Chapter 20

THE END OF A FEUD

The result of Arthur's enquiries was that the three roads by which he could travel to Saragossa were about equally bad, and that upon all of them there were places along the face of the hills at which attacks might be made.

"I had half a mind," he said to Roper afterwards, "to hire a couple of men as guides, telling them that they had better bring weapons with them. But it is likely enough that one or two of Don Silvio's men may be stationed in the hotel, and you may be sure they would question anyone who had been up to my room. Don Silvio might afterwards see them and hire their services, and we might be shot in the back when the others opened fire at us from an ambush. So I think we cannot do better than go forward by the main road. If we once get a start of them they may not be able to catch us, for they are certainly not likely to be better mounted than we are; and they cannot go on before us, for then they could not know which road we should take."

Accordingly in the morning, as soon as they had mounted, they took the straight road and travelled fast. They kept a keen look-out at all spots where an ambush was likely to be planted, but everything was quiet, and they reached their destination that evening without adventure.

"It will be more dangerous to-morrow, Roper," Arthur said as they sat at supper together. "We are fairly started on this road now, and there is no choice open to us as to which route we can take. They will know that, and may start before we do, and choose their position for attacking us."

"Well, I almost hope they will do so, sir. I am not afraid of a fight, but it makes one jumpy keeping always on the look-out, and expecting a shot from every bush we pass."

"I feel that myself, Roper. If we must fight I would rather do so now, and have done with it."

Next morning, feeling that if their enemies had started in front of them it would be useless to try to evade them, they proceeded at a much slower pace than on the previous day. After riding three hours they came to a spot where the road was cut along the face of an almost perpendicular hill, with a torrent running at its foot. As they began to ascend this, Arthur unbuckled the covers of the holsters, so that the pistols were ready for instant use. He directed Roper to do the same.

"Now," he said, "will you ride on my left, keeping exactly alongside? It is I whom they will fire at, but as this mail shirt of mine will keep out ordinary pistol balls I am not afraid that I shall be hurt. Directly they have fired, they will be sure to jump out from the place where they may be lying; then empty your pistols among them and go at them. There is no place for them to hide here, but there maybe farther on. At any rate, do as I tell you. Keep your horse's head in a line with mine."

Holding his rein in his left hand, and keeping his right close on the handle of a pistol, Arthur rode on. Roper had attempted to remonstrate against the order he had given, but Arthur silenced him.

"You must just do as you are ordered, Roper. One or two might shoot at you if you were riding behind me, and then I should be left alone to fight the whole of them. I shall certainly want your help."

They rode along until they came to a spot where the cliff fell away, leaving a semicircular depression which was filled with low bush.

"They are here, if anywhere," said Arthur. "Get your pistol ready, Roper!"

As they rode along past the place, a number of men sprang up and fired a volley. Arthur felt a sudden and acute pain in the ribs, and was nearly knocked from his horse. Recovering himself with a great effort, he fired twice, and two of the men dropped. A moment later his horse staggered and fell. As it did so he dragged the other pistol out and shot a man who was rushing at him with a clubbed musket. He heard Roper's pistols go off, but was too much engaged with a fourth man who rushed at him, to see what was the result. He had just run his antagonist through, when Don Silvio leapt upon him. Arthur parried the thrust aimed at him, and at once engaged in a furious combat. Don Silvio leapt round him with the agility of a cat, springing in and out, and delivering fierce lunges as he did so. Otherwise there was silence. He was vaguely conscious that Roper was down, but that he had disposed of the last of his antagonists, and that the issue remained solely between himself and the count. He was at a disadvantage with the latter, for while he himself was armed only with the regulation cutting sword, his antagonist had a long, straight, duelling rapier.

For a time he contented himself with standing on his guard, but was several times narrowly touched. At last, seizing his opportunity, he struck at his opponent's rapier with all his force. The blade shivered in the count's hand, but before he could raise his guard again the latter sprung upon him like a wild cat and grasped him by the throat, trying to hurl him over the precipice. Arthur dropped his sword, which was useless to him now, and, grasping his antagonist's wrists, tried to drag them from his throat; but rage had given Don Silvio strength, while Arthur himself was almost choking under the pressure. At last, with a mighty effort he succeeded, and in turn gained a grip on the throat of his antagonist. He dragged him to the edge of the precipice, and, holding one hand on his throat and with the other grasping him by the middle, raised him from the ground to hurl him over. Another instant and Don Silvio's career would have come to an end, but almost in the act of throwing Arthur paused.

The sight of the count's convulsed face and eyes moved him from his purpose, and he set him down again on the road, releasing him as he did so.

"Don Silvio," he said sternly, "I had you at my mercy, but thoughts came into my mind that caused me to change my purpose. I feel, as I have all along felt, that I have not been altogether blameless in this matter. It was natural that you should have been exasperated by the belief that I had gained the affections of Donna Mercedes, and that you should thereupon have forced a duel upon me. I feel that I was wrong in the way in which I fought you. I might have contented myself with merely wounding you, whereas I played with you first and made you the laughing-stock of the friends you had brought to witness your triumph. Considering that you are a Spaniard and have your ideas of revenge, I can pardon the attempt of those two men, whom, I doubt not, you bribed to stab me. I do not know what share you had in getting me into prison, nor do I care to enquire. I have now again worsted you, and have you at my mercy; but, looking back, and seeing that I have been myself to some extent wrong, I give you your life. Go home, se�or, and retrieve the past. I believe that you were an honourable gentleman before you were led astray by your anger at being superseded in the affections of Donna Mercedes. That quarrel has been fought out and come to an end. Go home and try to forget what has passed. You will never hear of it from me."

Don Silvio staggered back and stared in bewildered incredulity at Arthur, who, turning away, at once went to Roper's side. The latter was insensible, evidently from the effects of a tremendous blow from the butt-end of a musket delivered by a man who lay dead beside him. Roper had indeed fired and inflicted a mortal wound upon his adversary, who was in the act of striking. The blow had fallen, but it was the last effort of the striker. The two had fallen side by side. Arthur went to his dead horse, pulled out a flask from the wallet, poured some brandy and water between Roper's lips and rubbed some on his forehead, and soon he had the satisfaction of seeing his follower open his eyes.

"It is all right, Roper," he said, "we have thrashed them all. You have had a nasty knock on the head. Fortunately your crown is pretty thick, and you will be all right again in a few minutes;" then, as he saw that Roper was rallying, he turned to the count, who was sitting on a fallen rock with his head in his hands. Seven dead bodies lay in the road. The count got up as he approached.

"Englishman," he said in a low voice, "you have indeed proved my conqueror in every way, in fighting and in generosity. I can scarcely even now believe that I am alive, and that you have spared me when I was wholly at your mercy. I do not deserve life at your hands."

"Say no more about it," Arthur said. "I injured you first unconsciously and then consciously; you have tried to strike back hard, and this is the result. Let all animosity be at an end between us. Go back to your estate, live there quietly for a while, and then let the memory of our duel and all connected with it pass away--such matters are soon forgotten--and return to Madrid. I shall no longer be there. In a few months I shall be back in England. Now," he said in a different tone, "where are these men's horses? They must have ridden here; and as they have killed my favourite, I must provide myself with another."

"They are all round the next turn," Don Silvio said. "I can at least make reparation to you in the matter of the horse, for mine is as good as yours was. I will take one of the others, which indeed are all my own."

"What is to be done with these bodies?"

"There is a man with the horses. I will get him to throw them over into the gorge. It may be months before anyone finds them. We shall lead four of the best of the horses back, and the others can be left for the first comer."

"But the man will be a trouble to you in the future, will he not?"

"No; he is my steward, and devoted to the family. It was he who arranged for the services of these men, at a town twelve miles from my place. He fetched them over and provided them with horses. They will not be missed from their homes, and indeed the town will have some reason to rejoice over their disappearance."

By this time Roper was sufficiently recovered to be able to stand, but he was still a good deal dazed and bewildered. Arthur assisted him to mount, took the saddle and bridle off his own horse, and, carrying them with him and leading Roper's horse, he followed the count round the corner. Here was a group of nine horses ready saddled, with a tall old man standing beside them.

"Raphael," the count said, "take the saddle off my horse and put this gentleman's on to it. I have had a heavy lesson, and one that will last me all my life. This gentleman, whose life I strove to take, has spared mine when he had it at his mercy. I must get you to help me to throw into the gorge below the seven bodies of the men who went with me. They have all been killed. Put my saddle on to one of theirs. What do you think we had better do with the others?"

"I would leave them here, se�or. I picked out the worst lot on the estate. They are not worth the trouble of taking home; and if I were to lead three or four horses for the five days it will take us to get there, it would be remarked upon. People are sure to come along the road in the course of the day, and you may be certain that the horses will all be appropriated before night, and that nothing will be said about them."

"Very well; perhaps that will be the best way."

The count's horse had by this time been saddled. Arthur mounted.

"Well, count, I will say good-bye. Our feud has been a fierce one while it lasted, but it is well over now, and I think it may have done both of us good."

"I am sure it will do me good," the count said humbly. "Adieu! may the good fortune you deserve always attend you!"

Arthur waved his hand, touched his horse with his spur, and went on with Roper.

"How are you feeling, Roper?"

"I am getting all right, sir, though my head still seems to hum. I hardly know how it came about. I fired right at a man close to me. He was in the act of striking at me, and I thought he would have dropped; but before I had time to throw up my hand or parry in any way, the blow came down, and I remember nothing else till I found you pouring brandy down my throat."

"You fired a second too late. I found the man lying dead beside you, but I suppose the blow was already falling when you hit him, and it came down on to your head without any further effort on his part."

"And we killed the whole of them, sir?"

"Yes; I brought down three with my pistols and one with my sword. You must have accounted for the other three."

"Yes; I fired four times, sir. I know I shot the two first men, but before I could get my pistol fairly out of the other holster the third man was on me. I missed him the first time, but hit him with the second barrel just as he was in the act of striking me down. He was the only man, I think, who had a gun, all the others used pistols."

"Now I think of it, Roper, I have a strong suspicion, by the pain I am feeling, that one or two of my ribs are broken. I felt a very sharp pang for a moment. That mail shirt kept the bullets from penetrating, but it did not keep them from hitting me very hard. I think I will dismount now and strip to the waist, and get you--if you feel up to it--to bandage me tightly. I know you always carry a couple of bandages in your valise."

"Oh, I am well enough for that, sir!" Roper said, dismounting. Then, leaving his horse, he went across to Arthur and assisted him to dismount and to take off his coat and shirt.

"Here are the two bullets, sir, jammed tightly in the coat of mail; one is about an inch above the other. I am afraid two of the ribs are broken. I will make a shift to bandage you up as tightly as I can, and we will stop at the next town, which can only be six or seven miles away, and get a surgeon to attend to you properly. We will walk our horses all the way, it would never do to trot."

When Arthur had dressed again they continued on their journey at a very quiet pace, and arrived two hours later at a town. They put up at the principal inn and sent for a surgeon, who, on examining Arthur, at once found that the two ribs were broken.

"How long shall I be kept here?"

"It will depend how quickly the bones knit. I should say that you ought to stay for at least three weeks; but possibly you may go on before that, provided you take matters quietly. I shall, of course, bandage you up so tightly that they cannot shift unless you give yourself a wrench."

Arthur was detained ten days, but at the end of that time he insisted on proceeding. He was tightly enveloped in broad bandages, and, as he said, felt as if he were in a stiff pair of stays. He promised the surgeon that he would not let his horse go beyond a walk. However, they accomplished the journey to Saragossa at a pretty fair rate, travelling from eight to nine hours a day, making an average of twenty-five miles. By the time they got there Arthur no longer felt any acute pain, and was confident that the bones were healing. However, he resolved to follow the surgeon's advice and not attempt to remove the bandages for another month.

He found Saragossa a scene of great preparations. Espartero had determined not to move, as Oraa had done, with an insufficient siege-train, and during the months of comparative inactivity he had collected a battering train of forty pieces, of which eight were 24-pounders, twelve 16-pounders, ten mortars, and ten howitzers. Each gun was provided with a thousand rounds of ammunition.

Besides the siege-train he had also with him three field batteries armed with heavy guns. Transport had been collected with immense difficulty, for to carry the ammunition alone five hundred carts and two thousand mules were required, besides the waggons of the commissariat train and those for regimental transport. The force that was to accompany these amounted to twenty thousand men, while some eight thousand others were posted on the road and as garrisons in various villages. On the 18th of May the battering train moved forward, and was followed the next day by the main body. The first division advanced to the height of San Marcos, within sight of Morella. The main body with the head-quarters and artillery halted a few miles short of this on the heights above Pobleta.

During the night the weather changed suddenly. A very heavy snow-storm set in, and several men and mules were frozen to death. There was no change on the next day, but on the 23rd the army again advanced, and arrived early in the afternoon within range of the fort of San Pedro. It halted about two thousand yards from the town on its north side. The fort stood on a commanding height and was surrounded by a deep ditch. On its south and west sides it was inaccessible; on its north front it was well covered by a glacis. Its only exposed face was visible from another height, called San Marcos, at a distance of a thousand yards on the same level on the opposite side of the valley. Owing to the distance at which San Pedro stood from the city, Cabrera had since the last siege erected another strong redoubt called La Querola to protect the communications. He had made a great mistake, however, in not erecting another fortification on the heights facing La Querola. The two would have protected each other, and their fire crossing the road between them would have enabled them to hold out, even against the powerful artillery brought against them, for at least a fortnight.

Cabrera, however, who was no engineer, instead of covering the approaches with fortifications, had wasted much time in forming entrenchments in the town which would be of little or no use after an entry was once made. He himself was still suffering from the effects of the wounds Arthur had inflicted upon him, and was unable to undertake the defence of the place; and when the besieging army drew near he left the town with some eight thousand men in order to harass communications, and interfere as far as possible with the progress of the siege.

Espartero found that it was necessary to take La Querola before the city itself could be attacked, because it commanded the road by which the siege artillery was brought up. There was too, in the valley along which the road ran, an aqueduct which supplied the city with water, and behind this a large body of troops could form up without being seen from the city.

It was also desirable that this should be effected because the weakest part of the wall was between the castle and the gate of San Miguel; and were a breach effected there, the whole of the interior entrenchments would be commanded from it. The army encamped in front and on the flanks of San Pedro, the stores and heavy guns being placed on the height of San Marcos. On the 24th of May the engineers commenced an approach against the north front of San Pedro, and the artillery on the opposite height opened fire upon it. The work of the sappers was arduous; an incessant musketry fire was kept up upon them, and the ground was so rocky that it was very difficult to obtain shelter. Finding, therefore, that the approach could not be made in a regular way, the sappers went forward at a run to within two hundred yards of the fort, and then covered themselves by hurriedly throwing up a stone wall.

Behind this they kept up so rapid and heavy a fire that they silenced that of the defenders, and during the night carried forward the work to within a hundred yards of the wall, and completed a little battery of three 16-pounders, which were to fire at the very small part of the work which was not covered by the glacis. They opened fire at daybreak, but did very little damage. It was otherwise, however, on the eastern side, where the wall was so effectually pounded by the heavy guns on the opposite heights that the whole of the parapet on that face was destroyed, and there was therefore no shelter for the defenders. Some of the light troops, seeing this, crept up close to the ditch. The defenders, thinking that an assault was intended, rushed to oppose them, but suffered terribly from the fire from San Marcos.

Again and again they exposed themselves in the most gallant manner, but the fire from the guns was so excellent that they fell in great numbers. At eight o'clock the garrison sounded a parley, and the governor offered to surrender on condition that the survivors should be permitted to retreat to Morella. Espartero refused, and as the garrison could not any longer continue the hopeless defence, the governor surrendered at discretion. In the meantime Espartero had moved some light infantry against La Querola, the newly-raised fort built to keep up the communications between San Pedro and the city. The garrison here showed none of the same spirit that had animated the defenders of San Pedro. Notwithstanding the assistance rendered by a strong sortie from Morella, they resisted the attack for only half an hour and then abandoned the fort, being cut up as they retired by Espartero's cavalry.

Thus the way was opened for an advance of the besiegers to the neighbourhood of the city itself, and the whole army moved forward. A natural ridge, at a distance of from seven to eight hundred yards from the city, covered their movements, and here the batteries were at once commenced. By the 29th all was ready--thirty-five guns were in position--and a tremendous fire was opened against the town. The mortars did not effect the expected damage, for the town was almost entirely composed of stone, and but few houses were set on fire. The destruction wrought by the other guns was, however, very great: the wall between the castle and the gate of San Miguel crumbled rapidly, while the fire from the castle was almost wholly silenced, and a very destructive explosion took place in one of the principal magazines. The northern defences of the castle were almost destroyed, and communication could no longer be held by daylight between it and the town.

At half-past two in the afternoon an officer let himself down by a rope from the western wall and informed Espartero that a meeting of the principal officers of the town had been held, and that it had been determined that the troops in the city should that night endeavour to escape through the besieging army and join Cabrera, who was with the field force and very ill. The garrison of the castle was to remain and cover the escape of their comrades. Espartero at once took precautions to frustrate the attempt to escape. Directing an incessant fire to be kept up by all the guns, he despatched officers to the different divisions to order that the investment, which had not hitherto been complete, should at once be carefully closed, and that at nightfall the troops should draw nearer to the town and occupy in force all the roads, particularly that towards the gate of the Puerta del Estudio, which alone had not been blocked before the siege began. As, however, he was by no means certain that the information brought by the deserter was true, he directed the erection of two new batteries at the north-west angle of the wall, while another battery was erected at the south-west side of the city, a couple of field-batteries being also sent round there.

At ten o'clock in the evening fire was opened all round Morella. This seemed to show that the information that had been received was correct, and that this outburst of firing was intended to show that the garrison was vigilant and active. At dawn the troops, ignorant that their scheme had been betrayed, marched down, headed by the governor. To their surprise they were encountered by an overwhelming force, and in the hasty struggle that ensued three hundred and fifty of the Carlists were made prisoners. The rest of the column endeavoured to regain the town, but a shell fell on the drawbridge and destroyed it. A terrible scene now ensued. A great many of the wives and children of the troops had marched out with them, believing that the road was perfectly clear. These were pressed back by the retreating troops. Numbers of men, women, and children were forced into the moat, which soon became filled with a mass of struggling, suffocating people.

To add to the horror of the scene, those of the garrison who still remained within the walls, hearing the shouts of the Christinos--"Viva la Reyna!"--fired miscellaneously, in a panic, upon friends and foes. At six o'clock in the morning the officer second in command, and now acting as governor, sent out to offer to capitulate on the condition that the garrison should be allowed to withdraw to a foreign country. This was peremptorily refused by Espartero, and at eight o'clock the place surrendered unconditionally. The remainder of the garrison marched out and piled arms under the castle, their number exceeding three thousand. In both the city and the castle the magazines were found stored with provisions sufficient to enable them to hold out for several months. The defence was, on the whole, quite unworthy of the traditions of the Carlists--in fact the little garrison of San Pedro alone behaved well.

There could be no doubt that the defenders had been cowed by the overwhelming powers of the siege artillery. They had relied upon being able to repulse any assault that might be made, but were utterly unprepared for a bombardment such as they had to endure. There was no precedent for the collection of so great a force of artillery. At the unsuccessful siege by Oraa only some eight to ten small pieces had been used; these had been badly placed and badly handled, and time had not even been allowed for them to complete the breaches. When, therefore, the walls were swept by the fire of fifty or sixty guns, and the garrison saw their defences in one day crumble before them, they thought only of escape. The lamentable part of the affair was the fearful destruction of life outside the gate.

This was a worthy conclusion of a struggle that had been conducted on both sides with an amount of ferocity, brutality, and bloodshed altogether without precedent in modern warfare; indeed, to find a parallel it is necessary to go back to the wholesale slaughter committed by Alva in the Low Countries.

The English officers, after order was restored, called upon Espartero to congratulate him on his complete success, and two or three of them took leave of him at once, as it was certain that although some guerrilla skirmishing might still go on, the war was practically at an end. They then rode back to the hut which had formed their head-quarters during the siege.

The general expression was that of joy that their arduous and thankless work was at an end. They had been, in some cases, for years travelling almost constantly with flying columns, which moved aimlessly through the country, or remained for months together inactive without making an effort to get in touch with the enemy. It was not their business to give advice unless it was asked for: their mission was to endeavour to humanize the war. And although at times one or another of the commanders would act with some little humanity, these were quite exceptional cases, and as a rule little quarter was given on either side, both insisting that these atrocities were but reprisals for acts of the other party.

In vain had the British commissioners urged, in the name not only of humanity but of good policy, that the customs of war should be followed, and that their antagonists should not be excited to madness by the wanton destruction of life, the wholesale devastation of the country, and the razing to the ground of villages and homesteads. Both parties admitted the justice of their reasons, both bewailed the necessity for such actions, but both continued to commit them to the end of the war. There was, then, a feeling of deep satisfaction among the three or four British officers, at the capture of Morella and its garrison. As long as that city remained in the hands of the Carlists, it was a rallying centre for them--a reminder of the signal defeat of the army that had besieged it. Now it had fallen after a resistance that could not but be considered as feeble. The Carlists had, it is true, other strongholds in different parts of the country, but these were comparatively insignificant, and would doubtless open their gates as soon as detachments of Espartero's army appeared before them.

Indeed, the weakness of the defence of Morella showed that the spirit of the Carlists was already broken. Had Cabrera remained among them to cheer and encourage them, the defence would have been much more desperate, though it could not have been very much more prolonged, for another day or two would have seen the defences so destroyed that the place would have been untenable; but the fact that Cabrera was away wounded and sick took all the spirit out of the defence. The first offer of the governor to surrender if the garrison were allowed to march out and cross a foreign frontier, was no doubt the result of an order that Cabrera had given him before he left, when he found that he was no longer able to defend the place, and probably foreshadowed the plan that Cabrera himself thought it likely he would be compelled to adopt.

Espartero's triumph had been complete. He had, indeed, proved the saviour of Spain. When he began--one among half a dozen generals--he found jealousy and jobbery everywhere rampant. Most of the generals thought only of avoiding defeat, and not of gaining victory. So long as the Carlists left them alone they were well content to allow them to march almost at will through the country. The army, which was ill-clothed and ill-fed, was wholly deficient in artillery, and had but a very small body of cavalry. Worst of all, the government was rotten to the core. Corruption prevailed in every office, and positions were only secured through favouritism, merit counting not at all. Little by little Espartero changed all this. His honesty, his talent, and dogged perseverance triumphed over his adversaries. The people at large came to regard him as their one hope, and answered his appeal to them by overthrowing the government that had thwarted him, and making him towards the end of the war practically Dictator of Spain.

He had all along distinguished himself by the courtesy with which he had treated the British commissioners. He had relied a great deal upon the advice of Colonel Wylde, who was senior of that body, and had himself set, as a rule, an example of clemency to the captives except when he was driven by the massacre of prisoners taken by the Carlists to carry out striking reprisals. Many of the other generals, on the other hand, kept the commissioners at arm's-length, and would not only give them no information themselves, but ordered their officers not to do so. It is not difficult to understand the feeling that actuated them. These officers were unwelcome at their head-quarters not because they were there to plead the cause of humanity, but because they furnished the British government with accurate reports of the movements and conduct of the army, and thus exposed the falsity of their own bombastic reports of their doings.

"For my part, I am heartily glad it is over," Arthur said. "I certainly do not mean to remain to witness the expulsion of Cabrera and the stamping out of the last embers of disaffection. I have had six years of it, and I intend to send in my resignation as soon as I arrive at Madrid. When I came out it was with the intention of serving merely for the term of my enlistment, a couple of years; then I had the good fortune to be transferred to the army when the Legion was broken up, though I still thought that it was but for another year or so. However, I have no reason to regret that I have seen it through. I have been fortunate in all respects--very fortunate in serving under so kind and good a chief as Colonel Wylde."

"What are you thinking of doing if you leave the army?"

"I have a small estate waiting for me at home, which has been little by little piling up capital for me during my absence. I shall be a good deal more fit to take charge of it now, and to settle down, than I should have been if I had never come out here."

"It seems a pity, too," Colonel Lacy said. "You have done very good service, and Colonel Wylde has always reported well of you. You have been a captain now for four years, and you will be sure to get your majority as a reward for your work here."

"Yes, sir; if I had entered the army for the purpose of staying in it, I should have every reason for congratulating myself on my good fortune; but as I did not, I should not value the majority, for which indeed I feel myself much too young. Besides, I should be altogether unfit for it. I learned the work of a subaltern for a year in a hard, rough school, where there was no occasion to know more than the simplest movements. For the past four years I have not commanded a corporal's guard, and I could no more drill a battalion of British troops on a parade-ground than fly, so I have quite made up my mind to leave, and have indeed only held on for the past two years in the belief that the war would speedily come to an end."

"Well, Hallett, of course you know your own business best; and I am quite sure that if I had a nice little estate waiting for me in England, I should take the same course as you are going to do."