With Wellington in Spain: A Story of the Peninsula

  CHAPTER V

  Prisoners

  If ever a band of prisoners could be described as jovial it wasthe little band with whom Tom Clifford was travelling. For theconfinement at sea made a trip ashore most enchanting; then the quickand unaccustomed movement, the efforts more than one of them wereforced to make continually to keep in their saddles, provoked anamount of amusement which even infected their escort.

  "I was as near off as anything that time," shouted the irrepressibleJack, when his horse had shied at a rock and nearly thrown him. "Wishone of these fellows would rope me to the saddle instead of leadingme as if I were a child."

  "What does he say, monsieur?" asked the trooper riding near our hero,and at once Tom explained.

  "That would not be good for him," laughed the man. "If we have togallop at any time, and the horse fell, he would be left to bebutchered. I tell you, monsieur, these peasants are terrible. I donot say that they are not justified, for our men have behaved cruellyto them. But the peasants care nothing whether it be horse soldiersor foot. If a man of ours falls into their hands he is butchered;that would be your fate also if you were to lag behind."

  Every now and again, as the small party made for the hills, groups ofmen were seen hovering in the distance. And once, when the squadronwas riding through a narrow defile, rocks descended from above.

  "Gallop!" commanded the officer, and striking their heels into theflanks of the horses the soldiers soon passed through. When the duskof evening began to fall, shots rang out in the distance, and one ofthe troopers was wounded.

  "I see men gathering in front of us," suddenly exclaimed one of thesergeants. "They fill the gap through which we must pass to gain theroad for the hill."

  "Halt!" came from the commander. "Place the prisoners in the centre.We will ride forward steadily till within shot of them, and thenwe will charge. There is nothing else to be done. To retreat wouldbe to have the whole population of the country about us to-morrow;monsieur," he said, as if by an afterthought; "you and your comradesrealize the danger?"

  Tom nodded at once. "We see the position, _Monsieur le Capitaine_,"he said. "You are a detached party away from the army."

  "We are one of hundreds of squadrons told off to clear the countryduring the retreat of our armies across the Tagus," came the answer."From to-day we march for Spain, and I hope we may never put foot inPortugal again. It is not a pleasant duty, this burning of villagesand crops, but orders must be obeyed. We are detached, as you say,and to join our friends we have to run the gauntlet. Monsieur and hisfriends can have temporary liberty, and arms with which to fight, ifthey will give their word of honour to respect me and my men, andhand themselves over later on as captives to us."

  "I will speak with my friends," replied Tom at once, overjoyed atthe proposal; for he could see easily that there was a strenuoustime before the little party, and in the event of a reverse to thetroopers the position of himself and his friends might be veryserious. Armed and ready they would be in a different position.Rapidly, therefore, he explained the position to Mr. Riley.

  "Agreed!" cried the latter eagerly. "Not that I'm much use eitherway. It takes me all my time to stick to this animal, let alone usea weapon; for I have only one useful arm. Tell him we agree. Youmen,"--and he swung round on Andrews and Howeley, the two men ofthe 60th accompanying them, "you men understand the position, nodoubt. We are fighting for the Portuguese, and against the French;but here is a case where our friends will not know us. They willkill us with the others before we can explain. It is a question ofself-preservation."

  "Right, sir," answered Andrews cheerily. "We're game, and thoughit'll be hard luck to have to become prisoners again, we see thereason. We give our word."

  "Good, then," exclaimed the officer of the party with relief, and atonce gave orders to his troopers to throw off the leading reins, andto hand each of the prisoners a sabre. To Mr. Riley he presented apistol.

  "For you, monsieur," he bowed. "If there is need, you will know howto use it. Now, men," he commanded, "we will ride forward in columnof files, and when I shout, spread out into line. A charge shouldcarry us through them. Gallop right through the village and up theroad. Forward!"

  Nowhere, perhaps, were there finer troopers to be found than thosein the French army invading the Peninsula. Napoleon had, in fact,swamped the country with divisions of magnificent cavalry, withnumerous veterans in the ranks, and under leaders skilled in cavalrywork who had taken their squadrons into action many and many atime, and had won victories. The preceding years of this eventfulcampaign in the Peninsula had seen detached parties of Frenchhorsemen penetrating far into country held by Wellington's troops,or by Spanish or Portuguese irregulars; and while the former hadtaught them many a lesson, and had, indeed, shown the French troopsthat if they were brave, the lads from England were equal to them,there is little doubt that, just as Wellington and our armies hadlearned to despise the Portuguese irregulars, and those of Spain inparticular, the French held them even more in contempt. It was thedetached bands of guerrillas, however, that did them the greatestinjury. No wandering party of horsemen could bivouac without fearof having sentries and outposts murdered in the night. Sudden andferocious attacks were frequent, and at this time, when the Frenchwere retreating before our armies, and when without shadow of doubtthey had treated the Portuguese peasantry and townspeople withhorrible cruelty, a detached squadron such as the one Tom accompaniedwas liable to annihilation unless handled with great skill. However,this squadron in particular and its officer seemed to make light ofthe difficulties before them. They were accustomed to the hatred ofthe peasants, accustomed also to see them take to their heels whenthey charged, and disappear in their mountains. It was, therefore,with a cheer, in which Tom and his friends joined, that they joggedforward in column of file, their sabres drawn and ready, their leadera horse's length in advance of them.

  Tom rose in his stirrups and surveyed the enemy. Even through thegloom he could see that there must be two hundred at least gatheredat the entrance of the village through which the squadron must passto reach the road to the heights. Shots came from the mass every nowand again, while there were red flashes from the buildings. Shrillcries of rage and hate reached his ears, and amongst the voices hecould distinguish those of women.

  Phit! Phit! Bullets whizzed overhead, while the trooper next to himsuddenly gave vent to a growl of anger.

  "Struck me in the arm, monsieur," he said, after a few moments. "Iwould rather far receive a wound in proper battle than from thesewolves. But you will see; they will scatter as we charge. We shallcut down a few of the laggards, burn the village, and thus light ourway to the mountains. Poof! The Portuguese are brutes, the Spaniardsare gentlemen beside them."

  That was the way in which the French looked at the nations in thePeninsula. Truth compels us to admit that they had reason for likingthe Spaniards; for not only were they able to play with them as ifthey were children, utterly despising them as soldiers, but also theyobtained real help from them in their campaign, and though Englandhad sent troops to repel the invader, and to help the Spaniardsas well as the Portuguese to rid their country of oppression, yetthroughout the campaign the Spaniards in particular foiled the wishesof Wellington and his generals in every direction. They withheldsupplies even from the wounded. They parted with nothing save at anexorbitant price, and always there were traitors amongst them readyto disclose our plans to the enemy. The Portuguese, too, were notguiltless in this matter; but, on the whole, their irregulars didsome excellent work, and they at least made an attempt to help theBritish to drive Napoleon and his armies out of the Peninsula.

  "Canter!" the command rang out loudly as a wide splash of flamecame from the peasants, while bullets clipped the air, sang shrillyoverhead, and sometimes hit horses or accoutrements. Tom heard asharp metallic sound, and lost a stirrup, shot away by one of thesebullets; but he managed to secure it again, though he was no greathorseman.

  "Form line on the left!" The command rang out, while a
nswering howlsand shouts came from the village. "Charge!"

  Tom could see the commander standing in his stirrups, his swordraised overhead, his face turned towards his men. And thatexhilarating shout, the excitement in the air, the bullets and thecries, sent his blood surging through him. Let us remember that Tomwas young, and possessed of excellent health and spirits, also thatsoldiering was no new ambition with him. Fear for the future hehad none, but all the while he was wondering how the matter wouldprogress, and what would happen supposing the villagers held theirground and refused to be driven from the village. The hammer of thehorses' hoofs, the jingle of bits and stirrups, and the sharp reportsof muskets sent a thrill through his frame from head to foot, and ina moment he was leaning forward like the troopers, his sabre downover his knee, all eagerness to reach the enemy. Nor was it longbefore the squadron got to striking distance. The peasants held theirground till the horses were fifty paces away, and then raced into thehouses. A storm of bullets came from windows and doorways, and then,of a sudden, there was a clatter in front, and the commander of thesquadron disappeared from view entirely. By then Tom was within tenpaces of him; for the formation had brought him to the very centre.

  "Halt!" he bellowed, seeing what had happened. "The road is blocked.The peasants have dug a huge ditch, and the commander has gone intoit. Here--hold my horse!"

  He flung the reins to a trooper riding at his knee, and slid tothe ground. A moment later he was down in the rough and deep ditchwhich the peasants had made ready, and leaning over the unfortunatecommander of the squadron found that he was dead.

  "_Il est mort!_" he shouted to the troopers, making his way back tohis horse at once.

  "Monsieur, this is terrible!" cried the trooper who had held thereins. "We are being shot down rapidly, and nothing is being doneto help us. The captain is dead and his lieutenant; I think thesergeants are also hurt."

  The engagement, so far as the squadron was concerned, had indeed cometo a curious and dangerous halt. The troopers sat bunched together,some of the men reining their horses back as if about to flee. Yetno order came. There was no one to give the word of command. It wasthen that Tom showed the stuff of which he was made. It is true Mr.Riley should perhaps have come to the fore, or Jack; but neithercould speak the language, while, in any case, it was the duty of oneof the troopers to conduct the action. However, when no one comesforward, and men are being shot down rapidly, it is clear that he whotakes command on his shoulders, and acts wisely, is a blessing to hiscomrades. Jack took the post without a thought. To sit still longerwas madness, and quite impossible.

  "Wheel about," he shouted in French. "Ah, they have closed in on us!We are caught between two fires. Forward, men, charge!"

  He led them at the enemy at full gallop; but what could fifty men doagainst some hundreds? It happened that this squadron of horse hadbeen watched by the peasants, and for two days past efforts had beenmade to surround it. The wild inhabitants of this mountainous region,burning with hatred of the invader, had been brought together, andgradually, as the horsemen retreated from the coast and got intodifficult country, the net had been drawn about them. There wereperhaps five hundred peasants in rear of the party when Tom facedthem about and charged. A crashing discharge of musketry sweptthe ranks of the troopers, dropping a dozen of the men from theirsaddles, and then began a rush on the part of the enemy. It looked,indeed, as if the remnant would be annihilated, and slashed to pieceswhere they stood. Tom looked anxiously and swiftly about him, andperceiving a building on the outskirts of the village, a little toone side, he instantly decided to occupy it.

  "Right wheel!" he shouted. "Now gallop to that building. If the dooris big enough, and we can open it, ride right in. Forward! Clear therabble coming towards us."

  It happened that another section of the circle was approaching thescene of the action from the direction of the building towards whichhe and the troopers were now making, and these at once opened fire.But Tom set heels to his horse, and in a minute he and the mensupporting him burst amongst the peasants, slashing at them to rightand left, riding them down, and scattering them in every direction.It was exciting work while it lasted, and it had the effect ofallowing the party a little breathing time. They rode up to the doorof the building, to find it was a church, and in a twinkling the doorwas open. Up the five steps leading to it rode Tom, and after himcame his comrades.

  "Dismount," he commanded. "Draw your carbines and scatter about theplace, to make sure that no windows or doors are open. Two of youstand guard over the horses."

  It was pitch dark within the church; but a trooper quickly discovereda torch, and then some candles stored away in a box.

  "It won't do to keep them burning," said Tom, thinking rapidly. "Thelight would help the enemy to shoot us; but we must have somethingwith which to inspect the place. Ah, I know--Andrews!"

  "Yes, sir?"

  The big rifleman was standing stiffly at attention before Tom, hisarm at the salute.

  "Take the torch and this trooper with you. Go round; return when youhave inspected, and report."

  The soldier saluted again with as much briskness as he would havedisplayed had Tom been a regular officer, and went away with one ofthe troopers whom Tom called.

  "Howeley!" he shouted.

  "Sir?"

  Like Andrews, the man was drawn up with the rigidity of a bayonet.

  "Collect all ammunition, place it in a central position, and dish itout ten rounds at a time. Report the total amount."

  "Yes, sir."

  The fine fellow went off like a rocket to perform the task, while Tomcalled to the troopers.

  "My lads," he shouted, "let us be silent; I have sent a man toinspect the place, and will post you all presently. Another willcollect the ammunition, and give it out ten rounds at a time. Don'tforget that we may be held up here for hours, and our lives willdepend on the amount of cartridges we have. Now, I want two of youfor another purpose."

  Two men at once came forward. "We are ready, monsieur," one of themsaid. "For the moment we and our comrades look to you as the leader.Indeed you are a leader; but for your quickness and decision weshould be back there at the entrance to the village shot down besideour comrades."

  "Then collect all saddle bags," said Tom, "pile them in a corner,and with them all water bottles. They are the most important. I'mnot afraid of starvation; for we have horses here, and one of themslaughtered will provide us with ample food. It is the water that isimportant; see to it, please."

  It was perhaps some ten minutes later that the defences of the churchwere ready. Tom busied himself posting men at all vulnerable spots,and then clambered into the tower with Andrews. It was quite a modesterection, some fifty feet in height, but sufficient to give a viewover the village. Lights could be seen in many directions, whileshouts echoed through the air. There was the tramp of feet also, anda dull mass over at the entrance to the village.

  "They're gloating over the poor chaps they shot and knocked out oftheir saddles, sir," said Andrews. "It was sharp business; I wasnever in a brisker, and I've done two years of the campaign already.Came out in 1808, sir, and went home wounded. Beg pardon, sir, butwhat might your corps be?"

  "Corps? Corps?" exclaimed Tom, mystified for the moment. "Oh, Ifollow! I'm not in the army, Andrews. I was on my way out to Oporto,or, more correctly, I was going to sail for that place when I wasimpressed and sent aboard a British frigate. We had that action withthe French man-of-war, and you were released. News had come out tothe frigate, meanwhile, that I ought never to have been impressed,and so the captain sent me on in the sloop to Oporto. By rights Iought to be seated at a desk adding up long, dry columns."

  Andrews gave vent to a gruff expression. "Strike me!" he cried, asif dumbfounded by the information; "and I and Howeley and all themFrench boys took you for an orficer. Anyways, sir, beggin' yourpardon, you've done handsomely. It was a lucky thing for us that youtook the command, for Mr. Barwood ain't fit for it. He got knockedout by the first bullet almost,
and it was as much as he could doto stick to his saddle till we reached here. Mr. Riley ain't nobetter. If Howeley hadn't held him he'd have been left outside to bemurdered. This here's a tough little business."

  It proved, in fact, a fortunate thing for all concerned that Tomhad taken the command. There are some who might express the opinionthat he should not have done so, that it displayed an uppish spirit.Granted all that; but uppishness is just what is required in momentsof stress and danger. The lad who is modest at all times, and yet whocan come to the fore when circumstances urgently call for a leader,is a lad of the right sort, a benefactor to his comrades. In thiscase Tom had undoubtedly done the right thing, and, moreover, haddone it well.

  "It was real smart," said Andrews respectfully. "Beggin' pardonagain, sir; there's many who would have been cornered. To go forwardwas impossible, to retreat out of the question, seeing as therewere three hundred or more of the ruffians behind us. This was theonly course. It's queer to think that we, who are fighting for thePortuguese against the French, should be boxed up here in danger ofhaving our throats slit by those who ought to be friends."

  "It's the fortune of war, Andrews," declared Tom. "I'm sorry for thewretches outside. By all accounts the French hate them intensely, forthe Portuguese have shown more spirit than have the Spanish. Theyhave contested the rights of the invaders from the beginning, andas a result the French have burned their villages and treated thembadly. Indeed I believe they have behaved with the grossest cruelty.As a result there are reprisals, and we are swept up in one of these,and are likely to have a warm time of it before we are free."

  "It's bound to be an ugly business," admitted Andrews. "I can hearthem coming now."

  "Then we'll go to the men," said Tom. "I'll give them orders not tofire till I tell them. Of course I shall make an attempt to win overthe peasants."

  "Eh? How's that, sir?" asked Andrews. "What about their lingo?"

  "You forget I was meant for Oporto. I and my family have hadassociations with Portugal and Spain for a long while, and my cousinsare Spanish. I speak both languages, but not well, I fear. I alwayshated lessons, and now wish to goodness I had been a little morediligent. However, I can make myself understood easily, and will tryto win the peasants over."

  They clambered down the long, rough ladder that led from the belfry,and went amongst the men, Tom warning all of them to hold their firetill he shouted. Meanwhile Howeley had reported to him that therewas ammunition sufficient to supply each man with forty-two rounds.As for food and drink, to his dismay he was informed that there waslittle of either; so that it looked as if the contest could not lastfor long.

  "We've just twenty-two men all told, counting yourself and the otherofficers," reported Andrews, some minutes later, saluting Tom asif he had no doubt as to his position. "Every window and door isguarded, and from what I can see of the troopers they are ready forany fighting. It's queer to think that we who were prisoners are incommand, and no difficulty about it."

  There was little doubt that the situation was more or less unique,and caused Mr. Riley the utmost amusement. He, poor fellow, had beenstruck in the ribs somewhat heavily, and lay in a corner, with Jackclose beside him; but he smiled when our hero at length had time toapproach him.

  "My lad, you've done right well; you're a dead loss to the navy," hesmiled. "I'm not surprised; after what I saw aboard the frigate Ifelt you would do something. Jack and I haven't worried you since wegot here, as we saw you wanted freedom to think and arrange matters;but we're glad now that you're able to spare a few minutes. What willhappen?"

  Tom stayed with them for a quarter of an hour, and now that he feltthat he had done all that was possible in arranging the defence, heemployed his wits and energies in seeing to his comrades. In thecase of Mr. Riley, he, with the help of Andrews and Howeley, boundhis chest very firmly with a couple of girths taken from the horses,first of all, however, placing a pad over the wound, which was littlemore than a contusion. For Jack equally simple surgery sufficed, fora bullet had penetrated his thigh, and, the bleeding having stopped,all that was wanted was a dressing and a bandage, and fortunatelythe troopers carried these with them. They had hardly made himcomfortable when the lookout man posted in the tower reported that amass of men were coming.

  "Remember--not a shot, my friends," Tom called out to the troops,"and take care not to show a light. I will see to these people andtry to win them over."

  He scrambled up an ancient flight of stone steps and passed on toa ledge over the doorway, which, no doubt, served the purpose ofa pulpit in fine weather. There was a dull roar of voices comingtowards him, while the space between himself and the village seemedto be filled with figures. Ten minutes later a mob had drawn up infront of the church. Tom stood to his full height and hailed them.

  "My friends," he shouted in Portuguese. "We are English!"

  A fearful yell answered him. Shrieks of anger floated up to his ears,while a hurricane of shots swept in his direction. Amidst the dancingtorches that many of the people carried there flashed out splashesof flame. The vibrating roar of voices which followed had in it anawe-inspiring note. Tom might have been on the verge of a rocky coaston which huge breakers were thundering in their fury. That note spokeof hatred, of an approaching triumph, of a horrible gloating on thepart of the peasants. It told better than individual words could dowhat were the intentions of the enemy, what would be the fate of thebesieged if they fell into their hands. Then, of a sudden, catching abetter view perhaps of the solitary figure above them, the mob becamesilent.

  "My friends," called Tom, his tones clear, not a whimper in hisvoice, "you have made an error. There are five Englishmen amongstthis party, five friends of the Portuguese. Let someone come forwardto identify us."

  There might have been a mob of wild beasts outside by the answer. Thecrowd, thinking no doubt that one of the Frenchmen was attempting tofool them, and rob them of a prey they now counted upon as their own,shrieked aloud and came surging forward. More shots rang out, stoneswere thrown; and then, with a loud crash, the leaders came againstthe door of the church. Tom clambered down to his men, stern andpale and determined.

  "Post three of them up on the ledge," he told Andrews, who was avaluable help to him. "Let others fire through the windows when Ishout. Don't fire till then."

  He repeated the words in French, and then waited till there came astunning blow upon the door, a blow which shook it to the hinges andthreatened to throw it down. It was clear, in fact, that the moboutside were longing to get at the troopers. Shouts and oaths couldbe heard, while the clatter of firearms was incessant.