"ESTELLA."
"I entered the service," quoth the Major, "when the Peninsular War
was at its height, and my commission was signed by the first
gentleman in Europe, then Prince Regent; truly we had queer ideas of
what constituted a gentleman in those days,
"'In my hot youth, when George III. was king.'
"I joined our first battalion in Spain, and had more than enough of
marching, fighting, and starving in the desolate province of
Estremadura, where Marshal Macdonald and General Foy never gave us a
moment to spare. I was wounded at La Nava, and at the storming of
Almarez. When I scrambled over the palisades, with my sword-arm in a
sling, I remember a voltigeur officer rushing upon me with his sabre
uplifted; but, on perceiving my wound, he lowered his weapon
gracefully in salute, and passed on to encounter another. We took
the garrison prisoners, blew up the works, and threw the guns into
the Tagus. At night, when we buried the dead, by flinging them into
their own trenches, I was shocked to perceive my generous and gallant
voltigeur among them--cold and stiff--slain by a shot in his heart,
and with his right hand still grasping the hilt of the same sabre
with which he had threatened and so chivalrously spared me. I was at
the defence of Alba, and with the covering army at Badajoz, and I
fought at Victoria, where our colonel, the gallant Cadogan, was
killed, and where we put up a statue to his memory; but so unlike
him, that I am sure if the good man ever looks at it out of Heaven,
he will never recognise himself.
"We had always hard fighting, for I belonged to the light troops; and
so far as the head was concerned in those days, I was very well
adapted for that branch of the service.
"My regiment, the Highland Light Infantry, belonged to the first
brigade of the second division of infantry (Sir Rowland Hill's), and
at the time when this little narrative opens was quartered at
Aranjuez, a small town of Toledo, about twenty miles south of Madrid,
on the left bank of the Tagus. Though we had been for some months in
quarters of refreshment on the Portuguese frontier, and had there
received several supplies of clothing, &c., from Britain, in
consequence of the rapid movements of the army, which, by turning the
positions on the Ebro and Douro, had driven back the French under
Joseph and Jourdan, making them to traverse the whole length of Spain
in one short month, and the incessant activity of the light troops,
my uniform was reduced to a mere mass of rags. My cap, a kind of
Highland bonnet, checquered, but without feathers (like that still
retained by the 71st and 74th Regiments), was worn into many holes,
and the rain came through upon my head. My epaulettes, or wings,
were reduced to black wire; my coatee, turned to purple and black,
was, like my Tartan trews, patched with cloth of every hue; my sash
had shrunk to a remnant; the pipeclay had long disappeared from my
shoulder-belt, and the sheath of my claymore was worn away until six
inches of the bare blade stuck through it And such was the general
appearance of the officers of our regiment, as, with our canvas
haversacks, our blankets and cloaks slung in our sashes, and carrying
wooden canteens, similar to those of the privates, we marched into
Aranjuez, and defiled, with pipes playing and drums beating, towards
the great summer palace of Philip II., which occupies a little island
formed by the Tagus and the Xarama, and is surrounded by the most
beautiful pleasure-grounds.
"In one hand I carried my sword, in the other a ham, which I had
picked up when overhauling a French caisson. My lieutenant had a
small wine-skin, and my ensign a round loaf under his arm; thus, we,
the officers of the 1st company, looked forward, to what we deemed,
in those hard times, a sumptuous repast, on halting in the quadrangle
of the vast and silent palace, from which Joseph and his court had
fled but a few hours before, leaving behind many a sign of their
hasty departure. Here lay Turkey carpets half torn up; there, velvet
hangings but half torn down; in one room were bales of furniture,
ornaments, and plate, packed but abandoned; in another lay the
remains of a sumptuous feast, the wine was yet in the half-emptied
glass; the fork remained in the breast of the turkey; the ashes of a
large fire yet smouldered in the vast kitchen, and in each apartment
of these long and magnificent suites, which traverse the whole palace
of Philip II., were splendid Parisian clocks, with their gilt
pendulums yet wagging under crystal shades, and all remaining in
statu quo, just as the French fugitives had left them, on the
approach of our advanced guard.
"We chose our apartment, seized utensils, and, after a bath in the
sandy Xarama to refresh us after our long and dusty march, we sat
down to a supper on my ham, the ensign's loaf, and the lieutenant's
skin of the country wine. Fresh from the royal gardens we took fruit
in abundance; for the season was summer, and the purple grape, the
golden apple, and the ruddier orange, with the ripe pomegranate, were
all to be had at arm's length from the tall, painted windows. Nor
were cigars wanting: for, when investigating the contents of a
certain press, I found several boxes, from which we supplied
ourselves, and gave the remainder to the men of our company, who were
solacing themselves in the adjacent apartments, and lounging on the
velvet sofas, down ottomans, and satin fauteuils, on which the fair
demoiselles of the usurper's court had sat but the day before.
"The quarter-guards were set; the out-pickets had been posted in the
direction of the enemy; in the palace court, our ten pipes had
sounded for the tatoo, and, wearied to excess, we lay down, some on
beds, and some on benches, but many more on the hard floor, where we
slept soundly, and heedless of the advancing, the marching, and
skirmishing of the morrow; for we light troops had always our full
share of the latter.
"I was in this luxurious state--for dry quarters, and a sound sleep
after a hearty meal, are great luxuries to the campaigner--when I was
shaken by the shoulder, and I heard the devilish voice of our
sergeant-major saying--
"'I beg your pardon, Captain ----; the first officer for duty is
required to take convalescents to the rear They march an hour before
daylight, and the adjutant sent me to warn you, sir, and say, the
piper will blow the rouse in twenty minutes.'
"He retired, having delivered his orders; and then, as a pleasant
sequel to them, I heard the rain--the heavy rain of Castile, where
every drop is the size of a walnut--pattering on the long range of
palace windows which faced the east. No man ever left a warm down
bed more unwillingly than did I the hard tiled floor of the sala. I
rolled up my cloak and blanket, slung them with my haversack and
canteen, and then groped about for a small portmanteau which
contained all my goods and gear; and, without disturbing my two
comrades to bid them 'good-bye'--for, poor fellows! after so long a
march as that of yesterday, to have done so would have been positive
inhumanity--with half-closed eyes, I hurried along, stumbling over
the sleeping soldiers, muskets, knapsacks, and broken furniture with
which the vast halls and suites of chambers were encumbered. After
losing myself for a time in that famous apartment of mirrors, where
Godoy and the Queen were wont to perform fandangos, I reached the
bridge of Toledo, as it is named from the road which crosses it; and
there I found the convalescents assembling, in the dark of a cold and
rainy morning, for daylight was yet an hour distant, and I heard the
heavy drops battering the tarred canvas covers of the wretched
caissons, wherein the sick and wounded lay. I heard the rain also
lashing on the parapets of the bridge, and raising bubbles on the
rapid stream which swept below its arches.
"There were not less than thirty waggons or bullock-cars filled by
officers alone, many of them sick, or suffering from diseases
produced by hardship and starvation; others from wounds, and the
amputation of legs and arms, by the stupid apothecaries' boys, who
composed almost wholly our medical staff in the Peninsula. In rags
and misery, almost shirtless and shoeless, they lay closely packed in
the caissons among a little straw; and one--the weakest and most
reduced--was the famous Irish assistant-surgeon, Maurice Quill, of
the 31st Regiment. I had one officer of the 1st Dragoon Guards, who,
being mad as a March hare, had an entire waggon to himself, and I
heard him bellowing like a wild bull, above the rushing rain and the
howling wind as I approached this mournful assemblage on the old
bridge of Toledo.
"I received the lists and commissariat papers, &c., in the dark, from
the brigade-major, who carried a lantern under his cloak, and, in
bidding me adieu, bade me beware of Barba Roxa, or Red-bearded
Sancho, a thief, whose exploits were then making some noise in Toledo
and La Mancha. The few soldiers who accompanied me were also
convalescents, on their way home to be discharged, and, consequently,
were barely able to carry their arms. I had a French troop horse,
captured in the scramble at Arroyo del Molino, and by my side rode
the only effective man in the detachment, my orderly dragoon; who,
for the good service he rendered me by his inborn bravery and
fidelity, I shall ever remember with gratitude, Darby Crogan, a
private of the 4th, or Royal Irish Dragoon Guards, and when I say he
was every inch a true Irish soldier, further comment is needless.
"Though we had enough and to spare of fighting, I own that it was
with no ordinary feeling of dissatisfaction I departed on this duty,
leaving my comrades to push on towards the south, to fight and win
the great battle of Vittoria, and drive the French from Spain; while
I had the foreknowledge that there was never an instance known of an
officer leaving the army, in charge of convalescents, without being
involved in the most serious quarrels with the Spanish authorities,
both civil and military. But there was no alternative for me; so,
muffling myself in my cloak, after sharing with Darby Crogan a glass
of brandy from a certain convenient flask, which hung at my
waist-belt, and after a good deal of galloping to and fro, swearing
at muleteers and bullock-drivers, the cars were put in motion, and
the march began just as the first streak of dawn glimmered dimly
above the distant sierras.
"A company of Les Chasseurs Brittaniques (who, though French
deserters and ragamuffins of every kind, wore the red British
uniform), under a Captain H----, marched also for Ciudad Real, and
nearly at the same time, but were ordered to pursue a route apart
from mine, by Santa Cruz de la Zarza, and down the other side of the
mountains, by Corral de Almuguer and Madridejos.
"The morning had broken clear and cloudless, when, passing through an
open tract of country, we reached Yepes, and the summer sun of
Castile came up in all his burning glory. I generally rode about
fifty yards in front of my party to avoid the incessant complaints
and cries of the sick and wounded, whose ailments or sores were
exasperated by the increasing heat and pitiless jolting of the
bullock-cars, which had neither springs nor iron axles. The day was
cloudless and scorching; the plain hot, dry, and dusty, all
vegetation being burned out of it. No breeze came from the distant
mountains; but a vast swarm of black flies, which floated like a
vapour about us, gave incredible annoyance.
"A poor young officer (lieutenant in an English light cavalry
regiment) expired under the pain of his mortifying wounds and
accumulated sufferings. This event caused a temporary halt. By the
side of the mule-track, which crossed that arid plain, we hastily
made a little grave, about a foot deep, and laid him down, yet warm,
in his uniform, and coffinless. A little of the blood-stained straw
from the waggons was spread over his face, and then we covered him
up, heaping the dry dusty soil over him by our feet, by the butts of
muskets, and blades of bayonets, to keep the wolves from disturbing
his rest. Near this lonely grave there flowed a little fountain from
a rude stone duct, which had been made in the days of old, 'en tiempo
antique,' as a mule-driver told me. In twenty minutes after, we were
all again en route, with the mule-bells jangling and the wheels
jarring, as if nothing had happened; but his place in the waggon was
soon supplied, as every hour some of my convalescent guard became
unable to endure the weight of their trappings, and had to be placed
among the sick. Thus our progress was so slow that night was closing
before we entered La Guardia, a small town, about sixteen miles from
Aranjuez.
"As we clambered and toiled up the rocky ridge which it crowns, on
the right bank of the Cedron, Crogan and I, who rode in front, were
surprised to find the little town almost deserted, and that a few of
the inhabitants who had lingered until we were close at hand, were
retiring from it on the other side, some on foot and others on mules,
but all bearing away their goods and chattels, beds and furniture.
Entering, we found it empty; and as there were neither alcalde nor
alguazils to go through the farce of distributing billets, we
quartered ourselves wherever we best could. After conveying all the
wounded from the waggons into the great convent (I carried Dr. Quill
on my back, for he was weak as a child), there we laid them, in rows,
on the tiled floors; and, after filling their canteens with water,
left them to warm themselves the best way they could, for we were
wearied almost to death by the slow loitering march of the past day,
under a scorching Castilian sun.
"La Guardia is surrounded by a strong but ruinous fortified wall,
which was built in the olden time to defend the district from the
incursions of the Moors; and at each end it had a gate, whereon I
posted a guard of a corporal and three men; for as the whole country
swarmed with thieves and guerilla deserters, I knew not what picaros
might be lurking in the old gypsum quarries near the Cedron.
"Darby Crogan and I took possession of a deserted house in the main
street. He lighted a fire, and being scarce of fuel, made pretty
free use of the doors and shutters, chairs and tables; and we broiled
on a ramrod, or boiled in a camp-kettle, our poor ration beef,
sprinkling it with flour, and eating it without salt, for that was a
commodity extremely scarce among us in Spain; hence, the flavour of
our commissariat beef, after being carried in a canvas haversack, on
a long day's march, under a burning sun, would have driven Soyer or
his majesty of Oude into fits.
"We had scarcely concluded this miserable meal, which we shared
fraternally--for on service, though discipline is never forgotten,
the officer and private are more blended together, as real soldierly
sentiment replaces empty etiquette--when we were startled by the
report of two or three muskets in our immediate vicinity.
"'Hollo!' said Crogan, springing to the door of the house, 'the inimy
'ill be on us before we can say peas!'
"'Some guerillas, or picaros, or perhaps, Barba Roxa,' said I,
setting down my flask of aguardiente, to listen.
"'Darby Roxy!--sure it 'ill be pleasant to meet a namesake.'
"'Not if he beats up our quarters, when we are in so poor a condition
to resist any who might attempt it; and the watches and rings, &c.,
of so many sick officers are booty enough for a few enterprising
Spaniards, who might try to knock the guard on the head. Look to our
pistols, Crogan; bring up the horses, and we will ride forth to
reconnoitre.'
"'Right, yer honour--I'm the man,' replied the active Irishman, as he
looked to the priming of our pistols, loaded his carbine, and hurried
to the shed close by, where our horses were chewing their rations of
chopped straw; he saddled, and brought them to the door; and thus, in
three minutes, we were both mounted. Meanwhile, the guards at each
gate of the little town had turned out; and, leaving word to get the
whole party under arms in the street, accompanied by Crogan, I rode
at a rapid trot towards that direction in which the flashes had been
seen by our sentinels.
"La Guardia lay buried in obscurity; the night was dark, and a thin
vapour veiled the stars; but no moon was visible, though at times a
red meteor flashed across the sky. As the warm night-wind passed
over the vast tracts of waste and untilled land, it was laden with
the rich aroma of those innumerable little plants like mignionette,
which flourish by the wayside in all the wild parts of Spain.
"'Soft ground, sir,' said Crogan, as his horse stumbled among the
dry-scorched soil; 'by the holy! this is just like still-hunting,
only the bog, bad luck to it! is as dhry as a bone.'
"'Hush!' said I, reining in my horse; 'do you not hear something?'
"'By my troth I do,'replied Darby; and as he spoke, a musket flashed
about a quarter of a mile distant; and then we heard a faint cry,
like a woman's.
"'There are no French in this neighbourhood,' said I, surprised.
"'But plinty of thaves and robbers, sir; and a nice meetin' it 'id be
for us.'
"'Forward!' said I; 'we must just take them, like our wives, Crogan,
for better or worse.'
"'And, like the wives, a sorry takin' it may be for some of us,' said
Darby, with a reckless laugh, as we rode on in the dark; and reaching
the skirt of a cork wood, found a large Spanish coach, drawn by two
mules--such a turn-out as one might have met in those days on the
prados of Seville or Madrid--being ransacked by five or six ruffians,
armed with pistols, knives, and carbines. A man lay dead among the
long grass, near the trees; the mules were kicking and plunging in
the traces; and while one ruffian dragged out two ladies, the others
were cutting open and emptying their portmanteaus. I drew my a word.
"'Make your horse rear, sir, the moment we are fired at,' cried
Crogan, who was a practised trooper--' 'twas by not doing so that
Corporal Lanigan, of ours, got a ball in his chest, at Talavera--his
first battle too.'
"'Forward!' cried I, 'cut them down!'
"'Whoop--hubaboo! this baste ov mine 'ud clear the rock of Cashel at
one spring!' exclaimed Crogan, who uttered an Irish yell, as we fell
suddenly on the marauders; and though we were but two to six, routed
them in a moment. Three shots were fired at us: I cut one fellow
across the hand, and severed his fingers, which grasped the barrel of
his musket; Darby stretched another among the grass, and, whether
scared by his Irish shout, our sudden onset, or the dread that there
were more of us, I know not but in a twinkling they had vanished into
the wood, and we sprang from our horses to assist the ladies.
"'Ay de mi! señor oficial!' cried the younger, grasping me by the
left arm; 'a thousand prayers and thanks.'
"'Ay! mi señor Caballero, muchias gracias,' added the elder, making a
stately, but profound curtsy to Crogan.
"'Why, mam, you make a regular Irish dip,' said he, raising his hand
to the peak of his helmet 'But, sure you've dhropped something,' he
added, picking up a flask. 'Oh, it can't be this, at all--aggadenty,
the thafe! Hurroo! it's like raal Cork, but out of a bran-new cask.'
"The old lady now turned to me, perceiving that I was the officer,
and prayed 'el santo de las santos,' and all the saints in heaven
might bless us, for our courageous and timely succour.
"'We are on our way to Ciudad Real from Madridejos, and were attacked
in the wood. My señor escudero was shot, our outriders fled; and the
ladrones would undoubtedly have maltreated me--not that I cared for
myself, señor, but my dear little goddaughter--la nina--the child--la
nina Estella. It was all for her that I trembled'--and so forth.
"By the moon, which glinted for a time through the hazy clouds, I
could perceive that the speaker was a middle-aged lady, very dark
complexioned; and, though not handsome, possessing a tolerably good,
even stately presence; and that her goddaughter, whose features were
blanched by terror, had fine dark Spanish eyes, and a graceful
figure, though somewhat undersized.
"I begged of them to be no longer alarmed.
"'Señoras,' said I, 'my detachment is at La Guardia, close at hand;
allow me to offer my escort to you, so far as Ciudad Real, for that,
also, is my destination.'
"'We owe you a thousand thanks, señor oficial,' replied the gentle
voice of la nina Estella, who seemed to be somewhere about eighteen.
'Oh, I shall never forget that fellow's red beard! Madre de Dios,
what a size and colour it was!'
"'O ho! then our friend was Sancho himself.'
"'Ah, señor,' said the old lady, 'how happily we will avail ourselves
of your kind offer.'
"'Good--I shall have pleasant companions for the remainder of this
most unpleasant journey,' thought I, beginning to repack the
half-rifled mails.
"'We are travelling in great haste,' said the señora. 'Is your
detachment composed of horse or foot, caballero?'
"'It partakes of both, señora; being thirty waggons of sick and
wounded.'
"'Sick and wounded! O madre de Dios! 'tis quite a travelling
hospital; thirty waggons--a lazarretto--and I have lost my priceless
relic of St. Margarida the Scot. Oh, señor valaroso, we owe you a
million of favours, but will rather proceed alone. And here is this
rogue, Pedro, come back with his mule. Ah, false coward, to leave
your young mistress in such peril. I will have you well beaten when
we reach Ciudad Real; I will, sir. What would have become of us, but
for the miraculous arrival of the señor oficial?'
"While I assisted the trembling Pedro to restrap the portmanteaus,
and put the mules in order, a colloquy was proceeding between Darby
Crogan, and the Spaniard whom he had levelled when the fray first
began.
"'Silence, now,' I heard him say, while striking the butt of his
carbine to shake the priming; 'it will soon be all over wid ye; so
die aisy--do, and don't be bothering me.'
"'Ay, por amor de Dios, Señor Inglese,' implored the Spaniard on his
knees.
"'Señor Inglese, indeed!' said Darby, testily, as the aquardiente
mounted into his brain; 'is it an Englishman you'd call me, you
rascally Spaniard, and I, praise God! a dacent Irishman, like my
father and mother before me?'
"'Ay de mi, Señor Dragone----'
"'Dragon, is it, now! I have a name, Mr. Spaniard, as good as your
own, for lack of a better, and that is Darby Crogan, ould Widda
Crogan's boy, at the four cross roads, near the bog of ----; but what
am I prating about? To make a long story short, prepare for your
wooden surtoo, and make a clane breast you spalpeen of the earth,
you!'
"'Come, come, Darby,' said I, 'let him go; he is only a poor rascal
of a Murcian.'
"'It's only makin' game of him I am, your honour; but sure I am that
his being, as you say, a marchent won't make him feel dyin' a bit
more,' replied Darby, uncocking his carbine with an air of
discontent. 'Richly he desarves to die, for he fired his pistols at
me twice; the curse of Cromwell be on him!'
"'Away now,' said I, pointing to the wood; 'vayan usted con Dios, or
demonic, if it suits you better; and see, villain, that we meet no
more!'
"With a dark gleam in his eye the disarmed robber slunk away, and I
saw that his face, where not streaked with blood from Darby's sword
cut, was ghastly pale with hate, fear, and fury.
"We placed the ladies in their antique caravan-looking coach; buckled
their baggage on the pyramidal top thereof; furnished Pedro and
another servant with the arms and ammunition of the two robbers;
promised to see the unfortunate escudero interred, a promise which we
never performed; and after escorting them some miles beyond the cork
wood, bade them adieu, receiving a pressing invitation to visit them
at Ciudad Real, 'where every one knew Donna Emerenciana de
Alcala-de-los-Gazules,' which name I give myself no small credit for
remembering. We then returned to La Guardia, and for a time thought
no more of the affair.
"I had ordered the drum to be beaten before daylight, but it was not
until two hours after it that the whole of the sick and wounded were
again stowed into their waggons, and en route; for in the back-garden
of the convent we had to bury those whom we found dead.
"Then again began that melancholy chorus of groans and cries of pain,
mingled with curses in English and Spanish, the cracking of whips,
and jingle of bells, as the obstinate mules and lazy bullocks, which
drew the rude cars, were urged to motion; and over wretched roads we
departed from La Guardia, towards the mountains.
"Passing over the ground of the last night's adventure, Crogan picked
up something which glittered amongst the grass; it proved to be the
portrait of a young lady, in a veil, flowing over a high comb; and in
her well-arched eyebrows, fine dark eyes, roguish mouth, and
fascinating smile, I recognised Donna Estella.
"'Bravo! a delightful souvenir of La Guardia,' said I; and, after
admiring it for a time, consigned it to my breast-pocket. 'Darby, I
will owe you a dollar for this when I draw on the paymaster.' I
gazed at it frequently on the march, and every time I did so ray
interest in the original increased (but bah! do not think I was fool
enough to fall in love with a mere miniature), and I resolved that if
she was to be found in Ciudad Real I would certainly discover and
visit her.
"Again a black cloud of flies covered the whole of us; several cars
broke down; and such was the terrible nature of the road that one
fell entirely over a precipice, bullocks, wounded, and all; and then
so great was the delay occasioned by the various casualties, that
evening came on before we reached Mora, which is only ten miles from
La Guardia. So the reader may have some idea of the tedium of our
progress.
"Mora I found also abandoned by its inhabitants, who fled at our
approach, carrying with them all provisions and everything else which
could be borne away. Many of the houses appeared to have been
recently burned, for flames were yet smouldering in three of them,
and in another two men were lying dead; one shot, the other
bayoneted. Being certain that there were no French in the
neighbourhood, or nearer than Burgos and Navarre, I was at a loss to
comprehend the source of this terror and outrage: but, influenced by
anxiety to be nearer Ciudad Real, and to have my defenceless
detachment disposed of for that night, I pushed on, in hope of
reaching a small village, which, as my 'route' indicated, lay about
ten miles further off.
"Descending from Mora, we traversed a plain which lies between two
sierras that terminate at Porzuna, in La Mancha: and if our progress
was slow by day, it was slower still by night. The heat was yet
excessive; a thick impalpable dust floated about us; the air was
close and still; there was not a breath of wind. Our thirst was
intense, and a murmur of satisfaction arose from my mournful
cavalcade when the blackened sky, and the croaking of the frogs,
announced rain; and when it did come, it came in torrents. Then,
raising the covers of the waggons, the wretched patients thrust out
their pallid faces and trembling hands to catch the heavy drops. The
dusty plain soon became transformed into a sea of mud, and the poor
convalescent guard sank above their ankles at every step, while,
deeper still, the mules went above their fetlocks.
"Anxious and impatient, accompanied by my orderly, I rode forward a
few miles, but failed to discover the said village; the whole
district was desolate, and being without a guide, I feared that we
had lost the way. On returning I found matters still worse; for,
taking advantage of my absence, the villanous Spaniards, by a
preconcerted arrangement, had simultaneously cut the traces of their
mules and bullocks, and (though my guard shot a few of them in the
attempt) had fled, leaving the sick and wounded to die in the
wilderness.
"I cannot say whether anger or despair was my prevailing emotion; but
to be left thus, with three or four-and-twenty waggons (for their
number was now reduced), full of sick and dying men, among the
mountains of Toledo, without provisions, and without a medical
officer, was not very pleasant. Though the rain was still falling,
as it falls only in Spain (like one ceaseless and tremendous
shower-bath), Crogan and I departed at a gallop after the runaways,
but could only overtake one; and, as he would neither halt nor obey
us, we fired at him with our pistols, and, breaking his leg, left him
in the same condition he had left so many of our comrades.
"Aware that not a moment should be lost in procuring a fresh team, we
turned in the direction of Toledo, and ascended the sierra, half
blinded by the rain which lashed in our faces, and, by swelling the
streams from the hills, was fast making the valley between them a
sheet of water
"'A fine thing it will be, your honour,' said Crogan--'for I'm just
in the mood to be savage--if we fall in with the Rapparees that
rummaged over the ould lady, last night, and sacked Mora and La
Guardia.'
"'Never mind, Darby, my boy, you will die in the bed "of honour"
then.'
"'Divil a one of me cares--though, by my sowl,' he added, as our
horses plashed fetlock-deep in water, 'I would like that same bed of
yer honour's to be a dhry one.'
"'So would I, Darby, but remember--
"'Why should we be melancholy, boys,
Whose business 'tis to----die?'
"'By the hokey! that ditty sounds very like as if the man that made
it, sir, had been up to his neck in a bog at the time. But there are
lights!'
"'And the rain is abating, too.'
"To be brief. After a ten miles' ride, we reached Almonacid de
Zorita, a small town of New Castile, where we roused the alcalde from
his bed. He summoned his alguazils, and they, after an infinite deal
of trouble, collected by impress all the cattle in the place,
amounting to about twenty mules, and as many bullocks. The alcalde
assisted us with ill-concealed reluctance, and told me that he and
the alcalde of Mora had that morning transmitted to the commandant at
Ciudad Real an account of certain outrages, and lawless impressment
of mules, committed by a British detachment, at Mora and La Guardia.'
"'You must mistake, Señor Alcalde,' said I, angrily, for I was
drenched to the skin at the time; 'the only plunderers of La Guardia,
if I may judge from personal experience, are true Castilians.'
"'The Marquis of Santa Cruz shall judge,' said the alcalde, showing
us to the door. 'Adieu, señores.'
"'Good-bye, old gentleman, and bad manners to you,' said Crogan, as
we leaped on our horses, and, recrossing the sierra reached the
waggons about daybreak: and though sleepless and exhausted, I was but
too happy when the new team was traced to them, and the whole were
once more on their way towards La Mancha.
"Slowly and wearily we toiled on by the banks of the Algador, and
again crossing the mountains, near a lake into which it flows,
reached Guadalerza, all but overcome by heat and fatigue. I remember
that near the lake (which was literally alive with adders and small
snakes) there stood a solitary convent; and as we passed its walls,
the fair recluses waved their handkerchiefs from their narrow
gratings, with many a cry of 'viva los Inglesos,' so long as we were
within hearing. From Guadalerza, fortunately, the inhabitants had
not fled, and they answered promptly and readily the piteous cries of
our sufferers for water, which was supplied to them in crocks and
jars, that were filled and emptied as if to quell a conflagration.
"The village of Fuentelfresno, which overlooks those sands from
whence the Guadiana is supposed to spring, was our next
halting-place, but its miserable and impoverished inhabitants were
totally unable to afford us rations of any kind; and there several of
the wounded, whose sabre-cuts or gun-shot wounds, by the jolting of
the waggons, had broken out afresh, expired. There were two officers
and four soldiers, whom we buried in one hole (alas! I cannot call it
a grave), under an old orange-tree, near the Jarama. Finding that it
was useless to halt in a place where we were in danger of starving,
we went further on, and bivouacked nine miles beyond it. near a
little runnel of spring water, on a fine green plain. The soundest
sleep that ever closed my eyes was enjoyed there, on that soft grassy
sward, beside my horse's heels; but I cannot omit to mention the
terror by which it was broken.
"My charger snorted, reared, and tried madly to break away from the
peg to which I had picketted him.
"I raised myself on inv elbow, and looked around me. The waggons
were all closely drawn up side by side: the escort were sleeping
among their piled arms, and, muffled in their great-coats, our four
sentinels stood motionless, about three hundred yards distant. The
moonlight was clear and beautiful. Suddenly something reared its
head close beside me; I shrunk under my blanket, and, lo! a frightful
snake, nearly fifteen feet long, passed over the whole bivouac,
hissing and gliding; but, fortunately, without biting any one, it
disappeared into a little thicket of laurels and underwood which grew
near us.
"'Och, this Spain!--snakes, too--divil mend it!' I heard Crogan
muttering in his sleep; 'more ov it yet! and I have never had a raal
good potato down my throat since I came into it.'
"Next day, the sun-burnt plains of La Mancha lay before us; but ere
the intense heat of noon, we reached Fernancaballero, in the partida
of Piedrabueno; and there (so exhausted were my soldiers, and so
terrible the complaints of the wounded), though my route permitted me
to tarry but one night, I was compelled to halt for two additional
days, an indulgence which nearly cost me my life. In the early
morning, when visiting the quarters of the sick and wounded, to
render them any assistance in my power before marching, I became
aware that a person was following me through the dark, muddy, and
unpaved streets of the mountain Puebla.
"As a soldier, habitually cautious, and, as a campaigner, aware of
the Spanish character, I grasped the hilt of my Highland sword, and
walked watchfully on.
"This man, by whom I had certainly been dogged and followed for some
time, was now joined by two others, and the three accompanied my
steps, remaining close behind. Crogan was looking after our horses,
and I had no other orderly or attendant; but resolving that if their
intentions were bad to anticipate them, I halted, and confronting the
trio, said, as if without suspicion.--
"'Señores, que hora es?'
"'Son los quatro, Caballero,' replied one, gaping at me with surprise
on being so suddenly accosted; but I saw the ominous gleam of two
knives, as they were secretly drawn from the broad worsted sashes of
his companions, who skilfully endeavoured to conceal the act. Quick
as lightning, drawing a pistol from my belt, I fired a bullet right
at the head of one, whose enormous red beard the flash revealed to
me. The hall tore open his cheek, and carried away his left ear.
His comrade rushed upon me, but I received him by thrusting the
muzzle into his mouth, and hurling him furiously back. On this they
all took to flight; but not before I perceived that the wounded man
had his left hand swathed in a bandage.
"'O ho, Señor Sancho, la Barba Roxa!' said I, recognising the robber
whom I had maimed at La Guardia; 'I thought your voice was not
unfamiliar to me.'
"I hurried to the muster-place, in a frame of mind that struggled
between wrath at my narrow escape, and triumph at the victory I had
won; but, in ten minutes after, the drum beat, and, replacing the
sick in the waggons, we moved off.
"Our march of fifteen miles from Fernancaballero we got rapidly over;
for Crogan and I having found no less than twenty-five mules grazing
near the Alzuer, which there flows through a fertile, plain, many of
them bridled, as if just abandoned by their riders, we yoked them to
the waggons, and entering Ciudad Real, the capital of La Mancha,
passed at a rapid pace through its broad, straight, and well-paved
streets, to the great Plaza, or principal square.
"'The Lord be praised!' thought I, as the train halted, and I gave in
my papers to the Spanish town-major, Don José Gonzales y Llano, a
field-officer of that regiment of Leon, which fled, en masse, from
the field of Vittoria. 'My duty and my troubles are over together.'
"But I was grievously mistaken, as I might have augured from the
manner of the town-major, who curled his mustaches, and shifted from
one foot to the other, like a man who has something unpleasant to
say, but dares not.
"While the occupants of the waggons were being conveyed to hospital
by fatigue-parties of Spanish soldiers, and my guard joined a
detachment of convalescents, who, under another officer, were on
their march towards the castle of Belem. I soon became aware that I
was an object of marked attention to the denizens of Ciudad Real. A
vast crowd had gathered in the Plaza, and I saw many men,
particularly paisanos, gesticulating violently, and pointing to me,
while the muttering gradually rose into shouts of 'Maldetto! mueran
los Inglesos! Perro! ladrone! bandido!'
"'What the devil is the meaning of all this?' thought I; and
indignantly pushed my horse right through them. On this the cries
redoubled, and the crowd increased so fast, that I was fain to ride
at a trot towards the house of a guantero (a maker of those gloves
for which Ciudad Real is famous throughout Spain), on whom I had been
billeted. There I found Darby Crogan awaiting me, breathless,
exasperated, and carbine in hand, for he, too, had been followed in
the same manner by a mob, who shouted, yelled, threw mud, stones, and
rotten melons, with every missile which the uncleaned streets so
readily afforded. We were perfectly at a loss to comprehend the
cause of treatment so unusual and so unmerited.
"'El guantero, our patron, is as cross as two sticks, or a bag of
ould nails, devil mend him! and unless your honour has a coin about
you, it's but a cowld supper we'll have,' said Crogan, as we entered
the sala, or principal apartment of the house.
"'I have not had a peseta since we left Mora,' said I; 'but here is
the patron at supper, on a cold fowl, too! we are just in time.'
"'Sure he'll ask us to ate wid him--Och! for the smallest taste in
life!' sighed poor Darby, for our food had been principally roasted
castanos during the two previous days, so miserably was the Spanish
commissariat conducted. The patron was certainly at supper; but,
instead of welcoming us to his house as the deliverers of Spain, who
had driven the usurper from Torres Vedras to the Douro, from the
Douro to the Ebro, and from thence towards the Pyrenees, he barely
bestowed a bow upon us, and desired his servant to conduct me to one
room and Crogan to another. Amazed at the coldness of this reception
within, which corresponded so exactly with the ungenerous treatment
of the mob without, a storm of indignation gathered in my heart; but
being aware that a strong Spanish garrison occupied the citadel, and
that the Dons were lads who did not stand on trifles, I pocketed my
wrath and turned away, resolving on the morrow to discover Donna
Emerenciana and la nina Estella.
"'Blue blazes!' grumbled Darby; 'are we not to have a ration of
something to-night? Lord, sir, you don't know how hungry I am, for
the two insides o' me are sticking together. I wish we had hould of
that darling pullet.'
"'So do I, Crogan, and that the old guantero had hold of the horns of
the moon.'
"'Wid his fingers well greased, the ould thief! Never mind, sir,
wait till they're all asleep, and if I lave a place unransacked, I am
not the boy of ould Widdy Crogan, at the four cross-roads.'
"The sulky looks of the glover were reflected by those of his wife
and servant, a buxom Basque woman, who wore her coal-black hair
plaited into one long tail, which overhung her thick woollen
petticoat of bright yellow. Her stockings were scarlet; and I saw
Crogan squinting at her well-turned ankles, cased in their neat
leather abarcas, as she tripped before us, up the steep wooden stair
that led to my apartment. The brown-cheeked Basque bade us
'good-night,' in bad Spanish, set down the light, and on being told
that one room would do for the soldier and myself, withdrew. Crogan
placed a few chairs against the door, and near them lay down on the
floor, with his carbine loaded and half-cocked. Without undressing,
I threw myself on the bed, with my drawn sword beside me, for the
uproar still continued in the street; but long before its din had
died away, we were both buried in profound sleep--the deep and
dreamless slumber of long weariness and toil.
"From this happy state I was aroused about midnight by a loud noise.
Sword in hand, I sprang up, and Darby's promise to overhaul the
patron's pantry flashed upon my mind. But, lo! a lantern glared into
my eyes; and I saw the brown uniforms, red facings, silver
epaulettes, bronzed features, and enormous mustaches of several
Spanish officers, who surrounded me with drawn swords. Among them I
recognised Don José Gonzalez y Llano, the town-major, by whose orders
I was roughly seized and disarmed. The lantern was held rudely
before my face, then to my belt-plate and the buttons of my coat.
"'The seventy-first regimento infanteria de Escotos,' said one.
"'La division de Don Roland Hill,' said another.
"'Señores, what is the meaning of this intrusion, and how dare you
lay hands thus upon me?'
"'The Marquis of Santa Cruz de la Zarza will tell you that,' said the
little major, insolently.
"'Then where is the marquis?' asked I, furiously.
"'At his palace, where he waits you, and requires your presence,'
said a young officer, who wore the cross of St. James and the
splendid uniform of an Ayudante de Campo. 'Come with us, señor,' he
added, politely. 'I beg to assure you that resistance is worse than
useless; so permit me, for the present, to receive your sword.'
"I handed the young aide-de-camp my belt and scabbard.
"'Gentlemen, I beg you to remember that I am an officer bearing his
Britannic Majesty's commission.' And without saying more, I
accompanied them from the house of the glover, under escort of four
Spanish soldiers, who surrounded me with fixed bayonets. In silence
we traversed various streets, which were buried in darkness and
obscurity; and I saw nothing of Crogan (for I had been seized while
he was on his exploring expedition); yet though anxious and
perplexed, I maintained a haughty silence, and disdained to question
my conductors.
"The bell of the cathedral tolled midnight as we entered the great
Plaza, and saw before us the stately palace of the marquis
brilliantly illuminated, for he was giving a magnificent fete in
honour of his patron saint, whose festival had occurred on the day
that had passed. From the lofty latticed windows, four-and-twenty
lines of variously-coloured light fell across the great Plaza of the
bull-fights, and shed their prismatic hues on its plashing fountains.
A flight of marble steps led us to the vestibule, where a Spanish
guard of honour was under arms, with fixed bayonets; and, passing
between their ranks, we ascended to the grand saloon of the palace.
"In that magnificent apartment, decorated in the florid and
profusely-gilded style of Charles the Fifth's time, filled with a
deluge of light from crystal chandeliers, and over a slippery floor
of clear and tesselated marble, I was led by my conductors through
the glittering crowd of guests. On every hand I saw the brown
uniforms, red facings, and silver epaulettes of the Spanish line, the
blue and silver of the Portuguese, the green of the Cazadores, and
the black velvet suits of old-fashioned cavaliers, wearing the
crosses of St. James and of Calatrava. The ladies wore, almost
uniformly, dresses of black or white, but with a profusion of the
richest lace. Many of them looked like beautiful black-eyed brides,
for their brows were wreathed with flowers, or they had one fresh red
rose among their dark glossy hair, placed just beside the comb, from
which fell that sweeping veil which like a gauzy mist floated about
their superb figures. For years I had not looked on such a scene.
"'Madre de Dios! what an officer!' 'O! Santos! that a British
officer!' 'Morte de Dios! he a cavalier!' were the exclamations in
every varying tone. I was led along the saloon; the music ceased in
the gilded gallery; the dancers paused, mingled, and crowded about
us; then reflecting that I had come straight from the camp and field,
where my comrades were facing danger and death for these same
Spaniards, I thought the exhibition made of me by the Major Don José
Gonzalez, of the regiment of Leon, alike scurvy and ungrateful. Our
division of the army had not received a farthing of pay for six
months at that time, and many a brave fellow fell at Vittoria and the
Pyrenees without receiving his hard-won arrears, which, more than
probably, his relations never obtained either.
"I was in the same plight in which I had marched from Aranjuez; my
wings worn to black wire; coat purple, and patched with grey and blue
at the elbows; my Tartan trews a mass of darns; scabbard, as I have
said, six inches too short for the claymore; shoes all gone at the
toes; and my last shirt all gone too, save the wrists and collar.
But I was weatherbeaten as a smuggler; and I looked more like a
soldier than the pomatumed Dons of the Spanish line, or the Cavaliers
of Calatrava, who turned up their mustaches and muttered 'basta!' as
I passed them, to where the Marquis stood, with a lady leaning on his
arm.
"Don Christoval, of Santa Cruz, was a tall, gaunt man, with a long
Castilian visage, black lack-lustre eyes, and a solemn air of lofty
pomposity. His mustaches were curled up to his ears. He had an
enormous basket-hilted toledo depending from a sling-belt, and
carried his handkerchief stuffed into the hilt thereof. He wore the
uniform of a Spanish lieutenant-general, and had various little gold
and silver ornaments sparkling on his breast. I was aware that a
graceful and bright-eyed young girl, in white lace, with her head
wreathed by a superb tiara of brilliants, leaned on his arm; but so
solemnly severe was the brow of the Marquis and so brief his
greeting, though in the old style of Castilian courtesy, that he
riveted my whole attention. Besides, I was not a little indignant at
the unceremonious manner in which I had been brought before him, and
made a spectacle to his guests.
"'Señor Don Christoval,' said I, 'for what am I brought--I may say
dragged--hither from my billet, after a tedious march, and after
having duly delivered over my detachment, according to my orders from
head-quarters?'
"'Señor official,' replied the Marquis, with a look of grave
severity, 'you are charged with murdering two Spaniards, carrying off
twenty mules from La Guardia, and levying other contributions in the
partida.'
"'Who dare to be my accusers?' I asked, thunder-struck at such a
charge.
"'The alcalde of La Guardia, whose brother is one of the slain; and
Alonzo Perez, a master-muleteer of Fuentelfresno, whose mules you
carried off.'
"'Marquis, on my honour as a British officer and gentleman, I deny
this.'
"The Marquis smiled coldly, as he replied,--
"'To-morrow we will confront you with the worthy alcalde; and as for
the mules, the owner recognised them this morning, drawing your
waggons into Ciudad Real. Each animal has a private notch in its
ears.'
"'Marquis, I beg to assure you----'
"'Sir--no more. Here I cannot listen to explanations. I might place
a guard over you, but nevertheless consider yourself a prisoner, and
believe that any attempt to escape will be deemed but a proof of
guilt. Retain your sword--partake of our hospitality; and I hope,
señor, that the morrow will find you prepared to refute these dark
charges.'
"He waved his hand with such an air as a Castilian noble could alone
assume, and with a lofty gait strode away: then in his daughter, who
swept on by his side, for the first time I recognised the young lady
I had rescued at La Guardia, the original of the portrait Darby had
found, and which at that moment I had upon my person.
"Her large dark eyes dilated with astonishment, and then sparkled
with the recognition, which the punctilio of the place or her
father's pride and severity, together with my tatterdemalion aspect,
prevented her avowing; and thus, though I had saved her life--yea,
more than her life--at the risk of my own, this dazzling creature
passed away and left me, without a word of thanks or courtesy.
"I do not remember that I felt either the alarm, horror, or
astonishment that might be supposed consequent to an accusation so
startling as murder and marauding. I can only account for this by
the deadness of feeling and of all sense of danger which results from
actual service and warfare. But there was one emotion which I felt
deeply--an angry pride; aware that I was an object of aversion and
suspicion to the gay guests of the Marquis, among whom the fat and
ferocious little town-major made himself very conspicuous in laying
down the Spanish military law on the enormities I had committed. The
hidalgos gazed at me indignantly through their eye-glasses; the
dark-eyed donnas peeped timidly through the openings of their veils,
and 'matador, borrachio, Inglese ladrone,' were the gentlest of the
epithets I heard muttered by many a pretty lip. My heart swelled
with rage, and instead of joining the dancers, or aiding in the
onslaught made upon the viands which covered the long tables of an
adjoining saloon, between lofty epergnes and vases of crystal and
silver, filled with summer flowers, I stood aloof with folded arms,
and felt the smarting of a wound received but a few months
before--and that wound was received for Spain, and on Spanish ground!
"At a little distance I saw the Donna Estella whispering to her
father's aide-de-camp. A minute afterwards he approached me.
"'Señor,' said he, 'if you will pardon the advice of a friend, I
beseech you to retire to your quarters, for all here view you with
hostile eyes; and, as a brave soldier, to whom my little cousin owes
(as she has told me) her life, I cannot afford to see you thus
misused. To-morrow, I hope, will see these clouds dispelled;
meantime, allow me to accompany you. I have here a spare apartment,
to which you are welcome.'
"All places were alike to me; I accepted his offer with gratitude;
and, as we descended to the vestibule, the first person I met was
honest Darby Crogan, with his sword under his arm, and his keen grey
Irish eyes sparkling with rage; and he pushed the laced lacqueys
right and left.
"'I have heard it all, sir,' said the brave fellow, who had been
anxious about me; 'and mighty hard it will go wid you. It was all
the doin' of that capthin of the Chaseers Britaneeks, who came out of
his own route into ours, ransacked La Guardia, and carried off the
mules (bad cess to them!). They were found with us, and the owner is
ready to swear by this and by that, and by everything else, that you
are the man, and these are his mules, as he knows by the holes
punched in their ears, and to these holes he is as ready to swear as
to his own two eyes.'
"'True, Darby; but how is all this to be explained to these hostile
and obstinate Spaniards?'
"'Kape your mind aisy, sir; there are four good hours till daybreak
yet, and if I don't astonish them thaving Dons, I am not Darby Crogan
of the 4th Dragoon Guards.'
"On the terrace of the palace, which had anciently been the
head-quarters of that celebrated fraternity, the Santa Hermandad,
founded in 1249 for the suppression of robbers, I walked to and fro
for half an hour with the aide-de-camp, enjoying a cigar, talking of
the war, my own mishap, and longing to ask a few questions about his
dark-eyed cousin, with whom her miniature had made me so intimately
acquainted. The glorious moon was rolling through an unclouded
Spanish sky, pouring a flood of silver light into the Plaza and court
of the palace, on the towers of the great church, and the magnificent
hospital of Cardinal Lorenzana, the good and wise Archbishop of
Toledo. The gardens of the Marquis were all lighted up by the same
white radiance; the foliage of the citron trees was edged with silver
and laden with perfume; the rose-trees hung their dewy blossoms over
the marble fountains, the clear waters of which plashed and sparkled
in the moonlight. After a pause, I ventured to ask--
"'What is the name of the--the Marquis's daughter?'
"'My cousin--la nina--Estella de la Zarza.'
"'A pretty one enough; and she is about to change it, I presume?'
"'Change it!' reiterated the Ayudante de Campo, who did not perceive
that I was fishing for a certain information. 'Oh! I see--marriage.
She is about to marry, Corpo de Baccho! yes, but our Spanish ladies
do not change their names when they marry.'
"'And who is the happy man--yourself, señor?'
"'Nay, nay--we Catholics cannot marry our cousins. Next week she is
to wed old Don José Gonzalez.'
"'What! that old beer-barrel, the town-major?'
"'Si, señor,' replied he, twirling his mustaches, with a doubtful
look: while I felt that I was beginning to abhor that town-major
immeasurably.
"About eight o'clock next morning I saw sixteen Spanish officers in
full uniform, with their swords and belts, preceded by the said Don
José, marching in file through the court of the palace, at the
side-door of which they entered. A few minutes afterwards my friend,
the aide-de-camp, came to acquaint me, that "the court-martial, by
which I was to be tried, was constituted, and awaited me." Without
any futile protestation against the illegality and rapidity of this
measure, I followed him to a spacious apartment, having four large
windows, which opened clown to the floor, and overlooked a grass park
which lay behind the palace. The members of the court, over which
the town-major (who, from the first, had constituted himself my
deadly enemy) presided, were solemnly sworn across their swords; they
promised to administer justice according to the laws of war, and so
forth, and then the prosecution proceeded.
"I was charged with murdering, or causing to be shot, two peasants;
robbery, in levying contributions; blasphemous sacrilege, in
destroying a statue of the Blessed Virgin. My horizon was now black
as it could be! I knew very little of the language. Save Crogan,
who remained beside me in court, I had not a friend or a comrade near
me; for the whole of my guard had marched for Belem four hours
before, while Maurice Quill, and the other sick officers, could
neither defend nor succour me. I perceived in a moment, that, as
Crogan said, I had been accused of outrages committed by les
Chasseurs Britanniques (who wore scarlet uniform); but I resolved,
that unless matters went hard with myself, not to criminate their
officer, who, by leaving his own proper route, and relaxing his
discipline, had become guilty of the acts for which I was that day to
suffer. The three principal witnesses against me were, the alcalde,
the muleteer, and a farmer from the partida of La Guardia.
"The first--old, stupid, half-blind, and obstinate--swore to my face
that I was the officer who had ordered his dear brother Vincentio,
the abogado, to be shot on his own threshold, and another man to be
bayoneted. In vain I drew his attention to the Highland cap of the
71st, and to my tartan trews, assuring him that I was an Escoto. He
shook his head--I wore a red coat--I was the very man!
"Then came the muleteer, a sturdy Catalonian, clad in a fur jacket
and yellow cotton breeches, wearing a broad sombrero, under which his
black hair hung in a red net. He, too, swore across his knife, that
I had carried off his train of mules, or at least, that at the
bayonet's point, my soldiers had done so, to travel more at their
ease.
"'He did not see me, neither did he then see any waggons of sick, but
he knew his mules as well as if he had been the father of them, the
moment they appeared in the streets of la Ciudad Real.'
"'You will swear to your mules, hombre?'
"'By the marks in their ears, Don José, as readily as I would swear
to my own nose.'
"'Lead forward some of those mules to the window, and let the witness
see them.'
"An uproar of voices was heard in the park, and the witness, who went
to the window, uttered a cry of dismay. The ears of his twenty mules
had been shred off close by the bone!
"'Morte de Dios!' growled the officers, twirling their mustaches;
'these Inglesos are devils!'
"'It was murtherin cruel for the poor bastes,' whispered Darby
Crogan; 'but it was all to save your honour's life I cropped them;
and sure it is worth a bushel of mules' ears; for it was a good
bushel ov 'em I buried this blessed morning. The Lord reward Misther
Quill, for it was his best docthor's knife he lint me, to make
croppies of them all.'
"The little Major Don José was bursting with wrath.
"'Call the next witness,' he exclaimed, furiously.
"A tall, powerfully-formed, and fair-complexioned man, who, contrary
to the Spanish custom, was closely shaven, now came forward, and
stated himself to be a farmer, or jardinero, at Mora and La Guardia.
He had a large patch on his cheek, and kept one hand constantly
thrust into the red and yellow sash which girt his waist.
"Confronting me boldly and vindictively, with all the glare of hate a
cold grey eye can pour, he accused me of destroying for firewood a
statue of the Virgin at Mora, and swore to having seen the act
committed. A growl of anger followed his evidence; and I found that
shooting an alcalde's brother, and carrying off twenty mules, were
mere jokes, compared to this. I was startled by his voice, which,
assuredly, I had heard before--but where? What could be the origin
of a charge so false, so strange, as sacrilege? I turned to question
him, but he was at that moment ordered to withdraw.
"'Señor Ayudante de Campo,' said Don José, 'read from the
RECOPILACION of the military penalties the first article.'
"'El que blasfamare el santo nombre de Dios, de la Vergén ó de los
Santos, será immediamente preso y castigado por la primero vez con
la,' &c.
"'Read the fourth article, concerning outrage to divine images, for
the prisoner has been alike sacrilegious and blasphemous.'
"'El que con irreverencia y deliberation cannocida de desprecio ajare
de obra las sagradas imagenes, ornamentos ó cualquierro de las casas
dedicados al Divino culto, ó las hurtare, servá ahorcado,' &c.
"'The plot thickens,' thought I.
"In short, they sentenced me to be hanged.
"The Marquis, as Governor of Ciudad Heal, dared to confirm this
unjust sentence, which he directed should be put in execution in the
Plaza, at eight o'clock on the following morning.
"Far, far from aid and my comrades; wholly at the mercy of men, whose
hearts the cunning charge of the last witness had totally closed
against me; aware of the futility of denial and defiance, and the
hopelessness of rescue or escape, I sat in a grated room of the
public carcel, or gaol, of the town, almost stupefied by the
suddenness, the shame, and opprobrium of my impending fate. 'Poets
and painters,' says a certain writer, 'have ever made the estate of a
man condemned to die one of their favourite themes of comment or
description.' By heavens! I never met one of either which came
within a thousand degrees of the agony I endured that night at Ciudad
Real. I, a gentleman, a soldier, bearing on my person three wounds,
won on that accursed Spanish soil; innocent of all they alleged;
young, with a long life and rapid promotion before me, to be cut off
thus--strangled like a garotted villain--hanged like a dog, to glut
the noonday frenzy of a Spanish rabble! Horrible! I had often faced
death without shrinking; but now, like a coward's, my whole soul
shrunk from such a death as that which these Spaniards meted out to
me.
"The night came on: I sat in darkness, revolving a myriad futile
plans of escape. I was to die to-morrow, and that conviction seemed
palpably before me. I heard it, saw it, felt it; there was a dull
sound humming in my ears--a tingling in my heart. I recollected,
with remorse and shame, how coldly, calmly, and unmoved I had seen
the provost-marshal's guard hang six soldiers on the retreat from
Burgos. I remembered their struggles, their agonies, and wondered
how they felt. I passed a hand over my throat, compressed it a
little, and shuddered.
"And now, in the man who had accused me of sacrilege, I suddenly
remembered Barba Roxa, the robber, and the hand I had maimed was that
which he retained in his sash.
"'Fool! fool! that I am,' I exclaimed, bitterly; 'where were my eyes,
my ears, my faculties, that knew him not before? This is his
revenge--his Spaniard's triumph.'
"Even my friend, the aide-de-camp, seemed to have abandoned me; and
could it be that the pretty daughter of the Marquis had not pleaded,
or said one kind word to save the poor officer who had so freely
risked his life for hers?
"All at once my stupor left me. I sprang to the bars of the window,
and from their solid sockets, madly strove to wrench them with a
tiger's strength. I felt every corner; the vast iron lock of the
door, the door itself moveless as a wall of adamant. Vain, vain! I
was to die to-morrow, and my swollen heart almost burst with emotion,
when I thought of my friends, my family, and my regiment, all
canvassing the various causes of a death so ignominious.
"A face appeared suddenly at the window, which was raised.
"'Don't be alarmed, yer honour, it's only me,' said a voice.
"'Crogan--you!' I exclaimed, in the confusion of my thoughts; 'are
you not dead--in heaven?'
"'In heaven--the Lord forbid! I'm here, standing on my two feet, not
that I think people there stand on their heads; but don't be spakin'
in that doleful way, sir, at all, for you must prepare to lave this
place in less than no time. Do you hear the knockin' of hammers?
It's them thavin' Spaniards puttin' up the dancin' post in the
Plaza--blazes take that same!'
"'Leave this! Crogan; but how?'
"'By the door, to be sure. It will be opened in ten minutes; and
horses are waitin' for the three of us, I hope, at the corner of the
sthreet.'
"'The three of us, Darby?'
"'Ay, sir, just the three of us; for isn't there a darlin' young lady
goin', too?--but I must be afther lookin' to the girths and straps of
our cattle.'
"He was scarcely gone when the door of the room opened, and the
daughter of the Marquis stood before me, together with a man bearing
a light; and in that man I recognised the under carcelero, or turnkey.
"'Oh! señora,' I exclaimed, my heart bounding with gratitude and joy,
'you have not forgotten me--or abandoned me to this cruel and
unmerited death.'
"'Hush, señor; not a word of thanks or of transport, for that would
spoil all,' she replied, with calmness and decision. 'I do, indeed,
owe you a debt of gratitude; but the mention of that to my father,
and more than all to Don José----'
"'Ah, you shudder at that name.'
"'Would but accelerate your fate. I have bribed the carcelero,' she
whispered, 'and he will sleep sound. His deputy is about to join the
guerillas of the great Don Julian Sanchez, and for twenty dollars
will guide you to Madrid, sent by my cousin, the ayudante; your
horses are waiting at the corner of the Plaza. No more,' she added,
shortly, when I attempted to kiss her hand, which the thick folds of
her ample veil concealed.
"In a minute we had left the detested prison-house, and crossed the
garden which lay between it and the Plaza. Again the glorious moon
was rolling in its silver splendour over Ciudad Heal; and as I gazed
on my fair companion, the interest I felt for her returned vividly,
and became stronger, as the moment approached when I should leave her
for ever. I saw her magnificent eyes sparkling through her veil.
"'Señora,' said I, with hesitation, as our attendant, by hurrying on
before, had left us for one instant alone--'Señora,' I continued,
urged by a kind, a grateful, and a stronger impulse than I could at
that time analyse, 'though to remain here is remaining but to die, I
leave Ciudad Real with the most sincere sorrow.'
"'And why?'
"'Because I may never see you again.'
"'But I also am going to Madrid--and this night, too.'
"I remembered the words of Crogan; I knew alia Spanish love was
capable of; my heart leaped within me.
"'Madrid!' I reiterated.
"'With you and your brave dragoon. Ah, señor, do not refuse to
escort me. My father is bent on marrying me to Don José----'
"'What!--that rascally old town-major? My dear señora, I beg you not
to think of it.'
"'Ah! I have thought a great deal of it, and wept for it too.'
"'Then,' said I, drawing my breath more freely, end seeing a prospect
of vengeance on the pot-bellied major, 'you do not love him?'
"'Oh no; I hate, abhor, detest him; and to avoid him, am about to
retire to Madrid, where my aunt lives. She is reverend mother at our
Lady of Attocha. You know the great convent where the little Jesus
is that works the miracles, and looks so beautiful, a love of an
infant, on the altar of the Hundred Lamps. My aunt will save me from
this detested union if you, señor, will but afford me your escort. I
am friendless,' she continued, weeping; 'for such is the terror of my
father's name that there is not a man in Ciudad Real whom I can
trust. Yet I shall confide in your goodness; indeed I am sure--I
know--I think, I may. The British officer has a high sense of
chivalry 'and honour, but Ay de mi! el Espanol no tiene nada.'
"'Madam,' said I, touched to the heart by the compliment, and her
confiding nature, 'trust to me, and while life remains, by heaven,
and that honour, I will see you safely to Madrid.'
"Crogan, with three saddle-horses, stood at the gate. We mounted,
the fair Estella springing on her jennet, à la cavalier, in the
fashion of Old Castile. We left Ciudad Heal by the northern gate,
and then put our horses to their mettle, as we avoided the direct
route to Madrid, and struck off into the mountains towards Carrion de
Calatrava.
"I might spin my story beyond the limits allotted to me, but surely
it requires no conjuror to guess the sequel! The interest begun by
the miniature, so fortunately found, the charming society,
confidence, and generous spirit of the original strengthened and
confirmed. In four days we reached Madrid, in four more we were
married in the convent chapel of Attocha.
"The Marquis sent the Major Don José expressly to Wellington,
requesting him to hang and behead me. His grace declined to accede,
but the name of Captain ----, of Les Chasseurs Britanniques, was
struck out of the army-list. My head is still safe on my shoulders,
though somewhat powdered by time. Thanks to his Grace of Richmond, I
have got my medal with eight clasps, and La Señora Estella (now known
by another name) is, though somewhat old like myself, one of the
dearest and most affectionate wives in the world, and I crave a
bumper in her honour, gentlemen."
Such was the story of our worthy major, whose toast I need scarcely
say was drunk with enthusiasm.
Our doctor was the next, and like every one who has a story to tell
he had listened with considerable impatience to the adventures of the
major, and the moment his toast had been duly honoured and silence
was restored, he began his tale without further preface, and was then
followed by our rough old Highland quartermaster.