CHAPTER XVI.
FRIENDS AND ENEMIES.
Let us say, in a few words, what was the political situation of theancient viceroyalty of Buenos Aires at the moment when our historycommences.
Notwithstanding the royal decree of Jan. 22, 1809, declaring theprovinces of Spanish America an integral part of the monarchy, withequal rights to those of the other provinces of the metropolis, DonBaltazar de Cisneros, named viceroy, arrived with the title of Count ofBuenos Aires, and with the authority to receive an annual payment of100,000 reals.
Indignation, for a long time subdued, at last burst out.
A commission, at the head of which figured two devoted patriots, nameddon Juan Jose Castelli and don Manuel Belgrano, was instituted.
On the 14th of May, 1810, a deputation, composed of nearly 600 notablesof Buenos Aires, waited on the viceroy to invite him to abandon anauthority henceforth ridiculous and illegal, since it emanated from apower which no longer existed in Europe.
A Junta was formed which, after having proclaimed the abolition of theCour des Comptes, the impost on tobacco, and all dealings with theviceroy, sent an imposing force to Cordoba against General Liniers,French in origin, but devoted to the Spanish monarchy, which for a longtime he had served with eclat in America.
Liniers had succeeded in collecting a considerable army, supported by alittle squadron which, starting from Monte Video, had come to blockadeBuenos Aires.
Unhappily, this event, which was to save the royal cause, compromisedit in the most serious way.
The army of Liniers was disbanded; the greater part of the soldiersfell into the hands of the independent party. Moreno, Concha, andLiniers himself, met with the same fate.
The Junta, on learning this unlooked-for result of a campaign fromwhich so much was expected, resolved to strike a decisive blow, inorder to intimidate the partisans of the royal cause.
General Liniers was much loved by the people, for he had rendered themmany great services. They could have been saved and freed by him. Itwas necessary to avoid this misfortune.
Don Juan Jose Castelli consequently received the orders to go inadvance of the captives; he obeyed, and they met in the neighbourhoodof Mont Pappagallo.
Then there transpired a horrible scene, that history has justly brandedwith disgrace. Without form of trial, in cold blood, all the prisoners'throats were cut; the bishop of Cordoba alone was spared--not outof respect for his sacred office, but merely to flatter the popularprejudices.
Thus died, cowardly assassinated, General Liniers, a man to whom Francejustly boasts of having given birth, who rendered such great servicesto his adopted country, and whose name will everlastingly live onAmerican shores, by reason of his noble and splendid qualities.
A new storm burst over the independent party.
The viceroy of Peru sent, under the command of Colonel Cordoba, a corpsd'armee against the Buenos Aireans.
On the 7th November, the two parties met at Hupacha. After a sanguinaryfight, the royalists were conquered, and the greater part madeprisoners.
Castelli, who, we have seen, massacred Liniers and his companions, hadfollowed the royalist troops in their march. He did not wish to leavehis work incomplete: the prisoners were all shot on the field of battle.
The viceroy of Peru, dismayed by this disaster, asked a truce, whichthe Junta consented to accord to him.
But the struggle was far from ended. Spain was by no means disposedto abandon, without being constrained to do so by force of arms, themagnificent countries where, during a long time, her flag had peaceablyfloated, and from whence she derived immense riches; and, at the momentwhen our history recommences, the independence of the Buenos Aireanprovinces, far from being assured, was again seriously imperilled.
The subjects of the new power had not been long in entering into battlewith each other, and in sacrificing to their own miserably ambitiousviews the most sacred interests of their country, in inaugurating thatera of fratricidal war which is not yet finished, and which is leadingthese beautiful and rich territories to an inevitable ruin.
At the moment when we resume our recital, the Spanish party, for atime subdued, had raised their head again; the colonists, scarcelyemancipated, had never found themselves in so great danger of perishing.
The Spanish general, Pezuela, at the head of his experienced troops,made great progress in Peru. On the 25th November he gained a signalvictory at Viluma, had retaken Chuguisaca, Potosi, and Tunca; hisguards reached Cinti, and some squadrons of volunteer guerillas,partisans of Spain, ravaged almost with impunity the frontier of theprovince of Tucuman.
The situation was then most critical. The war had lost nothing of itsoriginal ferocity; each party appeared to be composed of brigandsthirsting for blood and pillage, rather than of brave soldiers orloyal patriots. The road was infested by people without abode, whoturned coats according to circumstances, and made war on the twoparties according to the exigencies of the moment. The Indians,profiting by these disorders, fished in troubled waters, and chased thewhites--royalists or insurgents.
Then, to put the finishing touch to so many misfortunes, a Brazilianarmy, ten thousand strong, commanded by General Lesort, had invadedthe province of Monte Video, which had been for a long time coveted byBrazil, and on which it hoped, favoured by the intestine dissensions ofthe Buenos Aireans, to seize almost without striking a blow.
It will be easily understood how precarious was the situation ofEuropean travellers, necessarily isolated in this country, not knowingeither the language or the manners of the people into whose midst theyfound themselves thrown, and thus cast unawares into the midst of thisrevolutionary whirlwind, which, like an African simoom, was pitilesslydevouring all with which it came in contact.
We shall now return to the two Frenchmen, whom we left carelesslystretched on the grass on the shore of the river, discoursing ofvarious matters.
The view of the second troop, discovered by the painter, had excitedto the highest degree the curiosity of his companion. Let us hasten tostate that this uneasiness was more than justified by the excessivelysuspicious appearance of the horsemen.
They were about fifty in number, well mounted, and armed to the teethwith long lances, sabres, poignards, and blunderbusses. These horsemenwere evidently Spaniards. Their features, bronzed by the sun and theair of the desert, indicated intelligence and bravery; there was inthem something of the haughty and determined bearing of the firstSpanish conquerors, from whom they descended in a direct line, withoutdegenerating. Still masters of a great part of the American territory,they did not admit that they could ever be chased from it by theindependent party, notwithstanding the victories gained by the latter.
Although riding at a gallop, they advanced in good order; their chestscovered with a cuirass of buffalo skin, intended to shield them fromthe Indian arrows, the lance fixed in the stirrup, the blunderbuss inthe bow, the turned sabre in the scabbard, knocking against the spurwith a metallic sound.
At ten paces in advance of the troop came a young man of haughty mien,of proud and noble features, with a full black eye, a sarcastic mouth,shaded by a fine black moustache, coquettishly oiled and turned up atthe ends.
This young man bore the insignia of a captain, and commanded thetroop which followed him. He was about twenty-five years of age;while galloping, he played, with a charming air, with his horse, amagnificent specimen of the untamed coursers of the pampa, who, whilespoken to and handled with the nervous delicacy of a woman, curvetted,leaped on one side, and sometimes brought a frown and an ill-humouredgrimace to the bronzed and battered countenance of an old sergeant, whowas galloping in the rear of the right of the company.
Meanwhile, the distance between the two troops rapidly diminished, andthe travellers found themselves, so to speak, the common centre of them.
The two Frenchmen, without saying a word, but as by common consent, hadput themselves in the saddle, and in the middle of the track waited,calm and dignified, but their hands on their weapons, a
nd doubtlessinwardly uneasy, although they did not wish to appear so.
The second troop, of which we have not yet spoken, was composed ofsome thirty horsemen at the most, all wearing the characteristic andpicturesque costume of the gauchos of the pampa. In the midst they leda dozen mules, loaded with baggage.
Arrived at fifteen paces from the travellers, the two troops halted,appearing to measure one another with their eyes, and mutuallypreparing for the combat.
To an indifferent spectator, certainly it would have been a strangespectacle offered by these three groups of men, thus boldly camped inthe midst of the desert plain, looking defiantly at each other, and,nevertheless, stationary, and appearing to hesitate to charge.
Some minutes passed by.
The young officer, no doubt wishing to bring affairs to a crisis, andwearied with a hesitation he did not appear to share, advanced, makinghis horse to caracole, and carelessly twirling his moustache.
Arrived at some five or six paces from the travellers:
"Hola, good people," said he, in a sardonic voice, "what do you dothere? With a frightened air like nandus in a covey altogether. You donot intend, I suppose, to bar our passage?"
"We have no pretensions of the kind, Senor Captain," answered M.Dubois, in the best Castilian he could manage--Castilian which,notwithstanding his efforts, was deplorable; "we are peaceabletravellers."
"iCaray!" cried the officer, turning round and laughing; "Whom have wehere; English, I suppose?"
"No, Senor; Frenchmen," said M. Dubois, with a somewhat nettled look.
"Bah! English or French, what matters?" pursued the officer, withraillery "They are all heretics."
At this manifestation of ignorance, the two travellers shrugged theirshoulders with contempt.
"What does that mean?" said the officer.
"Parbleu," answered the painter, "it means that you are deceivingyourself grossly, that is all. We are as good Catholics as you are, ifnot better."
"Aye, rye, you crow very loud, my young cock."
"Young," said the artist, with a sneer, "you are deceived there again;I am at least two years older than you; as to crowing, it is very easyto swagger and act the 'eater up of little children,' when you arefifty to two."
"Those people down there," pursued the officer, "are they not with you?"
"Yes, they are with us; but what matters that? In the first place, theyare inferior to you in number, and next, they are not soldiers."
"Agreed," answered the captain, twirling his moustache with a mockingsmile, "I grant you that; what do you wish to conclude from it?"
"Only this, Captain; that we Frenchmen bear insults with greatdifficulty, no matter where they come from; and that if we were onlyequal in numbers, this would not have happened."
"Aha, you are brave!"
"Pardieu; revenge is sweet."
"That is swagger also, it appears to me."
"It is an honourable boast."
"Listen," said the captain, after a moment, with exquisite politeness."I fear I have been deceived with regard to you, and I sincerely askyour pardon for it. I agree to give you free passage, and to those whoaccompany you, but on one condition."
"Let us have it!"
"You told me a little while ago that I should not speak as I did, had Inot believed I should be supported."
"I told you so, because I thought so."
"And you think so still, no doubt?"
"Pardieu!"
"Well, here is what I propose; we are both armed. Let us alight, drawour sabres, and he who shall conquer the other shall be free to act ashe thinks proper--that is to say, if it is you, you can pass on yourroad without fear of being molested, and if it is me, well, a generalbattle. Does that suit you?"
"Perfectly well," answered the painter, laughing.
"What are you going to do, Monsieur Emile?" cried the old man, briskly."Do you mean to expose yourself to great danger for a cause which intruth is indifferent to you, and only concerns me?"
"Come," said he, shrugging his shoulders, "are we not fellowcountrymen? Your cause is mine. Let me give a lesson to that Spanishbraggart, who imagines that Frenchmen are poltroons."
And, without wishing to hear more, he disengaged his foot from thestirrup, leaped to the ground, drew his sabre, and struck its point inthe earth, waiting the good pleasure of his adversary.
"But, at least, do you know how to fight?" cried M. Dubois, a prey tothe greatest anxiety.
"You are joking," said he, laughing. "Of what use would be thefive-and-twenty years' war that France has had, if her sons had notlearnt to fight? But make yourself easy," added he, seriously, "I havehad eighteen months' instruction in sword exercise, and learned towield the sabre like a hussar; moreover, we artists know this sort ofthing by instinct."
Meanwhile, the captain had also alighted, after having ordered histroop to remain spectators of the combat. The horsemen had shaken theirheads; they had, however, not made any remark, but the old sergeant, ofwhom we have spoken, and who, without doubt, enjoyed certain libertieswith his chief, took a few steps in advance, and thought proper tohazard a respectful protest.
The captain, without answering him, made him a mute gesture of acharacter so decided and imperious, that the worthy soldier steppedback quite snubbed, and resumed his former position without daring torisk a second remonstrance.
"Never mind," he grumbled, between his teeth, twirling his moustachewith a furious air; "if this heretic gets the best of it, whatever DonLucio may say, I know well what I shall do."
The young captain briskly alighted, and advanced towards his adversary,whom he saluted politely.
"I am fortunate," said he, graciously, "in the opportunity whichpresents itself of receiving from a Frenchman a lesson in fencing, foryou have the reputation of being a complete master in arms."
"Eh! Perhaps what you say is more true than you think, Senor," answeredthe painter, with a smile of raillery; "but if service fails ussometimes, goodwill never forsakes us."
"I am convinced of it, Monsieur."
"Whenever you please to commence, Captain, I am at your orders."
"And I at yours, Senor."
The two adversaries saluted one another with the sabre, and putthemselves on guard at the same moment, with perfect grace.
The sabre is, in our opinion, an arm too much disdained, and whichought, on the contrary, to have the preference over the sword in duels,as it has in battles.
The sabre is the true weapon of the military man--officer or soldier.The sword is, on the contrary, only an arm for a gentleman on parade,and is now assumed by persons who, for the most part, carry it at theirsides without knowing how to use it.
The sword is a serpent, its bite is mortal. It makes one liable, inusing it for a futile cause in a duel, to kill a brave man. The sabre,on the contrary, only makes large wounds which it is easy to heal, andwhich nearly always it is possible to graduate according to the gravityof the offence received, without risking the life of one's adversary.
The two men, as we have said, had put themselves on their guard. Afteranother bow, the combat commenced, and they exchanged a few passes,mutually feeling their way, as it were, and only using their weaponswith extreme prudence.
The Spanish officer was what may be called a good duellist. With asomewhat effeminate appearance, he had a wrist of iron and musclesof steel. His style of fencing was broad and elegant; he appeared tohandle his weapon, which was rather heavy, as if he had had a mere reedin his hand.
The style of the French painter was more compact, more nervous, hisblows, more unforeseen, and certainly more rapid.
However, the combat did not last long, before it was easy to see withwhom would rest the victory. On a sudden, the sabre of the captainleaped into the air, carried away as if by a sling, and fell at a greatdistance off.
The Frenchman darted off immediately, picked up his adversary's weapon,and presenting it to him:
"Pardon me, Senor," he said, "and be so good, I beg you, to re
sumea weapon which you use so well. I have only taken it from you bysurprise, and I remain at your orders."
"Senor," answered the captain, putting his sabre in the scabbard, "Ihave merited the lesson that you have given me. Ten times you have hadmy life in your hands without wishing to take advantage of it. Ourcombat is finished. I acknowledge myself vanquished, more even by yourcourtesy than by your skill in the management of arms."
"I do not admit, caballero," pursued the painter, "that any buttrifling credit is due to me for the advantage that chance alone hasgiven me over you."
"Go in peace, wherever it may appear good to you, as well as yourcompanions, Senor. You have no insult to fear from us; only I do notconsider myself quit of you. My name is Don Lucio Ortega, remember thatname. In any circumstances in which you may find yourself, if you haveneed of me, be it twenty years hence, boldly ask your old adversary andfriend."
"I really do not know how to thank you, Senor. I am but a poor Frenchpainter, named Emile Gagnepain; but if the opportunity ever presentsitself, I shall be happy to prove how much I value the sentiments ofgoodwill that you manifest towards me."
After this mutual exchange of courtesy, the two men mounted onhorseback.
The Spaniards remained motionless at the place where they firststopped, and they allowed to defile before them, without making theleast hostile movement, the little troop, at the head of which walkedside by side the two Frenchmen. When they passed before him, thecaptain exchanged a courteous salute with them, and then he gave histroop the order to depart. It darted off at a gallop, and before longhad disappeared in the meandering of the track.
"You have been more fortunate than wise," said M. Dubois, to his youngcompanion, when they had crossed the river, and had made the distancebetween them and the Spaniards rather considerable.
"Why so?" asked the painter, with surprise.
"Why, because you have risked being killed."
"My dear sir, in the country where we now are, we continually runthe risk of being killed. In leaving France, I have made a completeabnegation of my life, persuaded that I shall never again see mycountry. I therefore consider every moment which passes withoutbringing me misfortune as a favour done me by Providence; so that, mymind being made up, I do not attach the least value to an existencewhich at any moment can be taken from me under the first pretext thatturns up, and even, if need be, under the very slightest provocation."
"You have a rather strange philosophy."
"What can you expect? With the patriots, the royalists, the bandits,the Indians, and the wild animals that infest this country--blessed byHeaven as it is--it would be, in my opinion, folly to reckon on morethan four-and-twenty hours of existence, and to form projects for thefuture."
M. Dubois burst out laughing.
"Nevertheless," said he, "it is necessary for us to think a little ofthe future just now, if it be but to choose the place where we shallcamp for the night."
"Do not let that disquiet you. Have I not said that I would conduct youto my house."
"You have proposed it to me, it is true, but I do not know if I oughtto accept your hospitality."
"It will be modest, for I am not rich--far from it; but you may dependit will be cordial."
"But the embarrassment that so great a number of guests will occasionyou--"
"You are jesting, Monsieur, or you know very little of Spanish customs.Your people will not cause me any embarrassment."
"Since it is so, then, I accept without further ceremony, so as to passa few hours more in your charming company."
"Bravo; that is agreed," gaily said the young man; "now, if you willpermit me, I will be your guide; for without my assistance, it would bevery difficult to find my habitation."
The painter then, in fact, assumed the superintendence of the caravan,and, turning it to the left, he led it by the tracks of wild animals,scarcely perceptible in the grass, to the summit of a gently risinghill, which commanded a view of the plain to a great distance. It wascrowned by several buildings, the extent and importance of which thedarkness prevented the travellers from deciding.
M. Dubois had only been joined at an hour considerably advanced by hisassistants and his escort. The quarrel that had so suddenly been raisedby the Spanish captain had caused a rather considerable loss of time,so that the day was far advanced when the travellers could at lastresume their journey, and the night had closed in upon them when theyultimately reached the habitation of the young Frenchman.
They had arrived at the foot of the hill, when they saw several lightsmoving rapidly, and two or three men furnished with torches runningbefore them.
These men were the Indian servants of the painter, who had been a longtime watching for the arrival of their master, and who, at the sound ofthe horses, came to offer him their services.
The installation of the travellers was neither long nor difficult. Themules unloaded, and the baggage placed under a shed, the animals wereunsaddled and tied up. The servants gave them provender; then theylighted large fires to cook their supper, and gaily prepared themselvesto pass the night in the open air.
M. Dubois and his young companion alone had entered the house, orrather the rancho--for this modest dwelling, built of reeds and clay,and covered with leaves, gave access on all sides to wind and rain, andscarcely merited the name of a cottage.
The interior, however, was neat, and carefully arranged, and suppliedwith simple but good furniture.
"Here is the salon and the dining room, which we shall later in theevening transform into a sleeping room," said the artist, laughing;"for the present, we will put it to use as a dining room, and willproceed to supper, if you please."
"Nothing will suit me better," answered M. Dubois, pleasantly; "I evenpromise you that I shall do honour to the supper. I have a tremendousappetite."
"So much the better, then, for the quantity of the repast will make youoverlook its quality."
The young man clapped his hands. Almost immediately an Indian womanappeared, and prepared the table, which, in a very brief time wascovered with simple dishes, hastily prepared. M. Dubois had opened hisbottle case, and had taken from it several bottles, which produced anexcellent effect in the primitive receptacle on the middle of the table.
On the invitation of his host, the old man seated himself, and therepast commenced.
After a long day of travelling in the desert, exposed to the heat ofthe sun and to the dust, people are not very particular as to thequality of the provisions. Appetite makes one consider that to begood which, at another time, would not be touched with the end of thefinger. Thus, the aristocratic guest of the painter, making the best ofhis position, resolutely commenced the attack on what was placed beforehim; and, contrary to his presentiments, everything was found, if notexcellent, at all events eatable.
When supper was over, and the wine vessel taken away, the painter,after a few minutes' conversation, wished his guest a cordial goodnight, and withdrew.
The latter, as soon as he was alone, changed his mantle into amattress--that is to say, he stretched it on the table, laid himselfdown on it, enveloped himself carefully in it, and slept.
He could not have told how long he had been sleeping, when all of asudden he was rudely awakened by cries of fright and of rage raisedat a little distance from him, and with which were almost immediatelymingled several shots.
M. Dubois rose in the utmost anxiety, and rushed out to discover thecause of this extraordinary tumult.