the grey palisades, the gloomy court, and muffled-up sentinels appeared
more sombre in the dull red light of the sun, which, like a crimson
globe, seemed resting on the eastern summits of the Pyrenees, and
struggling to show its face through the masses of dun clouds which
floated across the sky. The tri-coloured standard of the emperor was
drooping on the summit of the keep, and the guard were under arms as the
prisoners entered the gate. These consisted principally of Spaniards
and Portuguese; there were a few British soldiers, but Louis was the
only officer,--and a very discontented one he seemed, as he looked
forward with considerable repugnance to a long imprisonment in France.
As they halted and formed line in the court of the fortress, Lisle was
somewhat surprised to hear himself accosted in Spanish by an officer,
who, muffled in a large military cloak, came from the keep. He
recognised his friend of Aranjuez, the father of Donna Virginia,--the
same traitorous Spanish noble who now openly served Buonaparte; and as
commandant of a French garrison wore a staff-uniform embroidered with
oak-leaves. Lisle thought of Virginia,--indeed he never thought of
aught else: and veiling his dislike to the duke, he answered him as
politely as possible. He would fain have asked after the fair donna,
but feared to arouse the keen and ready suspicions of the proud and
pompous Spaniard, while so completely within his power. The duke
behaved to him coldly but courteously; and, after receiving his parole
of honour that he would not transgress the bounds of the chatelet,
invited him to dinner, and retired.
Louis was now his own master, with leave to perambulate as much as he
chose the court-yard and palisades of the out-works, while the sentries
from every nook and corner kept sharp eyes upon him, and often, when he
attempted to pass their posts, barred the way with ported arms, and
saying, "Pardon me, monsieur, you must not pass;" but with a softness of
tone and politeness of manner, very different from what those of a
British sentinel would be on a similar occasion.
The hours passed slowly away, and Louis began to feel very disconsolate,
and very impatient of the monotony and restraint of a prisoner's life,
forming as it did so strong a contrast to the heart-stirring excitement
of campaigning. As it was contrary to their orders, the sentinels could
not converse with him, and in truth his French was none of the best; so
he passed the time in sauntering dismally about until the sun began to
verge westward, and he knew that the dinner-hour was approaching. In
the mean time, he wiled away the hours as well as he could, by whistling
a march, humming a waltz, or tossing pebbles and fragments of lime from
the ramparts to raise circles and bubbles in the Nive, which swept round
an angle of the rocks on which the fortress stood. These employments he
varied by watching with an intense interest the distant Pyrenees, in
hopes to see the far away glitter of arms announce the approach of the
allies, whose troops he knew to be in that direction. The eagerness of
his glance towards Spain did not escape the observation of messieurs the
sentries of the 105th; and they twirled their moustaches and regarded
each other with a truly French smile of hauteur and complaisance, as
they strode briskly to and fro on their posts; and one young man,
pointing towards the Lower Pyrenees, remarked to him significantly with
a smile, "_Ce pays sent lapoudre a canon, monsieur!_"[*]
[*] Literally, "this place, or country, smells of gunpowder, sir."
About four o'clock in the afternoon (an early hour in 1813) dinner was
announced, and Lisle was ushered into an ancient hall, roofed with oak
and floored with stone, but in no way very magnificent. There he was
received by the duke and his daughter, Virginia, who, having heard of
her _friend's_ arrival, was dressed with unusual care to receive him;
her woman had been occupied two good hours in arranging the massive
braids of her glossy hair in a way to please their coquettish owner. A
few officers of the French regiment were present, and Louis could have
dispensed with their presence very well. He felt jealous at the very
sight of them, as they were all handsome fellows, chevaliers of the
Legion and many other orders. Besides, a Frenchman makes love as no
other man does, and a douce Scot is certainly no match for him in
volubility of words and laughter. There was a Spaniard present, who,
although not greatly gifted with personal attractions, appeared to pay
so much attention to Virginia, that Lisle cursed him in his heart for
his impudence, and began to form plans for calling him to a severe
account for his presumption.
Like the duke, this unworthy hidalgo was a renegade, and had been
created by Joseph Buonaparte Count of Aranjuez, and Colmenare de Orija,
and knight of the Stole,--an ancient order instituted by the kings of
Arragon. He greeted Lisle coldly enough. They had met before at
Aranjuez, where he bore the name of Felix Joaquin, of the order of
Calatrava; for true Spaniards refused to acknowledge the titles he bore
from the usurper's hand. The donna behaved with the same affability to
him as to the other guests, being unwilling to let him perceive that she
understood his attentions; but the delight of Louis at again beholding
her and conversing with her, was clouded by chagrin and anger. He soon
became aware that the open and intrusive attentions of the _ci-devant_
conde were licensed by the approbation of the old duke.
The dinner passed over quietly enough. Military matters were avoided by
all but one little Gascon major, who found it impossible to refrain from
detailing to Lisle, with evident exultation, an account of Soult's
forcing the passes of Maya and Roncesvalles on the 25th July,--affairs
from which, if the numerical force on each side is considered, but very
little honour accrues to France. Encouraged by the applause of his own
officers, who were evidently quizzing him, the little Gascon entertained
the company with an account of his own particular exploits at Maya,
where, by his own tale, he had three horses shot under him. One
anecdote did not fail to interest Lisle. He stated, that on a party of
a Scots regiment, (_sans culottes_,) who hurled large stones on the
105th, he took terrible vengeance, by mounting the rock, which they
possessed, and putting them to death with his own hand!
"_Sacre!_" said he, as he concluded, "_Sauve qui peut_ was the word; but
not one of the fierce _sans culottes_ escaped!"
Donna Virginia said she would excuse the major his ungenerous triumph,
as she believed these were the greatest victories the French had ever
won in Spain. The duke frowned; the count would have done so too, had
gallantry permitted him; the little major looked big, and twirled up his
moustaches; while his subs, like well-bred cavaliers, laughed as in duty
bound at the young lady's retort. On Lisle inquiring for Donna Olivia,
Virginia blushed, and tears glittered in her dark eyes; while her father
replied coldly that she had retired to a convent in Galicia, but did not
add that it was to the _monasterio de los Arrepentidas_, he had so
ruthlessly consigned her.
As soon as dinner was over, Virginia withdrew, and cigars, wine, and
gaming-tables were introduced. The duke and his intended son-in-law sat
down to chess, at which they were as great enthusiasts as the celebrated
Don Pedro Carrera[*] himself, while the Frenchmen took to trictrac, and
quickly became absorbed in all the mystery of _tour a bas--tour d'une_,
&c. &c.; but Lisle, who had neither money nor inclination to gamble,
begged to be excused, and withdrew, receiving as he retired a keen
glance from the count, to whom he replied by another of contempt, for
rivals soon discover each other. Louis again returned to his solitary
promenade on the lower works of the fortress, and continued to pace
among the cannon and pyramids of shot which lined the stockades, until
he heard his name called, and by a voice which he should have known
amongst ten thousand. "Luiz! Don Luiz!"
[*] A Spaniard, who in 1617 published a treatise on the origin of chess,
carrying its antiquity back to the era of the Trojan war.
"Virginia!" cried he; and springing to the grated loop at the base of
the keep, he kissed the little hand she extended towards him.
"Retire now, senor," said she.
"Ah, why so soon?" said Louis. "But you must not senor me,--it sounds
so distant."
"_Mi querida_, then."
"Ah! that is better. Dear Virginia!" and he kissed her hand again. It
was indeed such a hand as one would never tire of holding. So tiny, and
so delicate,--and set off by the handsome black bracelet round the
slender wrist. "Why would you leave me so soon, Virginia?" said he,
gazing on her beautiful Spanish features. "It is long,--very long since
we last met!"
"Only a few months, Luiz; and yet the time does appear very long. But
we may be observed; these sharp-sighted French _soldados_ keep guard on
every nook and corner, and my father may hear that I have met you."
"He is busy over the chess-board; and no Frenchman would spoil pleasure
such as ours."
"I must indeed leave you. Alas! I am not so free here as at pleasant
Aranjuez."
"Hear me, before you go,--but one word, Virginia?"
"Well, then,--one only."
"Who is this Don Felix,--this Count of Aranjuez?"
"You have spoken a dozen, and broken your covenant."
"Who is he?"
"One of whom we had better beware. He is no more a Count than the
_tambour_ passing yonder with his drum on his back; but he is as false
at heart as ever was Rodriguez, or the Counts of Carrion."
"He is very attentive to you."
"He is very troublesome,--_Santa Maria!_ a perfect nuisance. But my
father favours him, and as his wrath is terrible, I am forced to
dissemble. But, ah! retire now, Don Luiz, I beseech you!"
Don Luiz was too much enraptured and bewildered to obey; and putting in
his arm, he encircled and drew her close to the bars of the loop-hole,
through which he pressed his glowing lip to her own. She yielded to him
passively.
"O senor!"
"Senor again! Ah! these infernal bars, Virginia," he exclaimed. But
releasing herself from his grasp, she glided away with the lightness of
a fairy, and he saw her no more that night. But there was something so
delightful in being near Virginia, and living under the same roof with
her, that his feelings underwent an entire change before night closed
in, and he looked less anxiously towards the distant positions of Lord
Wellington's army on the Pyrenees, and the aspect of his prison appeared
less dismal and desolate. The presence of Virginia cast a halo over
every thing; and new feelings of love, hope, and pleasure began to dawn
in his heart.
They met daily, almost hourly indeed, because in the narrow compass of a
fortress or barrack, people encounter each other at every turn and
corner; and some weeks passed away with a pleasure to Louis, which
nothing seemed to cloud but the chance that Marshal Soult might order
the prisoners in the chateau to be conveyed farther into the interior of
the country, as vague rumours were afloat that the allied army was about
to descend from the mountains and invade France. It was only from the
casual observations of the French officers, at whose mess he often
dined, that Lisle was able to gather any political intelligence, but
that something warlike was expected appeared evident. The garrison of
the chateau was strengthened by a company of chasseurs, additional works
were erected, and scarcely a day passed without French troops being seen
on the march southward; and it was only when Lisle beheld the clouds of
dust and flash of steel appearing on the distant roads, that he felt
himself indeed a prisoner, and all the disagreeable nature of his
situation came vividly upon his mind. But again he thought of Virginia,
and remembered that a single smile or a soft word from her were well
worth all the gloss and glitter of parade, the enthusiasm, the
excitement, and the glory of warfare.
Being the only officer among the prisoners, he always dined with the
duke, or at the temporary mess of the French. He preferred the former,
to be near Virginia, upon whom the _ci-devant_ count kept a jealous
eye,--the penetration of which it required all the young lady's art to
baffle; while, at the same time, it required all her politeness and
good-nature to enable her to submit to his attentions, which were now
becoming, as she often declared to Louis, 'quite odious and
insufferable,' Her cavalier longed to horsewhip the Spanish traitor for
his presumption, and on more than one occasion would have given him a
morning's airing,--in other words, have 'called him out,' but for fear
of an _expose_, which he would rather avoid.
Besides, he had a deeper plot laid,--and another object in view. He
knew that Virginia dreaded the duke for his stern austerity, as much as
he himself despised him for his treason and falsehood to his native
country; and he hoped by overcoming her scruples, and prevailing upon
her to consent to a secret marriage, at once to free her from the
insolent perseverance of Don Felix Joaquin and the authority of her
father. He had resolved to await some change of circumstances, such as
the removal of the whole garrison further into France, or its being
strengthened by the arrival of more troops, as the revengeful
dispositions of the duke and Joaquin were to be dreaded while he
remained so much at their mercy as his situation of prisoner within the
narrow limits of the chatelet placed him. The near approach of the
allies had rendered the extension of his parole impossible; but he soon
learned that farther delay with time or circumstances was fraught with
danger, and that if he did not at once secure the hand of Virginia, he
might lose it for ever.
With a countenance indicative of much discomposure, and eyes red with
weeping, she appeared one evening at the grated loop-hole, where they
usually had a meeting alone after dusk. She had just come from an
interview with the duke, who being resolved to carry to the utmost the
authority assumed by Spanish papas, had abruptly commanded her to come
to a final arrangement with the mercenary conde, or prepare to join her
sister in the _monasterio_. Louis, who had been long wavering in his
plans, was at once decided by this information. He prevailed upon her
to consent to an elopement, and have that ceremony performed which would
place her beyond the power of her father and the views of Don Felix.
To taking such a step, a Spanish damsel has always felt less scruples
than a British, and with abundance of tears, fears, agitation, &c., the
donna gave her consent, and Lisle retired to arrange matters. The
greatest difficulty was the confounded parole of honour, which tied him
to the chateau.
In this dilemma he applied to his rival, the count, requesting him to
procure leave for him to visit Saint Palais for a day or two, pledging
himself solemnly to return within the given time. The Spaniard,
although detesting Louis Lisle in his heart, offered readily to befriend
him on this occasion--having two ends in view; first, to remove Lisle
from the presence of Virginia; and secondly to do so effectually, by
sending him to his long home by means of some of those continental
assassins, whose daggers are ever at the service of the highest bidder.
Through his interest the duke granted the leave, and long before break
of day Louis and the donna were clear of the fortress,--the duke's
written order satisfying the scruples of the sub commanding the
barrier-guard. At a village-inn hard by they procured horses, and took
the road direct for Cambo, where they hoped to find the _cure_ of the
village. The wily count had previously despatched two of his own
servants, Valencians,--rogues who would have sold their chance of
salvation for a maravedi,--to post themselves in ambush on the road
leading to Saint Palais, whither he believed Lisle to have gone, with
orders to shoot him dead the moment he appeared.
So full of joy was Don Felix at the expected revenge, that he found it
impossible to retire to rest, and continued to pace his chamber all
night. With the utmost exultation he heard the noise of his intended
victim's departure in the morning, while it was yet dark, and long ere
gun-fire. As the challenge of the sentinels and clang of the closing
gate echoed through the silent fortress the satisfaction of the Spaniard
increased, and he already imagined himself the master of Virginia's
broad lands on the Nive, and her rich estates in Valentia, _la Hermosa_;
and long he watched the road to Saint Palais, in hopes of seeing the
death-shot gleam through the darkness.
An hour elapsed, and he felt certain that the victim must have fallen
into the deadly snare; but his anxiety to behold the completion of his
plot would not permit him to delay an instant longer. Ordering a soldier
of the guard to saddle his horse, he stuck his pistols into his girdle,
drew his hat over his eyes, and muffling himself in his mantle, he rode
forth,--feeling the exhilarating influence of a gallop in the breezy
morning air infinitely agreeable, after a night of feverish excitement
and drinking in his close chamber. As he approached the spot where he
had placed the assassins in ambush, he hid his face in his mantle, and
rode more slowly forward, with a beating heart, scanning the roadway in
expectation of seeing the corse of his rival stretched upon it. But he
looked in vain! The winding road between the thickets was clear, and
appeared so for many a mile beyond. Enraged to a pitch of madness at
the idea of his escape, he dashed the rowels into his horse and galloped
on; when lo! two carbines flashed from adjacent thickets,--one on each
side of the way. A sudden exclamation of rage and agony escaped from
him; his horse reared up wildly, and pierced by a two-ounce bullet the
worthy Count of Aranjuez and Colmenare de Orija, knight of Calatrava and
the Stole, &c. &c. fell to the earth, and almost instantly expired.
While Don Felix fell thus into his own snare, his more fortunate rival,
with Donna Virginia, galloped along the bank of the Nive, pursuing the
road to Cambo, where they arrived about sunrise, and sought without
delay the house, or rather the cottage, of the village pastor. There
fresh obstacles arose, as the reverend gentleman pretended to have many
conscientious scruples about wedding a Catholic lady to a Briton and a
heretic. But a few gold Napoleons overcame his qualms, and he consented
to perform the important ceremony, with a description of which it is
needless to tire the reader. Louis had no ordinary task to accomplish,
in soothing the hesitation and terrors of Virginia, who was--
"Crimsoned with shame, with terror mute,
Dreading alike escape, pursuit;
Till love, victorious o'er alarms,
Hid fears and blushes in his arms."
There were no witnesses to the ceremony, so important to Louis and his
bride, save a stout villager and his wife, who declared that Donna
Virginia's black veil and velvet mantilla were contrary to all rule and
established custom, as white drapery, pure as the virgin snow, and a
coronet of white flowers and orange-buds, formed the bridal garb in
France. But there was no help for it, and the donna became the
Honourable Mrs. Lisle, in her high comb, braided hair, and long black
veil, which swept the ground. Louis now remembered his father, whose
existence he had almost forgotten in the excitement of the elopement;
but he well knew that his indulgent relative would pardon the hasty
union, considering the circumstances which urged it, and he longed for
the time when he should present to him, and to his sister Alice, his
beautiful Virginia, who, although the daughter of a traitor, was
descended from one of the noblest houses in Old Castile.
The bride was too much agitated to return immediately to the chateau,
and to encounter the wrath of that terrible old don her father, and so
they remained that night at the cottage of the pastor of Cambo.
Early next morning Louis was aroused from the couch of his bride by the
sound of French drums, near the village. He heard them rattling away at
_la bats de la retraite_ (the retreat); then succeeded the "long roll,"
a sound which never fails to rouse a soldier. The noise of distant
firing was heard, and he sprung from the side of the blushing and
trembling Virginia, and threw open the casement. It was a beautiful
morning: the sun shone brightly, and the birds chirped merrily; the dew
was gleaming like silver from the branches of the leafless trees; the
sky was clear and blue, and the bold outlines of the Pyrenees were seen
stretching far away in the distance towards Passages and Bayonne. Dense
columns of French infantry were crowding in confusion along the road
which led to the bridge of Cambo, while the sharp-shooters of the
advancing allies, hovering on their rear and flanks, kept up an
irregular but destructive fire, which their chasseurs, who lined every
wall and hedge, endeavoured to return.
Lisle saw that there was no time to be lost, if he would return to the
chateau. The discomfited French were pouring across the bridge of
Cambo, where a detachment of _sapeurs_ were busy at work, undermining
one of the piers. The main body of the allies were already in sight.
The green and scarlet uniforms of the light infantry were seen at
intervals, appearing and disappearing as they leaped from bush to hedge,
and from hedge to wall, firing, and then lying flat on their faces to
reload, and avoid the fire of the enemy. Mingled with other
sharp-shooters he beheld the light company of his own regiment, and knew
their tall green and black plumes as they floated on the morning wind.
Wistfully did Lisle look towards them, and it was with no ordinary
feelings of chagrin that he beheld his friends so near, and yet found
himself under the disagreeable necessity of returning to the chateau,
where he should be exposed to the insults and vengeance of an
intractable old Spaniard, to whom he now stood in the relation of
son-in-law.
Virginia, who was excessively terrified by the noise of the firing,
which was now heard around Cambo on all sides, and not less alarmed at
the rage and disorder which prevailed among the retreating French, with
tears and caresses besought Louis to remain unseen in the little cottage
of the curate, until the allies gained possession of the village. But
that resolve was impossible. His word was pledged to her father, and he
must return--even at the risk of certain death. He prepared without
delay to cross the river. On entering the stable to caparison their
horses, he found that the worthy pastor had decamped in the night,
taking them with him, and every thing of any value,--leaving only a
stubborn old mule. Venting a bitter malediction on the thief, Lisle
tied a halter to the long-eared steed, and led him forth into the yard,
just as the gate was dashed open by the French, whose rear-guard had
commenced plundering and destroying the houses, to leave no shelter to
the allies, who were now become invaders of France.
On beholding his red uniform and plumed bonnet, two charged him with
their bayonets, which he had barely time to parry with a hay-fork that
he hurriedly snatched up. They called upon him to surrender, and he
found himself in imminent peril. Virginia was crying aloud from the
interior of the cottage for aid, which it was impossible to yield her,
as he was hemmed against the bayonets of a dozen soldiers. From this
disagreeable predicament he was relieved by the interference of an
officer, who exclaiming, "_Redressez vos armes, messieurs!_" struck down
their bayonets with his sabre, and compelled them to retire. He then
asked Louis sternly how he came there? Louis informed him, as briefly
and as well as his imperfect knowledge of French would permit, that he
was a prisoner of war on his parole of honour, and was only desirous of
crossing the Nive with the French forces. He prayed the Frenchman, as
an officer and _gentilhomme_, to rescue the lady, who was now crying
aloud for assistance. The officer sheathed his sabre, and rushing into
the cottage among the soldiers who thronged it, returned in a minute
with Virginia, who was all tears and agitation, leaning on his right
arm, while, with true French politeness, he carried his weather-beaten
cocked-hat under his left. He relieved poor Lisle from a state of
dreadful suspense, by placing her under his protection. She was nearly
terrified out of her senses, and that she might not be subjected to
farther insult, the officer ordered a _caporal brevete_ with a file of
soldiers, to attend them as a guard.