty ceremonies?
The count and the general had a lengthened conversation together. The
general had not yet given up his projects of seduction; but this time,
like the first, the count answered with a positive refusal.
The company was henceforth surrendered defencelessly to the machinations
of Señor Pavo. This man lost no time, and by his advice the adventurers
sent as a deputation to the count two ignorant sailors, with orders to
come to a settlement with him at any price. These two emissaries were
selected by Señor Pavo, for the worthy man knew perfectly well what he
was about. The two sailors presented themselves at the count's house,
who sent out a message to them that he was engaged at the moment, and
begged them to wait a little while. The ambassadors, ruffled in their
self-esteem, and puffed up with the importance of the mission intrusted
to them, left the count's house immediately, swearing at his insolence,
and went straight to the palace of General Guerrero.
The latter, advised beforehand, knew what would happen, and was
impatiently awaiting them. He ordered them to be admitted at once so
soon as they sent in their names, and received them most graciously:
then, when he had sufficiently intoxicated them with flattery, he made
them sign--that is to say, make a cross at the foot of--a treaty, in
which they recognised that, having been _deceived and abandoned in
a cowardly manner_ by their chief, they pledged themselves to lay
down their arms and quit the country for a sum of _eleven thousand
piastres_.[1] We must confess that General Guerrero made a capital
bargain, for the arms came into his possession. Oh! the Mexicans are
famous negotiators, and, above all, most crafty diplomatists.
Unable to vanquish the company, the Mexicans bought it of two
scoundrels, by the intervention of a third, whose duty it was to defend
it.
Thus the Atrevida Company had committed suicide. It effected its own
dissolution without even attempting to see once again that chief who had
been its idol, and whom it abandoned writhing on a bed of suffering.
We must mention, to the honour of the French plenipotentiaries that, in
the treaty they signed, the liberty of the count was formally guaranteed.
Now let us see by what extraordinary concourse of circumstances the
count, when in such a critical position, was thus abandoned by all his
friends. How was it that General Guerrero, his obstinate foe, had shown
himself so kind and almost generous toward Don Louis during the last
events we have narrated?
We will proceed to explain this; but, in order to do so, we must take up
events further back, and return to Valentine and his comrades, whom we
left galloping at full speed along the road to the hacienda.
[1] A little over £2000.