"_Mille tonnerres!_ Young man, you have chosen an unsuitable place to cut your jokes!"

"Sa Majeste le Roi," said an aide-de-camp, entering hastily, and throwing the door open to its full extent; and scarcely had the party time to rise when the Emperor"s brother appeared.

Of the middle size, pale, and with a thoughtful, expressive countenance, Joseph Bonaparte"s appearance was much in his favour. His forehead was lofty and expansive, his eye large and full, and the sweet smile which seemed the gift of every member of the family he possessed in perfection. After a few words with General Oudinot, whose rough manner and coa.r.s.e bearing suffered no change by his presence, he turned towards me, and with much mildness of voice and courtesy of demeanour inquired if I were wounded. On hearing that I was not, he expressed a hope that my captivity would be of brief duration, as exchanges were already in progress. "Meanwhile," said he, "you shall have as little to complain of as possible."

As he concluded these few but to me most comforting words, I received a hint from the aide-de-camp to withdraw, which I did, into an adjoining room. The same aide-de-camp by whom I had hitherto been accompanied now joined me, and, slapping me familiarly on the shoulder, cried out--

"_Eh, bien!_ I hope now you are satisfied. Joseph is a fine, generous fellow, and will take care not to forget his promise to you. Meanwhile, come and take a share of my supper."

He opened a door in the wainscot as he spoke, and introduced me into a perfectly-fitted-up little boudoir, where a supper had been laid out for him. Another cover was soon provided for me, and in a few minutes we were seated at table, chatting away about the war and the opposing armies, as though instead of partisans we had merely been lookers-on at the great game before us. My companion, though but a year or two older than myself, held the grade of colonel, every step to which he won at the point of his sword; he was strikingly handsome, and his figure, though slight, powerfully knit. As the champagne pa.s.sed back and forward between us, confidences became interchanged, and before midnight sounded I found my companion quite familiar with the name of Louisa Bellew, while to my equal astonishment I was on terms of perfect intimacy with a certain lovely marquise of the Chaussee d"Antin. The tinkle of a sharp bell suddenly called the aide-de-camp to his legs; so drinking off a large goblet of cold water, and taking up his chapeau, he left the room.

I now threw myself back into my chair, and, tossing off a b.u.mper of champagne, began to reason myself into the belief that there were worse things even than imprisonment among the French. Flitting thoughts of the past, vague dreams of the future, confused images of the present, were all dancing through my brain, when the door again opened, and I heard my companion"s footsteps behind me.

"Do you know, Alphonse," said I, without turning in my chair, "I have been seriously thinking of making my escape? It is quite clear that a battle is not far off; and, by Jove! if I only have the good fortune to meet with your _chef d etat major_, that savage old Oudinot, I"ll pledge myself to clear off scores with him."

A half chuckle of laughter behind induced me to continue:--

"That old fellow certainly must have risen from the ranks--not a touch of breeding about him. I"m certain his Majesty rated him soundly for his treatment of me, when I came away. I saw his old moustaches bristling up; he knew he was in for it."

A louder laugh than at first, but in somewhat of a different cadence, induced me to torn my head, when what was my horror to see before me, not my new friend the aide-de-camp, but General Oudinot himself, who all this time had been listening to my polite observations regarding his future welfare! There was a savage exultation in his look as his eye met mine, and for a second or two he seemed to enjoy my confusion too much to permit him to break silence. At last he said--

"Are you on parole, sir?"

"No," I briefly replied, "nor shall I be."

"What, have I heard you aright? Do you refuse your parole?"

"Yes; I shall not pledge myself against attempting my escape the very first opportunity that offers."

"Indeed," said he slowly, "indeed! What is to become of poor General Oudinot if such a casualty take place? But come, sir, I have his Majesty"s orders to accept your parole; if you refuse it, you are then at _my_ disposal. I have received no other instructions about you. Yes or no--I ask you for the last time."

"No! distinctly no!"

"C"est bien; holla, garde! numero dix et onze."

Two soldiers of the grenadiers, with fixed bayonets, appeared at the door; a few hurried words were spoken, the only part of which I could catch was the word _cachot_ I was at once ordered to rise; a soldier walked on either side of me, and I was in this way conducted through the city to the prison of the gendarmerie, where for the night I was to remain, with orders to forward me the next morning at daybreak, with some Spanish prisoners, on the road to Bayonne.

CHAPTER LIV. THE RETREAT

My cell, for such it was, although dignified with the appellation of chamber, looked out by a small window upon a narrow street, the opposite side to which was formed by the wall of a churchyard pertaining to a convent. As day broke, I eagerly took my place at the cas.e.m.e.nt to watch what was going on without; but except some bareheaded figure of a monk gliding along between the dark yew avenues, or some female in deep mourning pa.s.sing to her morning"s devotions beside the grave of a relative, I could see nothing. A deep silence seemed to brood over the city, so lately the scene of festivity and mirth. Towards four o"clock, however, I could hear the distant roll of drums, which gradually extended from the extreme right to the left of the plain before the town; then I heard the heavy monotonous tramp of marching, broken occasionally by the clank of the bra.s.s bands of the cavalry, or the deep sullen thunder of the artillery waggons as they moved along over the paved roads. The sounds came gradually nearer; the trumpets too joined the clamour with the shrill reveille, and soon the streets towards the front of the prison re-echoed with the unceasing clatter of troops moving forward. I could hear the voices of the officers calling to the men to move up; heard more than once the names of particular regiments, as some distinguished corps were pa.s.sing. The music of the bands was quick and inspiriting; and as some popular air was struck up, the men would break forth suddenly into the words, and the rough-voiced chorus rang through the narrow streets, and fell heavily on my own heart as I lay there a prisoner. Hour after hour did this continue, yet the silence behind remained as unbroken as ever; the lonely churchyard, with its dark walks and sad-looking trees, was still and deserted. By degrees the din in front diminished; regiments pa.s.sed now only at intervals, and their pace, increased to a run, left no time for the bands; the cavalry, too, trotted rapidly by, and at last all was still as in the gloomy street before me.

It was now eight o"clock, and no summons had yet come to me, although I had heard myself the order for our marching on the Bayonne road by sunrise. The prison was still as the grave; not a step could I hear; not a bolt nor a hinge creaked. I looked to the window, but the strong iron grating that defended it left no prospect of escape; the door was even stronger, and there was no chimney. The thought occurred to me that the party had forgotten me, and had gone away with the other prisoners. This thought somehow had its consolation; but the notion of being left to starve came suddenly across me, and I hastened to the window to try and make myself known to some chance pa.s.ser-by.

Just then the loud boom of a gun struck upon my ear; another followed, louder still; and then a long heavy crashing noise, which rose and fell as the wind bore it, told me that the work of death had begun. The sound of the large guns, which at first came only at intervals, now swelled into one loud continuous roar, that drowned all other noise. The strong frames of the windows shook, and the very ground beneath my feet seemed to tremble with the dreadful concussion of the artillery; sometimes the din would die away for a few seconds, and then, as the wind freshened, it would swell into a thunder so loud as to make me think the battle was close to where I stood. Hour after hour did this continue; and now, although the little street beside me was thronged with many an anxious group, I no longer thought of questioning them. My whole soul was wrapped up in the one thought--that of the dreadful engagement; and as I listened, my mind was carrying on with itself some fancied picture of the fight, with no other guide to my imaginings than the distant clangour of the battle. Now I thought that the French were advancing, that their battery of guns had opened; and I could imagine the dark ma.s.s that moved on, their tall shakos and black belts peering amidst the smoke that lay densely in the field. On they poured, thousand after thousand; ay, there goes the fusilade--the platoons are firing. But now they halt; the crash of fixing bayonets is heard; a cheer breaks forth; the cloud is rent; the thick smoke is severed as if by a lightning flash; the red-coats have dashed through at the charge; the enemy waits not; the line wavers and breaks; down come the cavalry, like an eagle on the swoop! But again the dread artillery opens; the French form beneath the lines, and the fight is renewed.

The fever of my mind was at its height. I paced my room with hurried steps, and springing to the narrow cas.e.m.e.nt, held my ear to the wall to listen. Forgetting where I was, I called out as though at the head of my company, with the wild yell of the battle around me, and the foe before me.

Suddenly the crowd beneath the window broke; the crash of cavalry equipments resounded through the street, and the head of a squadron of cuira.s.siers came up at a trot, followed by a train of baggage-waggons, with six horses to each; the drivers whipped and spurred their cattle, and all betokened haste. From the strength of the guard and the appearance of the waggons, I conjectured that they were the treasures of the army--an opinion in which I was strengthened by the word "Bayonne"

chalked in large letters on a chest thrown on the top of a carriage.

Some open waggons followed, in which the invalids of the army lay, a pale and sickly ma.s.s; their lack-l.u.s.tre eyes gazed heavily around with a stupid wonder, like men musing in a dream. Even they, however, had arms given them, such was the dread of falling into the hands of the guerilla bands who infested the mountain pa.s.ses, and who never gave quarter even to the wounded and the dying.

The long file at length pa.s.sed, but only to make way for a still longer procession of Spanish prisoners, who, bound wrist to wrist, marched between two files of mounted gendarmes. The greater number of these were mountaineers, guerillas of the south, condemned to the galleys for life, their bronzed faces and stalwart figures a striking contrast to their pale and emaciated companions, the inhabitants of the towns, who could scarce drag their weary limbs along, and seemed at every step ready to sink between misery and privation. The ribald jests and coa.r.s.e language of the soldiers were always addressed to these, there seeming to be a kind of respect for the bolder guerillas even in the hour of their captivity. The tramp of led horses, the roll of waggons, the cracking of whips, mingled with the oaths of muleteers and the fainter cries of the sick, now filled the air, and only occasionally did the loud cannonade rise above them. From every window faces appeared, turned with excited eagerness towards the dense crowds; and though I could perceive that inquiries as to the fate of the day were constantly made and answered, my ignorance of Spanish prevented my understanding what was said.

The noise in front of the prison, where the thoroughfare was wider and larger, far exceeded that around me; and at last I could hear the steps of persons marching overhead, and ascending and descending the stairs.

Doors clapped and slammed on every side; when, suddenly, the door of my own cell was shaken violently, and a voice cried out in French, "Try this; I pa.s.sed twice without perceiving it." The next moment the lock turned, and my room was filled with dragoons, their uniforms splashed and dirty, and evidently bearing the marks of a long and severe march.

"Are you the Guerilla Guiposcoa de Condeiga?" said one of the party, accosting me, as I stood wrapped up in my cloak.

"No; I am an English officer."

"Show your epaulettes, then," said another, who knew that Spanish officers never wore such.

I opened my cloak, when the sight of my red uniform at once satisfied them. At this instant a clamour of voices without was heard, and several persons called out, "We have him! here he is!" The crowd around me rushed forth at the sound; and following among them I reached the street, now jammed up with horse and foot, waggons, tumbrels, and caissons--some endeavouring to hasten forward towards the road to Bayonne; others as eagerly turned towards the plain of Vittoria, where the deafening roll of artillery showed the fight was at its fiercest.

The dragoons issued forth, dragging a man amongst them whose enormous stature and broad chest towered above the others, but who apparently made not the slightest resistance as they hurried him forward, shouting, as they went, "_A la grand" place!--a la place!_"

It was the celebrated Guerilla Guiposcoa, who had distinguished himself by acts of heroic daring, and sometimes by savage cruelty towards the French, and who had fallen into their hands that morning. Anxious to catch a glance at one of whom I had heard so often, I pressed forward among the rest, and soon found myself in the motley crowd of soldiers and townspeople that hurried towards the Plaza.

Scarcely had I entered the square when the movement of the mult.i.tude was arrested, and a low whispering murmur succeeded to the deafening shouts of vengeance and loud cries of death I had heard before; then came the deep roll of a m.u.f.fled drum. I made a strong effort to press forward, and at length reached the rear of a line of dismounted dragoons who stood leaning on their carbines, their eyes steadily bent on a figure some twenty paces in front. He was leisurely employed in divesting himself of some of his clothes, which, as he took off, he piled in a little heap beside him; his broad guerilla hat, his dark cloak, his sheep"s-wool jacket slashed with gold, fell one by one from his hand, and his broad manly chest at last lay bare, heaving with manifest pride and emotion, as he turned his dark eyes calmly around him. Nothing was now heard in that vast crowd save when some low, broken sob of grief would burst from the close-drawn mantillas of the women, as they offered up their heartfelt prayers for the soul of the patriot.

A low parapet wall, surmounted by an iron railing, closed in this part of the Plaza, and separated it from a deep and rapid river that flowed beneath--a branch of the Ebro. Beyond, the wide plain of Vittoria stretched away towards the Pyrenees; and two leagues distant the scene of the battle was discernible, from the heavy ma.s.s of cloud that lowered overhead, and the deep booming of the guns that seemed to make the air tremulous.

The Spaniard turned his calm look towards the battlefield, and for an instant his dark eye flashed back upon his foes with an expression of triumphant daring, which seemed as it were to say, "I am avenged already!" A cry of impatience burst from the crowd of soldiers, and the crash of their firelocks threatened that they would not wait longer for his blood. But the guerilla"s manner changed at once, and holding up a small ebony crucifix before him, he seemed to ask a moment"s respite for a short prayer.

The stillness showed his request was complied with; he turned his back towards the crowd, and placing the crucifix on the low parapet, he bent down on both his knees, and seemed lost in his devotions. As he rose I thought I could perceive that he threw a glance, rapid as lightning, over the wall towards the river that flowed beneath. He now turned fully round; and unfastening the girdle of many a gay colour that he wore round his waist, he threw it carelessly on his left arm; and then, baring his breast to the full, knelt slowly down, and with his arms wide apart called out in Spanish, "Here is my life! come, take it!" The words were scarcely uttered, when the carbines clanked as they brought them to the shoulder; the sergeant of the company called out the words, "_Donnez!_" a pause--"_Feu!_" The fusilade rang out, and as my eyes pierced the smoke I could see that the guerilla had fallen to the earth, his arms crossed upon his bosom.

A shriek wild and terrific burst from the crowd. The blue smoke slowly rose, and I perceived the French sergeant standing over the body of the guerilla, which lay covered with blood upon the turf. A kind of convulsive spasm seemed to twitch the limbs, upon which the Frenchman drew his sabre. The rattle of the steel scabbard rang through my heart; the bright weapon glanced as he raised it above his head. At the same instant the guerilla chief sprang to his legs; he tottered as he did so, for I could see that his left arm hung powerless at his side, but his right held a long poniard. He threw himself upon the Frenchman"s bosom; a yell followed, and the same moment the guerilla sprang over the battlements, and with a loud splash dropped into the river beneath. The water had scarce covered his body, as the Frenchman fell a corpse upon the ground.

A perfect roar of madness and rage burst from the French soldiers, as, rushing to the parapet, a hundred b.a.l.l.s swept the surface of the river; but the tall reeds of the bank had already concealed the bold guerilla, whose left arm had received the fire of the soldiers, who now saw the meaning of that quick movement by which he had thrown his girdle around it. The incident was but the work of a few brief moments; nor was there longer time to think on it, for suddenly a squadron of cavalry swept past at the full speed of their horses, calling out the words, "Place there! Make way there in front! The ambulance! the ambulance!"

A low groan of horror rose around; the quick retreat of the wounded betokened that the battle was going against the French; the words "beaten and retreat" reechoed through the crowd; and as the dark suspicion crept amid the moving ma.s.s, the first waggon of the wounded slowly turned the angle of the square, a white flag hanging above it. I caught but one glance of the sad convoy; but never shall I forget that spectacle of blood and agony. Torn and mangled, they lay an indiscriminate heap--their faces blackened with powder, their bodies shattered with wounds. High above the other sounds their piercing cries rent the air, with mingled blasphemies and insane ravings. Meanwhile the drivers seemed only anxious to get forward, as, deaf to every prayer and entreaty, they whipped their horses and called out to the crowd to make way.

Escape was now open; but where could I go? My uniform exposed me to immediate detection; should I endeavour to conceal myself, discovery would be my death. The vast tide of people that poured along the streets was a current too strong to stem, and I hesitated what course to follow.

My doubts were soon resolved for me; an officer of General Oudinot"s staff, who had seen me the previous night, rode up close to where I stood, and then turning to his orderly, spoke a few hurried words. The moment after, two heavy dragoons, in green uniform and bra.s.s helmets, came up, one at either side of me; without a second"s delay one of them unfastened a coil of small rope that hung at his saddle-bow, which with the a.s.sistance of the other was pa.s.sed over my right wrist and drawn tight. In this way, secured like a malefactor, I was ordered forward. In vain I remonstrated; in vain I told them I was a British officer; to no purpose did I reiterate that hitherto I had made no effort to escape.

It is not in the hour of defeat that a Frenchman can behave either with humanity or justice. A volley of _sacres_ was the only answer I received, and nothing was left me but to yield.

Meanwhile the tumult and confusion of the town was increasing every minute. Heavy waggons inscribed in large letters, "Domaine exterieure de sa Majeste l"Empereur," containing the jewels and treasures of Madrid, pa.s.sed by, drawn by eight and sometimes ten horses, and accompanied by strong cavalry detachments. Infantry regiments, blackened with smoke and gunpowder, newly arrived from the field, hurried past to take up positions on the Bayonne road to protect the retreat; then came the nearer din and crash of the artillery as the French army were falling back upon the town.

Scarcely had we issued from the walls of the city when the whole scene of flight and ruin was presented to our eyes. The country for miles round was one moving ma.s.s of fugitives; cannon, waggons, tumbrels, wounded soldiers, hors.e.m.e.n, and even splendid equipages were all mixed up together on the Pampeluna road, which lay to our right. The march was there intercepted by an overturned waggon; the horses were plunging, and the cries of wounded men could be heard even where we were. The fields at each side of the way were soon spread over by the crowd, eager to press on. Guns were now abandoned and thrown into ditches and ravines; the men broke their muskets, and threw the fragments on the roadside, and vast magazines of powder were exploded here and there through the plain.

But my attention was soon drawn to objects more immediately beside me. The Bayonne road, which we now reached, was the last hope of the retiring army. To maintain this line of retreat strong detachments of infantry, supported by heavy guns, were stationed at every eminence commanding the position; but the swooping torrent of the retreat had left little time for these to form, many of whom were borne along with the flying army. Discipline gave way on every side; the men sprang upon the waggons, refusing to march; the treasures were broken open and thrown upon the road. Frequently the baggage-guard interchanged shots and sabre-cuts with the infuriated soldiers, who only thought of escape; and the ladies, who but yesterday were the objects of every care and solicitude, were hurried along amid that rude mult.i.tude--some on foot, others glad to be allowed to take a place in the ambulance among the wounded, their dresses blood-stained and torn, adding to the horror and misery of the scene.

Such was the prospect before us. Behind, a dark ma.s.s hovered as if even yet withstanding the attack of the enemy, whose guns thundered clearer and clearer every moment. Still the long line of wounded came on--some in wide open carts, others stretched upon the gun-carriages, mangled and bleeding. Among these my attention was drawn to one whose head having fallen over the edge of the cart was endangered by every roll of the heavy wheel that grazed his very skull. There was a halt, and I seized the moment to a.s.sist the poor fellow as he lay thus in peril. His helmet had fallen back, and was merely retained by the bra.s.s chain beneath his chin; his temples were actually cleft open by a sabre-cut, and I could see that he had also received some shot-wounds in the side, where he pressed his hands, the blood welling up between the fingers. As I lifted the head to place it within the cart, the eyes opened and turned fully upon me. A faint smile of grat.i.tude curled his lip; I bent over him, and to my horror recognised in the mangled and shattered form before me the gallant fellow with whom the very night before I had formed almost a friendship. The word "cold," muttered between his teeth, was the only answer I could catch as I called him by his name. The order to march rang out from the head of the convoy, and I had barely time to unfasten my cloak and throw it over him ere the waggon moved on. I never saw him after.

A squadron of cavalry now galloped past, reckless of all before them; the traces of their artillery were cut, and the men, mounting the horses, deserted the guns, and rode for their lives. In the midst of the flying ma.s.s a splendid equipage flew past, its six horses lashed to madness by the postillions; a straggling guard of honour galloped at either side, and a grand _ecuyer_ in scarlet, who rode in front, called out incessantly, "Place, place, pour sa Majeste!" But all to no purpose; the road, blocked up by broken waggons, dense crowds of horse and foot, dead and dying, soon became impa.s.sable. An effort to pa.s.s a heavily-loaded waggon entangled the coach; the axle was caught by the huge waggon; the horses plunged when they felt the restraint, and the next moment the royal carriage was hurled over on its side, and fell with a crash into the ravine at the roadside. While the officers of his staff dismounted to rescue the fallen monarch, a ribald burst of laughter rose from the crowd, and a pioneer actually gave the b.u.t.t of his carbine to a.s.sist the king as, covered with mud, he scrambled up the ditch. I had but an instant to look upon his pale countenance, which even since the night before seemed to have grown many years older, ere I was myself dragged forward among the crowd.

Darkness now added its horror to the scene of riot and confusion. The incessant cries of the fugitives told that the English cavalry were upon them; the artillery came closer and closer, and the black sky was traversed by many a line of fire, as the sh.e.l.ls poured down upon the routed army. The English guns, regardless of roads, dashed down on the terrified ma.s.ses, raining b.a.l.l.s and howitzer-sh.e.l.ls on every side.

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