The marches were short, as many of the prisoners were still weak
and, indeed, among their guard were many convalescents who had
recently been discharged from the hospital at Toledo, and who were
going back to France. The little column was accompanied by four
waggons, two of which were intended for the conveyance of any who
should prove unable to march; and the others were filled with
provisions for consumption by the way, together with a few tents,
as many of the villages that would be their halting places were too
small to afford accommodation for the 400 men, even if every house
was taken up for the purpose. Although the first day's march was
only twelve miles, the two empty waggons were quite full before
they reached their halting place; and many of the guard had placed
their guns and cartridge boxes on the other carts.
It was now the middle of August, and the heat in the valley of the
Tagus was overpowering. The convoy, however, had marched at six in
the morning; and halted at eight, in the shade of a large olive
wood; and did not continue its march until five in the afternoon.
The night was so warm that the English prisoners, and many of their
guards, preferred lying down in the open and throwing the blanket
(with which each had been furnished) over him to keep off the dew,
to going into the stuffy cottages, where the fleas would give them
little chance of rest.
On the third day they arrived at the village of Escurial. The next
morning they began to mount the pass over the Sierra, and slept
that night in an empty barracks, at Segovia. Here they left the
main road leading through Valladolid and took one more to the east,
stopping at small villages until they arrived at Aranda, on the
Douro. Thence they marched due north, to Gamonal.
They were now on the main road to the frontier, passed through
Miranda and Zadorra, and began to ascend the slopes of the
Pyrenees. The marches had, for some days, been considerably longer
than when they first started. The invalids had gained strength and,
having no muskets to carry, were for the most part able to march
eighteen or twenty miles without difficulty. Four had been left
behind in hospital at Segovia, but with these exceptions all had
greatly benefited by steady exercise, and an ample supply of food.
"I could do a good deal of travelling, in this way," one of the
officers said, as they marched out from Miranda. "Just enough
exercise to be pleasant; no trouble about baggage or route, or
where one is to stop for the night; nothing to pay, and everything
managed for you. What could one want for, more?"
"We could do with a little less dust," Dick Ryan said, with a
laugh; "but we cannot expect everything."
"Unfortunately, there will be an end to our marching, and not a
very pleasant one," Terence said. "At present, one scarcely
recognizes that one is a prisoner. The French officers certainly do
all in their power to make us forget it; and their soldiers, and
ours, try their best to hold some sort of conversation together. I
feel that I am making great progress in French, and it is
especially jolly when we halt for the night, and get the bivouac
fires burning, and chat and laugh with the French officers as
though we were the best friends in the world."
The march was, indeed, conducted in a comfortable and easy fashion.
At starting, the prisoners marched four abreast, and the French two
abreast at each side; but before a mile had been passed the order
was no longer strictly observed, and the men trudged along, smoking
their pipes, laughing and talking, the French and English
alternately breaking into a marching song. There was no fear of the
prisoners trying to escape. They could, at night, have got away
from their guards easily enough; but there was nowhere for them to
go, if they had done so. The English, smarting from the cruelty and
ill faith of the inhabitants of Talavera and the Spanish
authorities, felt a burning hatred of the Spanish; while the
Spaniards, on their side, deceived by the lying representations of
their Juntas, had no love whatever for the English, though ready
enough to receive money and arms from them.
On leaving Zadorra, the French officer in command said to Terence:
"Now, colonel, we shall have to be more careful during our marches,
keeping a sharp lookout at night. The country here is infested by
guerillas, whom all our efforts cannot eradicate. The mountains of
Navarre and Biscay are full of them. Sometimes they are in bands of
fifteen or twenty strong, sometimes they are in hundreds. Some of
them are at ordinary times goatherds, shepherds, muleteers, and
peasants; but a number of them are disbanded soldiers--the remains
of armies we have defeated and broken up, and who prefer this wild
life in the mountains to returning to their homes. Our convoys are
constantly attacked, and have always to be accompanied by a strong
guard."
"As we have no waggons with us, I should think that they would
hardly care to molest us," Terence said.
"That renders it less likely, certainly, colonel; but they fight
from hatred as much as for booty, and no French soldier who falls
into their hands is ever spared. Generally they are put to death
with atrocious tortures. At first there was no such feeling here
and, when my regiment was quartered at Vittoria, some three years
ago, things were quiet enough. You see, the feeling gradually grew.
No doubt some of our men plundered. Many of the regiments were
composed of young conscripts, with very slight notions of
discipline. Those from the country districts were, as a rule, quiet
lads enough; but among those from the towns, especially such places
as Toulouse, Lyons, and Marseilles, were young scoundrels ready for
any wickedness, and it is to these that the troubles we now have
are largely due.
"Of course the peasants, when they were able to do so, retaliated
upon these marauders. The feeling of hatred grew, on both sides.
Straggling parties of our men were surrounded, captured, and then
hung, shot, or burnt alive.
"Then, on our side, villages were destroyed and the peasants shot
down. Lately, that is, after the defeats of their armies, numbers
of fugitives took to the hills, threw away their uniforms, obtained
peasants' dresses, and set up as what they called guerillas, which
is only another term for bandits; for although their efforts are
chiefly directed against us, they do not hesitate to plunder their
own people, when they need provisions, and are a perfect scourge to
all the villages among the hills between the Bay of Biscay and the
Mediterranean. Of course, they are strongest along the line of
communication with France; but it may be said that, roughly, where
there are mountains there are guerillas, though there are but few
of them along the hills we crossed between the valley of the Tagus
and that of the Douro.
"This is for two reasons: in the first place, there are very few
villages, and they would have difficulty in maintaining themselves;
and in the second place, because hitherto Leon and Old Castile, on
the north of the Sierra, have always been under different commands
to that in the Tagus valley, and therefore there has been but small
communication between them, except by messengers with despatches
from Madrid. The passes have scarcely been used and, indeed, in
winter they are practically altogether impassable; except that
along the valley of the Ebro. We found that to our cost, when we
marched with Napoleon to cut off your British General Moore. We
lost nearly two days getting through them, and the delay saved your
army."
"Yes, it was a very close thing," Terence said. "As I have told
you, I was with Moore; and if the troops from the south had come up
but six hours earlier, it would have gone very hard with us."
"It was an awful time," the officer said, "and I think our army
must have suffered quite as much as yours did. Soult's force was
reduced fully to half its strength, when he first arrived on that
hill near Corunna. Of course the stragglers came in rapidly, but a
great number never returned to their colours again--some died of
cold and hardship, others were cut off and murdered by the
peasantry. Altogether, we had an awful time of it. Your men were,
in one respect, better off than ours; for your stragglers were not
regarded with hostility by the peasants, whereas no mercy was shown
to ours."
"Yes, major, one of the battalions that fought at Talavera was
entirely composed of men who had straggled in the retreat, and who
afterwards succeeded in gaining the Portuguese frontier."
That evening they halted, for the night, at a small village high up
in the passes. The French officer took every precaution against
surprise. Twenty sentries were placed at various points round the
village; and as many more were posted, in pairs, three or four
hundred yards farther out.
At three in the morning, several shots were fired. The troops all
got under arms, and parties were sent out to the outposts. At two
of these posts both the sentries were found stabbed to the heart.
At others men had been seen crawling up towards them, and the shots
that had aroused the troops had been fired. The outposts were
recalled to the village, and the soldiers remained under arms until
morning.
As soon as it was daybreak a scattered fire opened from the hills
on either side of the valley, and it was evident that these were
occupied by strong parties. The villagers, on being questioned,
denied all knowledge of these bands; but under threats said that
they had heard that Minas, with a very strong force, was in the
neighbourhood, and that the Impecinado had been reported to be
among the hills between the pass and that of Roncesvalles.
"What strength do you put them down at, colonel?" the major asked
Terence.
"I should say, from what we can see of them, that there must be
four or five hundred on each hill."
"They must have had information from their spies at Zadorra,
colonel, and half a dozen bands must have united to crush us.
"Diable, that was a good shot!" he exclaimed, as his shako was
struck from his head by a bullet. "That is the worst of these
fellows. They are uncommonly good shots. You see, almost all these
mountain men are accustomed to carry guns, and the charcoal burners
and shepherds eke out a living by shooting game and sending it down
to the towns."
"What are you thinking of doing, major?"
"I shall hold the village," the latter replied. "We might get
through the pass, but I doubt whether we should do so; and if we
did, my men and yours would suffer terribly. Can I rely upon your
fellows keeping quiet?"
"I think so. At any rate, we will all go round and order them to do
so."
There was, however, no necessity to impress this on the men. Two of
them had already been wounded by the guerillas' fire.
"Why, sir," one of them said, "if we had but muskets here, we would
turn out and help the French to drive those fellows off. The French
have behaved very well to us, while the Spaniards did their best to
starve us to death; and there ain't one of us who wouldn't jump at
the chance of paying them out."
"All right, men!" said Terence. "I agree with you, as to the
treatment you have received; however, we are not here to fight. We
are prisoners, and have nothing to do with the fray, one way or the
other; though I don't mean to say that I should not, myself, be
glad to see the French beat the guerillas off."
The other officers found the same spirit among the soldiers they
questioned.
"I quite agree with them," one of the officers said, "and if there
were muskets handy I would not mind leading them, myself, if it
were not for the uniform. Sir Arthur would scarcely be pleased if,
among all his other worries, he got a despatch from the central
Junta, complaining that a large number of innocent peasants had
been killed by English troops, fighting by the side of the French."
Gradually the guerillas drew in towards the village, taking
advantage of every stone and bush, and rarely giving a chance to
the French infantry. Their aim was exceedingly accurate and,
whenever a French soldier showed himself from behind a hut to fire,
he was fortunate if he got back again without receiving a bullet.
"This is getting serious," the French major said, coming into the
cottage where the English officers were gathered. "I have lost
thirty-eight killed and wounded, already. I have had the wounded
carried into the church, and some of your men are unloading the
provision waggons, and taking the contents inside. They have
requisitioned every utensil that will hold water in the village. No
doubt we shall be able to hold out there till some other detachment
comes along the road."
"I think that it is a very good plan, major," Terence said. "They
would hardly be able to carry it by assault, unless they burnt down
the door; and you ought to be able to prevent them from doing
that."
Half an hour later, the whole French force was collected in the
church. As soon as the Spaniards found what had happened, they
speedily entered the village; and opened fire from every window
giving a view of the church, and from loopholes that they quickly
made in the walls.
Terence noticed that, when the British soldiers entered the church,
most of them carried heavy staves. A sergeant came up, and saluted.
"We have had four men killed and eight wounded, sir. The men
declare that they are not going to stand still and see the French
murdered by these fellows, and I doubt if any orders will keep them
back."
"Very well, sergeant. I will speak to them, presently.
"Now, gentlemen," he said, to the other officers, "three of you are
senior to me in our own army and, though I own that I don't know
how matters should stand, holding as I do Lord Beresford's
commission as colonel, I am perfectly willing to place myself under
the orders of whoever may be senior of you."
"I believe I am the senior," one of the captains said; "but I
should imagine that Lord Beresford's commission would, for the
time, rank just as if it had been signed by our own authorities.
Moreover, you are on Wellesley's staff. You have seen more service
out here than any of us, and I think that you are certainly
entitled to the command; though really, I don't see what we can do,
in our uniforms."
"I quite agree with you, Captain Travers, and therefore my proposal
is that we shall all take them off, and fight in our shirt sleeves.
The guerillas will then not be able to affirm that there were any
men in English uniforms assisting the French."
"I think the idea is an excellent one," Captain Travers said.
"Then in that case I will act upon it;" and Terence went up to the
English soldiers, who were standing in a group in the middle of the
church.
"I am sure you quite understand, my men," he said, "that it would
never do for you to be fighting, in British uniforms, against the
Spaniards; otherwise, I leave the matter in your hands. But I may
mention that it is the intention of myself, and the other officers,
to defend this church without our coats and caps. If any of you
like to do the same, of course you can join us. I give no orders
whatever on the subject, but you see that it would get rid of the
inconvenience of soldiers, in British uniforms, fighting against
the Spaniards."
The men answered with a shout of satisfaction, mingled with
laughter and, in less than a minute, the scarlet uniforms had
disappeared. The muskets of the French killed and wounded were
appropriated, and the rest of the English prisoners seized their
clubs.
For some hours the fight continued and, from the roof of the church
belfry and windows, a hot fire answered the incessant fusillade of
the Spaniards. The French and English officers were obliged,
constantly, to impress upon the men that they must husband their
ammunition; as there was no saying how long they might be besieged
before a detachment, strong enough to turn the scale, arrived.
"Maintain a fire heavy enough to make them keep at it. Their
ammunition is likely to run short as soon as ours, and there is not
much chance of their being able to replenish it. But don't fire at
random. Let every bullet tell. Take a steady aim at the windows
through which they are firing."
Late in the afternoon the fire of the guerillas slackened a good
deal, and it was evident that their leaders were enjoining them not
to waste their ammunition. As it became dark, the officers gathered
again in the body of the church. The total loss had risen to
thirty-two killed and fifty wounded, the English casualties being
about a third of the whole.
"It is a heavy loss," the major said, "and I have noticed that, as
the fire slackened, the proportion of men hit has been larger. I
suppose that they are only keeping their best shots at work."
"I should fancy," Terence said, "that if we were to make a sortie,
we could scatter them altogether. As soon as it is dark we might
get out by that sacristy door at the rear. They gave up the attack
on that side some time ago, as they could not get any shelter; and
when they found that was so, they betook themselves to houses where
they were better covered. If we were to go out noiselessly and
sweep round the village; so as to fall upon it in two bodies, one
at each end; they will take us for a body of troops just arrived.
Even if they do hear us, as we go out, we can go straight at them;
and should, I have no doubt, be able to clear the place with a
rush.
"The only thing is, major, I should be glad if your soldiers would
take off their coatees, too, so that there would be nothing to
distinguish our men from yours. What do you think?"
"I think that it will be much the best plan," Captain Travers said.
"In the first place, it is probable that they will try to burn us
out, tonight; and we could not hope to prevent their piling faggots
against the doors, in the dark. For that reason, alone, I think
that it will be much better to attack them than wait for them to
attack us.
"We need only leave some twenty of the less seriously wounded men
to guard the place. When we sally out, the guerillas will have
plenty to do without making an attack on the church. I certainly
think that we are not likely to lose so many lives in a sortie as
we should do in the defence, here, against a night attack."
"I certainly am of your opinion, colonel," the French major said;
"and if you and your men will join us, I have no doubt that we
shall be able to clear the village."
As soon as it became quite dark, the men on the roof were all
called down; with the exception of one or two, who were ordered to
continue to fire from various spots there and in the belfry, so
that the Spaniards should not discover that the garrison had been
withdrawn. Then the French were drawn up, and divided into two
parties. The English who had muskets were told off, in equal
numbers, to each of these parties; as were those who had nothing
but their clubs. The major then ordered his soldiers to take off
their coats, and to leave their shakos behind them.
The French major took the command of one party, and asked Terence
to take command of the other. This he declined.
"No, sir, it is better that one of your own officers should be in
command. We will divide ourselves between the two parties."
The major now impressed upon his men the necessity for absolute
quiet, and for marching as lightly and silently as possible. The
English officers gave similar instructions to their men. It was
arranged that, when the door was opened, the two parties should
issue out simultaneously, two abreast; so that if the alarm was
given before all were out, they would be able to turn right and
left, and attack in both directions at once. A French lieutenant
was appointed to remain in the church, and command the little
garrison of wounded men.
Those who sallied out were to stoop low as they went, and were to
keep a few paces apart. Some hangings in the church were pulled
down and torn up into strips, with which the men were directed to
muffle their boots.
There was no mistaking the ardour with which the soldiers prepared
for the sortie. Both English and French were indignant at being
pent up by a foe they thoroughly despised, and were eager to be at
the enemy. The casualties added to their wrath; one of the French
officers had been killed, and another hurt seriously; while three
of the English had also been wounded, though in each case but
slightly.
The bolts of the door were noiselessly drawn, and that of the lock
forced back; then the two little parties stole out, in the order in
which they had been directed. The guerillas had just begun to fire
heavily, as a prelude, Terence had no doubt, to a serious attack
upon the church. Fortunately there were no houses at the back of
the church, and no shout indicated that the party were seen. They
therefore kept together, until fifty or sixty yards from the door;
then they separated, and continued their way to the ends of the
village to which they had been, respectively, assigned.
Then at one end of the village a French trumpeter sounded the
charge, and two drummers at the other beat the same order,
vigorously, and with loud cheers they rushed down the street, the
French and English alike shouting. It had been arranged that, while
the French held their way straight on, shooting down the Spaniards
as they poured out into the street, the British should break up
into small detachments, burst their way into the houses, and
overpower the enemy there. They found the first houses they entered
deserted, and the soldiers uttered exclamations of impatience as
they heard the heavy roll of firing in the main street. As they
approached the centre of the village, however, they came upon a
number of the Spaniards rushing from their houses.
The men who had arms opened fire at once upon them, while those
with clubs dashed forward, levelling the panic-stricken guerillas
to the ground with their heavy blows, and arming themselves with
their muskets and bandoleers. Thus the firing soon became general,
and the Spaniards, struck with utter dismay, and believing that
they had been attacked by a heavy column that had just arrived,
speedily took to headlong flight, most of them throwing away their
arms as they fled. In some of the houses there were short but
desperate conflicts but, in a quarter of an hour after the first
shot was fired, there was not a guerilla remaining alive in the
village, upwards of a hundred and fifty having been killed; while
on the side of their assailants only some fifteen had been killed,
and twenty-eight wounded.
They soon formed up in the street, and were told off, in parties of
twelve, to the houses in the outskirts of the village. Three in
each party were to keep watch, by turns, while the rest slept. An
English officer was to remain in charge on one side of the street,
and a French officer on the other. The rest went back to the
church, whose doors were now thrown open.
"I thank you most heartily, gentlemen," the French officer said, to
Terence and to the other British officers, "for the immense service
that you have rendered us. Had it not been for your aid, our
position would have been a very precarious one, before morning. As
it is, I think we need fear no further interruption. We are now all
armed; and as, with the wounded fit for work, we are still three
hundred strong, we should beat off any force likely to attack us;
though indeed, I have no belief that they will rally again. At any
rate, their losses have been extremely heavy; and the streets were
completely strewn with guns, so that I doubt whether half of those
who got away have carried their weapons with them."
The next morning, indeed, it was found that in all about 400
muskets had been left behind. All that remained over, after arming
the British soldiers, were broken up and thrown down the wells.
Enough provisions were collected, among the houses, to furnish the
whole with three or four days' rations. The dead were buried in a
field near the village, those wounded too severely to march were
placed in the waggons; and the rest, who had now resumed their
uniforms, set out in high spirits. They were in the same order as
before, but the prisoners were told to carry their muskets at the
trail, while the French shouldered theirs; so that, viewed from a
distance, the British should appear unarmed.
"That has been a grand bit of excitement, Terence," Dick Ryan said
gleefully to his friend, as they marched along together. "Those
fellows certainly fight a good deal more pluckily than the regular
troops do. It was a capital idea to make all the men take off their
uniforms, for I don't suppose the Spaniards, even for a moment,
dreamt that we were among their assailants; at any rate, they have
no proof that we were.
"You really must get me as your adjutant, Terence. I see there is
very much more fun to be got out of your sort of fighting than
there is with the regiment. I am very pleased, now, that I stuck to
Portuguese as you advised me; though it was a great bore, at
first."
"I hope, Dicky, we sha'n't find, when we get back in the spring,
that the corps has been turned over to Beresford as part of his
regular command; for I must say that I quite appreciate the
advantage of independence.
"Well, this business ought to do us some good. No doubt the major
will report, in warm terms, the assistance we have rendered him;
and we shall get good treatment. Of course, some of their prisons
must be better than others and, if they will confine us in some
place near the frontier, instead of marching us half through
France, it will make it all the easier for us to get away. It is
not the getting out of prison that is the difficulty, but the
travelling through the country. I am getting on well with my
French, but there is no hope of being able to speak well enough to
pass as a native. As for you, you will have to keep your mouth shut
altogether, which will be mightily difficult."
"You will manage it somehow, Terence. I have no fear of you getting
me through the country. It is getting out of the country that
seems, to me, the difficulty."
"There is one thing, Dicky. We need be in no hurry about it. There
is little chance of fighting beginning for another six or seven
months and, directly we come to the end of our march, wherever it
may be, we must begin to pick up as much French as we can, from our
guards. In three or four months I ought, at least, to be able to
answer questions; not perhaps in good French, but in French as good
as, say, a Savoyard workman or musician might be able to muster."
"Oh, Lor'!" Dick Ryan said, with a deep sigh, "you don't mean to
say that I must begin to work on another language, just after I
have been slaving, for the last six months, at Portuguese?"
"Not unless you like, Dicky. I can either start alone, or with
someone else who has some knowledge of French; but I am not going
to run the risk of being recaptured by taking anyone with me who
cares so little for liberty that he grudges three or four hours'
work, a day, to get up the means of making his escape."
"Oh, of course I shall learn," Ryan said pettishly. "You always get
your own way, Terence. It was so at Athlone: you first of all began
by asking my opinion, and then carried out things exactly as you
proposed, yourself. Learning the language is a horrid nuisance, but
I see that it has to be done."
"I expect, Dicky, you will have to make up as a woman. You see, you
are not much taller than a tallish woman."
"Well, that would be rather a lark," Ryan said; "only don't you
think I should be almost too good-looking for a French woman?"
"You might be that, Dicky. It is certainly a drawback. If I could
get hold of a good-sized monkey's skin, I might sew you up in it."
"A bear skin would be better, I should say," Dick laughed; "but I
don't think anyone would think that it was a real bear. I saw a
chap with one once, at Athlone: no man could open his mouth as wide
as that beast did; and as to its tongue, it would be four times as
long as mine. No, I think the woman idea would be best; but I
should have to shave very close."
"Shave!" Terence repeated, scornfully. "Why, I could not see any
hair on your face with a magnifying glass. If that were the only
drawback, the matter could be arranged without difficulty."
Without farther adventure, they crossed the mountains and came down
to Bayonne. At each halting place where French troops were
stationed, the British prisoners were received with warm
hospitality by them, when they learned from their comrades that the
British had fought side by side with the French against the
guerillas, and had saved them from what might have been a very
serious disaster. The French shook hands with them warmly, patted
them on the shoulders, with many exclamations of "Braves garcons!"
and they were led away to cafes, and treated as the heroes of the
day, while the officers were entertained by those of the garrison.
At Bayonne they and their escort parted on the most cordial terms,
the French exclaiming that it was a shame such brave fellows should
be held as prisoners; and that they ought to be released at once,
and sent back in a ship, with a flag of truce, to Portugal.
The major, after handing over the soldiers to the prison
authorities, took Terence and the other British officers to the
headquarters of the governor of the town; and introduced them to
him, giving him a lively account of the fight with the guerillas,
and the manner in which the prisoners, armed only with clubs and
the muskets of the soldiers no longer able to use them, had made
common cause with the French and, joining them in the sortie,
defeated the Spanish with heavy loss. The governor expressed,
courteously, his thanks to the officers for the part they had
taken.
"I shall forward Major Marcy's report to headquarters, gentlemen,
and shall be happy to give you the liberty of the town on parole. I
have no doubt that, if no other good comes of your adventure, you
will be placed among an early list of officers to be exchanged."
"I am very much obliged to you, general," Terence said, "but I and
Lieutenant Ryan would prefer not to give our parole. I don't say we
are likely to make our escape but, at any rate, we should like to
be able to take any opportunity, if we saw one."
The general smiled.
"Of course, it must be as you like, sir; but I think that you are
wrong. However, at any time, if you like to change your minds, I
will give instructions to the officer in command of the prison to
release you, immediately you give your parole not to leave the
town."
The matter had been talked over on the march, and the others now
expressed their willingness to give their parole. They had told
Terence they thought he was wrong, and that it would be impossible
to make an escape, as it would be necessary to traverse either the
whole of Spain or the whole of France before he could find any
means of rejoining the army; and that, before long, they might be
exchanged.
"I don't think there is a prospect of an early exchange," Terence
said. "There cannot have been many prisoners taken, during this
short campaign; and I don't suppose there will be any talk of
exchanges, for some time to come. I am particularly anxious to get
back again, if I possibly can, as I am afraid that my regiment will
be broken up; and that, unless I get back before the campaign
begins in spring, I shall not get the command again. So I mean to
get away, if I can. Anyhow, I would just as soon be in prison as
walking about the streets of Bayonne. So I have quite made up my
mind not to give my parole."
The officers all returned to the prison quarters assigned to them;
the difference being that those on parole could go in and out as
they chose, and could, at will, take their meals in the town; while
Terence and Ryan were placed together in a room, with a sentry at
the door, whose instructions were to accompany them whenever they
wished to go beyond the door and to walk in the prison yard, or on
the walls surrounding it.