*CHAPTER XXIX*
*French Leave*
Overtures--Capitulation--Prisoners of War--Colonel de Ferrusat--InTudela--Personally Conducted--Adding Insult to Injury--Quos ego--Beforea Fall--Out of Bondage
Meeting midway down the street, the officers courteously saluted eachother.
"I come with a flag of truce, Senor," said the Frenchman in very badSpanish.
"I understand French, monsieur," replied Jack with a slight smile, whichthe other returned. The Frenchman continued, speaking now in French:
"Marshal Lannes has given the order to cease fire, and has sent anaide-de-camp into the town to discuss terms of capitulation."
It was impossible not to feel an unutterable sense of relief. But Jackgave no sign of it to the Frenchman.
"Can you give me any particulars?" he said.
"Yes, monsieur, certainly. Last night General Palafox sent hisaide-de-camp to ask our marshal for a three days' truce, and askingimpossible terms. These, of course, were refused, and the fighting wasresumed. But your people seem now to be more amenable to reason, and,to tell you the truth, monsieur, I have great hopes that this veryafternoon the end of this most lamentable siege will come. It is, ofcourse, impossible and useless for your people to continue thestruggle."
"That, monsieur, is a matter for our general to determine."
"Allons, allons, monsieur! You have made a brave defence, but you arebeing driven in at all points, and it can only be a matter of a fewhours before we capture your whole city."
"I can only speak for myself, monsieur," said Jack quietly; "but it isnow nearly three weeks since I had the honour to be appointed to thisquarter. I am now, monsieur, where I was then."
The French officer smiled, and bowing, half-ceremoniously,half-humorously, said:
"Pardon my oversight. Permit me, monsieur, to offer my congratulationsto a so gallant foe."
After an exchange of courtesies, Jack returned to his men, who hadwatched the scene with mingled excitement and distrust.
"Hombres," he said, "a truce is proclaimed. There will be no morefighting for the present."
"Thank God!" exclaimed Juanita. "That means that we shall capitulate atlast."
"Capitulate!" cried Santiago Sass. "Never, hombres! To the Aljafferiapalace with me! Never will we surrender--never! never!"
But none followed him save Tio Jorge. No sooner had he gone than atremendous explosion occurred near the University. Some French engineerofficers, who had not heard of the cessation of hostilities, exploded amine, and the jet of stones ascended to such a height that it wasvisible to the whole town. Crowds of people rushed towards theAljafferia palace, crying for vengeance on the treacherous French, anddemanding that the French envoy, at that moment in consultation with theJunta, should be instantly put to death. He was only saved from beingtorn in pieces, by the intervention of some Spanish officers with drawnswords, and by a message from the French marshal expressing regret forthe unfortunate accident. Marshal Lannes' message to the Junta wasperemptory. He allowed two hours for deputies to be sent him with fullpowers to arrange a capitulation. The news was brought to Jack by TioJorge, whose weather-beaten face was expressive of the deepestdejection.
The interval was spent in anxious suspense. Juanita went from one toanother of Jack's wounded men, doing all that was possible to ease theirsufferings. It was her tender ministry that soothed the last moments ofbig Jorge Arcos, who was past recovery, and who died breathing words ofthankfulness.
Later in the evening Jack learnt the result of the negotiations. TheSpanish deputies had again tried to extort impossible terms from MarshalLannes, but his most effective reply was to unroll before them a plan ofhis mines, from which they saw that the centre of the city was inimminent danger of being blown to atoms. After this the discussion wasshort. Jack had to inform his gallant but exhausted men that thegarrison was to march out next morning and deliver up their arms. Allwho would not take the oath of allegiance to King Joseph were to be sentas prisoners to France. He pointed out that the terms were on the wholelenient. The French knew how to respect a brave enemy. And he did notfail to impress upon the men that, so far as they personally wereconcerned, they could always remember that nowhere else throughout thecity had the defence been more stoutly maintained or more successful.This recollection would sweeten whatever was bitter in the surrender.
When the men had accepted the inevitable, and the quarter had settleddown, Jack found time for a serious consultation with Juanita. Now thather aunt was dead, there was nothing to fetter her movements. Jack hadfound a number of respectable farming people who would return, after thecapitulation, to their homes in the direction of Calatayud, and hadarranged that Juanita should accompany them. He explained to Pepitowhat was required of him--that he should go with the Senorita, and neverleave her except at her own command. Once more he assured Juanita thatwithin a week, by hook or by crook, he would rejoin her. Then, late atnight, he accompanied her back to her lodging, and took leave of her ina spirit of unbounded hopefulness.
Next morning the last scene of this great siege was enacted. Atdaybreak all the posts around the city were occupied by the French. Atnoon the French troops were drawn up in order of battle on the Aragonroad, holding lighted matches in readiness to prevent any attempt of theSpaniards to break loose. Then the garrison marched out. Jack neverforgot the sad and touching spectacle. With Don Cristobal and otherofficers he stood, under guard of a detachment of the 5th Legerregiment, near the Portillo Gate, and witnessed the whole scene as themixed column, soldiers and peasants, defiled past. It was a motleycrowd. There were young and old, some in uniform, others in peasantrags. Even the most ragged had tried to smarten up their appearance bytying bright-coloured sashes round their waists. Their large roundhats, surmounted with feathers, and their brown ponchos flung over theirshoulders, made their very tatters picturesque. Their pale emaciatedfeatures were scorched, and scarred with wounds. Many had long blackmatted beards. All had been so much weakened by disease and privationthat they could scarcely stagger along under the weight of theirweapons. Some were smoking cigarillos, and affecting an air of proudindifference to their fate; others took no pains to conceal their rage,but ground their teeth and glared out of their gleaming haggard eyes atthe enemy they had withstood so long. Women and children were mingledwith them, and these wept bitterly, and, flinging themselves on theirknees before the effigy of Our Lady in the gate, prayed for solace intheir affliction. The whole population numbered but 15,000 souls;nearly four times that number had perished during the two months of thesiege.
The scene was closed by the warriors delivering up their arms and flags,many of them then being unable to refrain from tears and violent criesof rage and despair. Within the city the victorious French had now begunto plunder the houses and churches of all the valuables left in them.At the Aljafferia Castle, Palafox, ill as he was, had been brutallytreated by a French colonel, appointed temporary governor of Saragossa.Jack learnt long afterwards that even before the brave captain-generalhad recovered from his illness he was carried off to France, whereNapoleon, instead of treating him as a prisoner of war, with thegenerosity due to a chivalrous foe, chose to regard him as a traitor,and kept him for several years a captive in the gloomy keep of theChateau of Vincennes.
Jack himself was more fortunate. Along with Don Cristobal and otherofficers he fell at first into the more kindly hands of the captain whohad brought him the flag of truce. He remained in the French camp fortwo days after the capitulation, and was able to assure himself thatJuanita had got safely away. Meanwhile the main body of the garrisonhad already been put in motion for France. On the 23rd Jack's own turncame. He took a friendly farewell of the French captain who had beenresponsible for him, and who was in entire ignorance that he had anEnglishman, not a Spaniard, to deal with. His last sight of Saragossawas made terrible by a scene he witnessed as he set out among a largecompany o
f officers and men, defenceless prisoners. They passed a spotwhere two Spaniards in priests' robes stood upright against a wall,opposite a firing-party of French. As the volley rang out, Jackrecognized the victims of this act of cold-blooded murder; they were DonBasilio Bogiero and Santiago Sass.
Monsieur le Colonel Hilaire Maxime Lucien de Ferussat, of the 121stregiment of the line, felt pardonably annoyed when he found that hiscorps, or what remained of it, had been selected, with another ofMorlot's regiments, to escort the Spanish prisoners to Bayonne. Theduty involved hard marching, and brought no glory, and Glory, as he wasnever tired of declaiming at his mess-table, was the sole object forwhich every true Frenchman should live and die. He had notdistinguished himself very greatly in the operations of the siege;indeed it was whispered among his fellow-officers, who did not love him,that his selection for the escort duty was by no means a mark of MarshalLannes' favour. He himself, however, seemed quite unconscious ofeverything except that he had a grievance in being thus shunted for someweeks off the highroad to fame, and, as was only to be expected, thewretched prisoners in his charge bore the brunt of his displeasure.They were physically incapable of prolonged marches, but that wasnothing to monsieur le colonel. He was determined to reach Bayonne assoon as possible. He played the drover with the unfortunate Spaniards,and many of them succumbed to fatigue and illness on the road. The menof his escort, adopting his attitude, and themselves resenting therapidity of the march after all their hardships, were in no mood tospare the wretches committed to their charge, and many a prod with thebutt-end of a musket, or the more lethal bayonet, quickened the steps oflaggards until they could endure no longer, but dropped and died.
Mounted on a fine Andalusian charger, Colonel de Ferussat rode up anddown the line, roundly abusing the non-commissioned officers of hisparty whenever he saw any tendency to straggling among the prisoners.
"Peste!" he said to one sergeant, in charge of a herd of some 200miserable skeletons; "if you value your chevrons you will step out morebriskly. No more of this lagging, or, saprelotte! I'll reduce you." Amoment or two later he turned to the captain of a company: "How long,monsieur le capitaine," he cried, "how long do you propose to spend inherding these pigs of Spaniards? Your men are dawdling as if they weresweethearting in the Bois."
Such remarks caused a quickening all along the column until the lostground was made up. With such a commander it was not surprising thatthe men took short measures to save themselves trouble. Many a prisonerwho found the pace too fast, and sank down with a groan, was sparedfurther suffering. One bullet was usually enough.
Late in the afternoon of the second day after leaving Saragossa, Colonelde Ferussat's column wound its way into Tudela, a place held in bittermemory by those of the prisoners who had formed part of Castanos' armyon the fatal 23rd of November. The scared inhabitants sullenlysubmitted to having the prisoners, with their guards, quartered uponthem. Every building of any pretensions was occupied; but the smallerhouses were left, for monsieur le colonel had a wholesome dread ofscattering his men too widely.
Colonel de Ferussat took up his quarters in the Plaza de Toros. Hischagrin was somewhat mollified when he found that under the same roofwas lodged no less a personage than General Chabot, who was on his waysouthward to rejoin his division, operating under General Gouvion deSaint-Cyr in Catalonia. The colonel thought a good deal of generals,for did he not expect to be a general himself some day? When,therefore, on entering the house, he found General Chabot himselflolling at ease, his coat thrown open and his jack-boots unlaced, hesaluted with an air of unction, and prepared to make himself amiable.
"Bonsoir, monsieur le general!" he said, sweeping his plumed hat at aradius of a yard.
"Bonsoir, colonel!" responded the general. "En route for France, Ipresume?"
"Yes, monsieur le general, and with the most paltry set of prisoners aFrench officer ever had. As scarecrows they'd disgrace any farmer'sfield in La Beauce."
"Ah! I had heard from some of your predecessors on the road about theend of the siege. I wonder at such a rabble being able to hold out solong."
"Rabble indeed, monsieur le general. But there! what are Spaniards butrabble! If you had only seen them three months ago, when the marshalwhipped them at this very spot!"
"You were at the battle, colonel?"
"Ma foi!" ejaculated the colonel, "I was indeed present on that amusingday."
"I shall be glad to hear something of the fight--if you can spare time,colonel."
"You honour me by the request. Would you care to ride over the fieldwith me? We have time before it is dark."
"Certainly; I shall understand the details so much the more clearly if Isee the actual site."
In a few minutes the two officers were riding side by side over thebattle-field, on which many grim tokens of the struggle lay scattered.Striking into the road that led from the village in a south-westerlydirection, between olive groves and stone fences, they passed the hillof Santa Quiteria, where the Spanish centre, under San March andO'Neill, had been so cleverly outflanked by Maurice Mathieu, and arrivedat length at Cascante, the extreme left of the Spanish position, whereLa Pena, with characteristic stupidity, had remained inactive throughoutthe fight. Then, retracing their course, they turned to the left, androde past the spot where Colbert had held his cavalry until the pursuitbegan. Leaving Tudela on their right, they came within sight of theCerro de Santa Barbara, where Roca had been so brilliantly outmanoeuvredby General Morlot.
General Chabot had been so eager to obtain a comprehensive view of thewhole scene of action that he had set a quick pace, which the colonelfound rather discommoding to his rotundity. But he bore it all withouta murmur, for he was deeply imbued with the importance of payingbecoming deference to the higher powers. He was, however, somewhatblown and heated when he pulled up at a large house near the Ebro,commanding an excellent view of the Cerro de Santa Barbara and thecountry whence Morlot had delivered his attack. Round two sides of thehouse ran a veranda, the roof being supported by light pillars restingon a low balustrade. Beneath the veranda stood a group of Spanishofficers. They had just marched in, and were awaiting the preparationof the interior of the building, which was being got ready for them. Asentry with fixed bayonet was stationed at the corner of the veranda,and a squad of some twenty men had piled arms in the open plaza beyond.An equal number of Frenchmen were inside the house.
"A capital horse of yours, colonel!" said the general admiringly, asthey reined up just outside the balustrade. "Mine is wheezing a little,you observe, while yours is hardly breathed."
"It is an excellent beast indeed," panted De Ferussat, with a gratifiedsmile. "I got it from a ridiculous old Spanish nobleman at Pamplona,months ago--at a low figure, I assure you; hi! hi! But look, monsieurle general, it was out there"--he pointed towards the Ebro--"that wefirst came in touch with these cowardly curs of Spaniards."
He made no attempt to moderate his voice. Every word was clearlyaudible to the gaunt group in the veranda, and some of them looked witha glare of impotent rage at the ill-mannered officer. As if to obtain aclearer view of the field he edged his horse up to the balustrade, andcontinued his narrative.
"There were about 50,000 of them, but we had at least half that number,so that there was not much doubt of the issue. The more Spaniards inthe field, monsieur le general, the more there are to run away. Hi!hi!"
He laughed, a harsh grating cackle of satisfaction that made several ofthe Spaniards behind him turn livid with wrath. General Chabot, to whomhis remarks were ostensibly addressed, seemed ill at ease. Like most ofNapoleon's lieutenants, he was a rough-and-ready soldier, but he at anyrate had a genuine Frenchman's respect for a gallant foe, and he wasreluctant to connive, even tacitly, at De Ferussat's gross insult tohelpless prisoners. But, all unconscious of the contempt with which hissuperior officer was beginning to regard him, the colonel continued:
"Our division, you observe, was posted behind the Cerro de Santa Barbarayo
nder. There were thousands of Spaniards on the summit. Behold howsteep the slope! Imagine their marvellous bravery! Ma foi, monsieur,but courage is indeed magnificent at the top of a hill! Hi! hi! Theyplumed themselves that we could not get at them. But mark, monsieur legeneral, that was a mistake--oh! trifling, but a mistake all the same.Why? There were French at the bottom. I was there, monsieur. To meturns General Morlot, and says: 'De Ferussat, mon ami, your battalionwill take that hill.' A word--parbleu! and at a word the thing is done.Do you see, monsieur le general, that narrow cleft on the hillside?Voila! That is where we climbed up, I and my men." The general glancedsomewhat incredulously at the protuberant figure beside him. "It wasunguarded, and before the Spaniards knew what was happening, behold! weare upon them. A few minutes, then pouf!--General Roca's division ispouring past the spot where we are now standing, squeezing through thestreets of the city on to the Saragossa road. Farther to the leftyonder, General Lefebvre-Desnouettes--alas that he is now aprisoner!--broke the enemy's centre with his cavalry; and presto! theother Spanish generals were kissing the heels of Roca's braves, off toSaragossa. Tredame! how these Spaniards can run when there is a Frenchbayonet behind them! It was laughable, truly a comedy, a farce. Ilaugh always when I think of it. Hi! hi!"
Colonel de Ferussat's recollections had once more overcome his gravity;but the first strident notes of his cackle had barely had time tolacerate the ears of the prisoners when there was a slight commotionbehind him. Even while his mouth was agape he felt a powerful grip uponhis collar, and in a twinkling he was turning a complete somersault fromthe saddle to the balustrade, and thence to the floor of the veranda.While he had been delivering himself of his double-edged reminiscences ayoung Spanish officer, unobtrusively detaching himself from the group,had moved quietly to within striking distance of the sentry on guard,who was listening with open-mouthed appreciation. Disposing of him witha single knock-down blow, the officer had leapt upon the balustrade andhurled the fat colonel from his seat.
As De Ferussat rebounded from the balustrade, his steed, naturallynervous at this unusual experience, started aside, and the reins werejerked from the Frenchman's grip. In an instant the young officer threwhimself into the vacant saddle, and as the horse, now thoroughlyalarmed, dashed madly forward, its new rider just succeeded in graspingthe reins short at the neck, and clung to his seat by the sheer musculargrip of his knees.
The whole incident had passed rapidly, but General Chabot, with thereadiness of an old campaigner, bent forward to clutch the near rein ofthe maddened horse. His own horse swerving at the critical moment, hemissed his grip and himself almost overbalanced, and though he at oncespurred his charger into a gallop, endeavouring to unbutton the holsterscontaining his pistols, the fugitive had gained at least twenty yardsbefore the pursuer's horse settled into its stride.
Jack almost shouted with glee as he lay forward on his horse's neck andgot his feet into the stirrups, expecting every moment that a hail ofbullets would come flying after him. But, hearing the clatter of thegeneral's horse behind, he lifted himself and laughed, and began to huma song he remembered Shirley was fond of:
"Oh, who will o'er the downs so free, Oh, who will with me ride, Oh, who will up and follow me--"
The general was up and following him, but he cared nothing for that.Not a shade of misgiving crossed his exultation. While the generalpursued him he was safe. The group of French soldiers in the square hadrushed to their arms, but were unable to fire, for General Chabot wasbetween them and the fugitive. Colonel de Ferussat, purple to the vergeof apoplexy, was spluttering with rage and pain, intensified by theevident delight of the Spanish officers, who, forgetting that they werein the man's power, were openly laughing at him. In the street,meanwhile, soldiers and civilians alike cleared out of the way of thedashing horsemen, not realizing at first what had happened. When theydid understand, Jack was beyond their reach. He could not stop tochoose his course. He urged his steed straight along the road, out atthe north gate of the town, into the country of vineyard and olivegrove, gaining on his pursuer, even steadying his horse somewhat when hefound that the beautiful and spirited animal had the heels of thegeneral's charger. Chabot must have recognized this, but with doggedpertinacity he held on for nearly two miles, only desisting from thechase when he found that his horse was failing. Then he discharged hispistol; the shot flew wide. Jack turned on the saddle and swept off hissombrero in ironical salutation; and as the Frenchman drew rein, Jackjogged the heaving flanks of his steed with his spurless boots, andcantered gaily off into the dusk.