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Mr. Fortescue by William Westall

W >> William Westall >> Mr. Fortescue




I got up at once, and after drinking a hasty cup of coffee, we mounted and
joined Griscelli and his staff.

The troops were already under arms, and a few minutes later we marched,
our departure being so timed, as I heard the general observe to one of his
aides-de-camp, that we might reach the neighborhood of the rebel camp
shortly before sunrise. His plan was well conceived, and, unless Mejia had
been forewarned or was keeping a sharper lookout than he was in the habit
of doing, I feared it would go ill with him.

The camping-ground was much better suited for concealment than defence. It
lay in a hollow in the hills, in shape like a horse-shoe, with a single
opening, looking east, and was commanded in every direction by wooded
heights. Griscelli's plan was to occupy the heights with skirmishers, who,
hidden behind the trees and bushes, could shoot down the rebels with
comparative security. A force of infantry and cavalry would meanwhile take
possession of the opening and cut off their retreat. In this way, thought
Griscelli, the patriots would either be slaughtered to a man, or compelled
to surrender at discretion.

I could not deny (though I did not say so) that he had good grounds for
this opinion. The only hope for Mejia was that, alarmed by our
disappearance, he had stationed outposts on the heights and a line of
vedettes on the San Felipe road, and fortified the entrance to the
_quebrada_. In that case the attack might be repulsed, despite the
superiority of the Spanish infantry and the disadvantages of Mejia's
position. But the probabilities were against his having taken any of these
precautions; the last thing he thought of was being attacked, and I could
hardly doubt that he would be fatally entangled in the toils which were
being laid for him.

While these thoughts were passing through my mind we were marching rapidly
and silently toward our destination, lighted only by the stars. The force
consisted of two brigades, the second of which, commanded by General
Estero, had gone on half an hour previously. I was with the first and rode
with Griscelli's staff. So far there had not been the slightest hitch, and
the Spaniards promised themselves an easy victory.

It had been arranged that the first brigade should wait, about a mile from
the entrance to the valley until Estero opened fire, and then advance and
occupy the outlet. Therefore, when we reached the point in question a halt
was called, and we all listened eagerly for the preconcerted signal.

And then occurred one of those accidents which so often mar the best laid
plans. After we had waited a full hour, and just as day began to break,
the rattle of musketry was heard on the heights, whereupon Griscelli,
keenly alive to the fact that every moment of delay impaired his chances
of success, ordered his men to fall in and march at the double. But,
unfortunately for the Spaniards, the shots we had heard were fired too
soon. The way through the woods was long and difficult, Estero's men got
out of hand; some of them, in their excitement, fired too soon, with the
result that, when the first division appeared in the valley, the patriots,
rudely awakened from their fancied security, were getting under arms, and
Mejia saw at a glance into what a terrible predicament his overconfidence
had led him. He saw also (for though an indifferent general he was no
fool) that the only way of saving his army from destruction, was to break
out of the valley at all hazards, before the Spaniards enclosed him in a
ring of fire.

Mejia took his measures accordingly. Placing his _llaneros_ and _gauchos_
in front and the infantry in the rear, he advanced resolutely to the
attack; and though it is contrary to rule for light cavalry to charge
infantry, this order, considering the quality of the rebel foot, was
probably the best which he could adopt.

On the other hand, the Spanish position was very strong, Griscelli massed
his infantry in the throat of the _quebrada_, the thickets on either side
of it being occupied in force. The reserve consisted exclusively of horse,
an arm in which he was by no means strong. Mejia was thus encompassed on
three sides, and had his foes reserved their fire and stood their ground,
he could not possibly have broken through them. But the Spaniards opened
fire as soon as the rebels came within range. Before they could reload,
the _gauchos_ charged, and though many saddles were emptied, the rebel
horse rode so resolutely and their long spears looked so formidable, that
the Spaniards gave way all along the line, and took refuge among the
trees, thereby leaving the patriots a free course.

This was the turning-point of the battle, and had the rebel infantry shown
as much courage as their cavalry the Spaniards would have been utterly
beaten; but their only idea was to get away; they bolted as fast as their
legs could carry them, an example which was promptly imitated by the
Spanish cavalry, who instead of charging the rebel horse in flank as they
emerged from the valley, galloped off toward San Felipe, followed _nolens
volens_ by Griscelli and his staff.

It was the only battle I ever saw or heard of in which both sides ran
away. If Mejia had gone to San Felipe he might have taken it without
striking a blow, but besides having lost many of his brave _llaneros_, he
had his unfortunate infantry to rally and protect, and the idea probably
never occurred to him.

As for the Spanish infantry, they stayed in the woods till the coast was
clear, and then hied them home.

Griscelli was wild with rage. To have his well-laid plans thwarted by
cowardice and stupidity, the easy victory he had promised himself turned
into an ignominious defeat at the very moment when, had his orders been
obeyed, the fortunes of the day might have been retrieved--all this would
have proved a severe trial for a hero or a saint, and certainly Griscelli
bore his reverse neither with heroic fortitude nor saintly resignation. He
cursed like the jackdaw of Rheims, threatened dire vengeance on all and
sundry, and killed one of the runaway troopers with his own hand. I
narrowly escaped sharing the same fate. Happening to catch sight of me
when his passion was at the height he swore that he would shoot at least
one rebel, and drawing a pistol from his holster pointed it at my head. I
owed my life to Captain Guzman, who was one of the best and bravest of his
officers.

"Pray don't do that, general," he said. "It would be an ill requital for
Senor Fortescue's faithful observance of his parole. And you promised to
let him go."

"Promised to let him go! So I did, and I will be as good as my word,"
returned Griscelli, grimly, as he uncocked his pistol. "Yes, he shall go."

"Now?"

"No. To-night. Meet me, both of you, near the old sugar-mill on the
savanna when the moon rises; and give him a good supper, Guzman; he will
need it."




CHAPTER XVI.

THE AZUFERALES.


"What is General Griscelli's game? Does he really mean to let me go, or is
he merely playing with me as a cat plays with a mouse?" I asked Guzman, as
we sat at supper.

"That is just the question I have been asking myself. I never knew him let
a prisoner go before, and I know of no reason why he should treat you more
leniently than he treats others. Do you?"

"No. He is more likely to bear me a grudge," and then I told Guzman what
had befallen at Salamanca.

"That makes it still less probable that he will let you go away quietly.
Griscelli never forgives, and to-day's fiasco has put him in a devil of a
temper. He is malicious, too. We have all to be careful not to offend him,
even in trifles, or he would make life very unpleasant for us, and I fear
he has something very unpleasant in store for you. You may depend upon it
that he is meditating some trick. He is quite capable of letting you go as
far as the bridge, and then bringing you back and hanging you or fastening
you to the tail of a wild mustang or the horns of a wild bull. That also
would be letting you go."

"So it would, in a fashion! and I should prefer it to being hanged."

"I don't think I would. The hanging would be sooner over and far less
painful. And there are many other ways--he might have your hands tied
behind your back and cannon-balls fastened to your feet, and then leave
you to your own devices."

"That would not be so bad. We should find some good soul to release us,
and I think I could contrive to untie Carmen's bonds with my teeth."

"Or he might cut off your ears and put out your eyes--"

"For Heaven's sake cease these horrible suggestions! You make my blood run
cold. But you cannot be serious. Is Griscelli in the habit of putting out
the eyes of his prisoners?"

"Not that I am aware of; but I have heard him threaten to do it, and known
him to cut off a rebel's ears first and hang him afterward. All the same I
don't think he is likely to treat you in that way. It might get to the
ears of the captain-general, and though he is not very particular where
rebels are concerned, he draws the line at mutilation."

"We shall soon see; we have to be at the old sugar-mill when the moon
rises," I said, gloomily, for the prospect held out by Guzman was anything
but encouraging.

"And that will be soon. If I see any way of helping you, without
compromising myself, I will. Hospitality has its duties, and I cannot
forget that you have fought and bled for Spain. Have another drink; you
don't know what is before you? And take this knife--it will serve also as
a dagger--and this pocket-pistol. Put them where they will not be seen.
You may find them useful."

"_Gracias!_ But you surely don't think we shall be sent adrift weaponless
and on foot?"

"That is as it may be; but it is well to provide for contingencies. And
now let us start; nothing irritates Griscelli so much as having to wait."

So, girding on our swords (mine had been restored to me "by special
favor," when I gave my parole), we mounted our horses, which were waiting
at the door, and set out.

The savanna was a wide stretch of open ground outside the fortifications,
where reviews were held and the troops performed their evolutions; it lay
on the north side of the town. Farther on in the same direction was a
range of low hills, thickly wooded and ill provided with roads. The
country to the east and west was pretty much in the same condition.
Southward it was more open, and a score of miles away merged into the
llanos.

"We are in good time; the moon is only just rising, and I don't think
there is anybody before us," said Guzman, as we neared the old sugar-mill,
a dilapidated wooden building, shaded by cebia-trees and sombrero palms.

"But there is somebody behind us," I said, looking back. "A squadron of
cavalry at the least."

"Griscelli, I suppose, and Carmen. But why is the general bringing so many
people with him, I wonder? And don't I see dogs?"

"Rather! A pack of hounds, I should say."

"You are right; they are Griscelli's blood-hounds. Is it possible that a
prisoner or a slave has escaped, and Griscelli will ask us to join in the
hunt?"

"Join in the hunt! You surely don't mean that you hunt men in this
country?"

"Sometimes--when the men are slaves or rebels. It is a sport the general
greatly enjoys. Yet it seems very strange; at this time of night,
too--_Dios mio!_ can it be possible?"

"Can what be possible, Captain Guzman?" I exclaimed, in some excitement,
for a terrible suspicion had crossed my mind.

"Can what be possible? In Heaven's name speak out!"

But, instead of answering, Guzman went forward to meet Griscelli. I
followed him.

"Good-evening, gentlemen," said the general; "I am glad you are so
punctual. I have brought your friend, Senor Fortescue. As you were taken
together, it seems only right that you should be released together. It
would be a pity to separate such good friends. You see, I am as good as my
word. You don't speak. Are you not grateful?"

"That depends on the conditions, general."

"I make no conditions whatever. I let you go--neither more nor
less--whither you will. But I must warn you that, twenty minutes after you
are gone, I shall lay on my hounds. If you outrun them, well and good; if
not, _tant pis pour vous_. I shall have kept my word. Are you not
grateful, senor Fortescue?"

"No; why should I be grateful for a death more terrible than hanging. Kill
us at once, and have done with it. You are a disgrace to the noble
profession of arms, general, and the time will come--"

"Another word, and I will throw you to the hounds without further parley,"
broke in Griscelli, savagely.

"Better keep quiet; there is nothing to be gained by roiling him,"
whispered Carmen.

I took his advice and held my peace, all the more willingly as there was
something in Carmen's manner which implied that he did not think our case
quite so desperate as might appear.

"Dismount and give up your weapons," said Griscelli.

Resistance being out of the question, we obeyed with the best grace we
could; but I bitterly regretted having to part with the historic Toledo
and my horse Pizarro; he had carried me well, and we thoroughly understood
each other. The least I could do was to give him his freedom, and, as I
patted his neck by way of bidding him farewell, I slipped the bit out of
his mouth, and let him go.

"Hallo! What is that--a horse loose? Catch him, some of you," shouted
Griscelli, who had been talking with his huntsman and Captain Guzman,
whereupon two of the troopers rode off in pursuit, a proceeding which made
Pizarro gallop all the faster, and I knew that, follow him as long as they
might, they would not overtake him.

Griscelli resumed his conversation with Captain Guzman, an opportunity by
which I profited to glance at the hounds, and though I was unable just
then to regard them with very kindly feelings, I could not help admiring
them. Taller and more strongly built than fox-hounds, muscular and
broad-chested, with pendulous ears and upper lips, and stern, thoughtful
faces, they were splendid specimens of the canine race; even sized too,
well under control, and in appearance no more ferocious than other hounds.
Why should they be? All hounds are blood-hounds in a sense, and it is
probably indifferent to them whether they pursue a fox, a deer, or a man;
it is entirely a matter of training.

"I am going to let you have more law than I mentioned just now" said
Griscelli, turning to Carmen and me. "Captain Guzman, here, and the
huntsmen think twenty minutes would not give us much of a run--these
hounds are very fast--so I shall make it forty. But you must first submit
to a little operation. Make them ready, Jose."

Whereupon one of the attendants, producing a bottle, smeared our shoes and
legs with a liquid which looked like blood, and was, no doubt, intended to
insure a good scent and render our escape impossible. While this was going
on Carmen and I took off our coats and threw them on the ground."

"When I give the word you may start," said Griscelli, "and forty minutes
afterward the hounds will be laid on--Now!"

"This way! Toward the hills!" said Carmen. "Are you in good condition?"

"Never better."

"We must make all the haste we can, before the hounds are laid on. If we
can keep this up we shall reach the hills in forty minutes--perhaps less."

"And then? These hounds will follow us for ever--no possibility of
throwing them out--unless--is there a river?"

"None near enough, still--"

"You have hope, then--"

"Just a little--I have an idea--if we can go on running two hours--have
you a flint and steel?"

"Yes, and a loaded pistol and a knife."

"Good! That is better than I thought. But don't talk. We shall want every
bit of breath in our bodies before we have done. This way! By the
cane-piece there!"

With heads erect, arms well back, and our chests expanded to their utmost
capacity we sped silently onward; and although we do not despair we
realize to the full that we are running for our lives; grim Death is on
our track and only by God's help and good fortune can we hope to escape.

Across the savanna, past corn-fields and cane-pieces we race without
pause--looking neither to the right nor left--until we reach the road
leading to the hills. Here we stop a few seconds, take a few deep breaths,
and then, on again. So far, the road has been tolerable, almost level and
free from obstructions. But now it begins to rise, and is so rugged withal
that we have to slow our speed and pick our way. Farther on it is the dry
bed of a torrent, cumbered with loose stones and erratic blocks, among
which we have to struggle painfully.

"This is bad," gasps Carmen. "The hounds must be gaining on us fast."

"Yes, but the scent will be very catching among these stones. They won't
run fast here. Let us jump from block to block instead of walking over the
pebbles. It will make it all the better for us and worse for them."

On this suggestion we straightway act, but we find the striding and
jumping so exhausting, and the risk of slipping and breaking a limb so
great, that we are presently compelled to betake ourselves once more to
the bed of the stream.

"Never mind," says Carmen, "we shall soon be out of this valley of stones,
and the hounds will not find it easy to pick up the scent hereabout. If we
only keep out of their jaws another half-hour!"

"Of course, we shall--and more--I hope for ever. We can go on for another
hour. But what is your point?"

"The _azuferales_."

"The _azuferales_! What are the _azuferales_"

"I cannot explain now. You will see. If we get there ten or fifteen
minutes before the hounds we shall have a good chance of escaping them."

"And how long?"

"That depends--perhaps twenty."

"Then, in Heaven's name, lead on. It is life or death? Even five minutes
may make all the difference. Which way?"

"By this trail to the right, and through the forest."

The trail is a broad grass-grown path, not unlike a "ride" in an English
wood, bordered by trees and thick undergrowth, but fairly lighted by the
moonbeams, and, fortunately for us, rather downhill, with no obstacles
more formidable than fallen branches, and here and there a prostrate
monarch of the forest, which we easily surmount.

As we go on I notice that the character of the vegetation begins to
change. The trees are less leafy, the undergrowth is less dense, and a
mephitic odor pervades the air. Presently the foliage disappears
altogether, and the trees and bushes are as bare as if they had been
stricken with the blast of an Arctic winter; but instead of being whitened
with snow or silvered with frost they are covered with an incrustation,
which in the brilliant moonlight makes them look like trees and bushes of
gold. Over their tops rise faint wreaths of yellowish clouds and the
mephitic odor becomes more pronounced.

"At last!" shouts Carmen, as we reach the end of the trail. "At last!
_Amigo mio_, we are saved!"

Before us stretches a wide treeless waste like a turf moor, with a
background of sombre forest. The moor, which is broken into humps and
hillocks, smokes and boils and babbles like the hell-broth of Macbeth's
witches, and across it winds, snake-wise, a steaming brook. Here and there
is a stagnant pool, and underneath can be heard a dull roar, as if an
imprisoned ocean were beating on a pebble-strewed shore. There is an
unmistakable smell of sulphur, and the ground on which we stand, as well
as the moor itself, is of a deep-yellow cast.

This, then, is the _azuferales_--a region of sulphur springs, a brimstone
inferno, a volcano in the making. No hounds will follow us over that
hideous heath and through that Stygian stream.

"Can we get across and live?" I ask. "Will it bear?"

"I think so. But out with your knife and cut some twigs; and where are
your flint and steel?"

"What are you going to do ?"

"Set the forest on fire--the wind is from us--and instead of following us
farther--and who knows that they won't try?--instead of following us
farther they will have to hark back and run for their lives."

Without another word we set to work gathering twigs, which we place among
the trees. Then I dig up with my knife and add to the heap several pieces
of the brimstone impregnated turf. This done, I strike a light with my
flint and steel.

"Good!" exclaims Carmen. "In five minutes it will be ablaze; in ten, a
brisk fire;" and with that we throw on more turf and several heavy
branches which, for the moment, almost smother it up.

"Never mind, it still burns, and--hark! What is that?"

"The baying of the hounds and the cries of the hunters. They are nearer
than I thought. To the _azuferales_ for our lives!"

The moor, albeit in some places yielding and in others treacherous, did
not, as I feared, prove impassable. By threading our way between the
smoking sulphur heaps and carefully avoiding the boiling springs we found
it possible to get on, yet slowly and with great difficulty; and it soon
became evident that, long before we gain the forest the hounds will be on
the moor. Their deep-throated baying and the shouts of the field grow
every moment louder and more distinct. If we are viewed we shall be lost;
for if the blood-hounds catch sight of us not even the terrors of the
_azuferales_ will balk them of their prey. And to our dismay the fire does
not seem to be taking hold. We can see nothing of it but a few faint
sparks gleaming through the bushes.

But where can we hide? The moor is flat and treeless, the forest two or
three miles away in a straight line, and we can go neither straight nor
fast. If we cower behind one of the smoking brimstone mounds we shall be
stifled; if we jump into one of the boiling springs we shall be scalded.

"Where can we hide?" I ask.

"Where can we hide?" repeated Carmen.

"That pool! Don't you see that, a little farther on, the brook forms a
pool, and, though it smokes, I don't think it is very hot."

"It is just the place," and with that Carmen runs forward and plunges in.

I follow him, first taking the precaution to lay my pistol and knife on
the edge. The water, though warm, is not uncomfortably hot, and when we
sit down our heads are just out of the water.

We are only just in time. Two minutes later the hounds, with a great
crash, burst out of the forest, followed at a short interval by half a
dozen horsemen.

"Curse this brimstone! It has ruined the scent," I heard Griscelli say, as
the hounds threw up their heads and came to a dead stop. "If I had thought
those _ladrones_ would run hither I would not have given them twenty
minutes, much less forty. But they cannot be far off; depend upon it, they
are hiding somewhere.--_Por Dios_, Sheba has it! Good dog! Hark to Sheba!
Forward, forward!"

It was true. One of the hounds had hit off the line, then followed another
and another, and soon the entire pack was once more in full cry. But the
scent was very bad, and seemed to grow worse; there was a check every few
yards, and when they got to the brook (which had as many turns and twists
as a coiled rope), they were completely at fault. Nevertheless, they
persevered, questing about all over the moor, except in the neighborhood
of the sulphur mounds and the springs.

While this was going on the horsemen had tethered their steeds and were
following on foot, riding over the _azuferales_ being manifestly out of
the question. Once Griscelli and Sheba, who appeared to be queen of the
pack, came so near the pool that if we had not promptly lowered our heads
to the level of the water they would certainly have seen us.

"I am afraid they have given us the slip," I heard Griscelli say. "There
is not a particle of scent. But if they have not fallen into one of those
springs and got boiled, I'll have them yet--even though I stop all night,
or come again to-morrow."

"_Mira! Mira!_ General, the forest is on fire!" shouted somebody. "And the
horses--see, they are trying to get loose!"

Then followed curses and cries of dismay, the huntsman sounded his horn to
call off the hounds and Carmen and I, raising our heads, saw a sight that
made us almost shout for joy.

The fire, which all this time must have been smouldering unseen, had burst
into a great blaze, trees and bushes were wrapped in sulphurous flames,
which, fanned by the breeze, were spreading rapidly. The very turf was
aglow; two of the horses had broken loose and were careering madly about;
the others were tugging wildly at their lariats.

Meanwhile Griscelli and his companions, followed by the hounds, were
making desperate haste to get back to the trail and reach the valley of
stones. But the road was rough, and in attempting to take short cuts
several of them came to grief. Two fell into a deep pool and had to be
fished out. Griscelli put his foot into one of the boiling springs, and,
judging from the loud outcry he made, got badly scalded.

By the time the hunters were clear of the moor the loose horses had
disappeared in the forest, and the trees on either side of the trail were
festooned with flames. Then there was mounting in hot haste, and the
riders, led by Griscelli (the two dismounted men holding on to their
stirrup leathers), and followed by the howling and terrified hounds, tore
off at the top of their speed.

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