"Halt!" he bellowed, seeing what had happened. "The road is blocked. The peasants have dug a huge ditch, and the commander has gone into it. Here—hold my horse!"
He flung the reins to a trooper riding at his knee, and slid to the ground. A moment later he was down in the rough and deep ditch which the peasants had made ready, and leaning over the unfortunate commander of the squadron found that he was dead.
"Il est mort!" he shouted to the troopers, making his way back to his horse at once.
"Monsieur, this is terrible!" cried the trooper who had held the reins. "We are being shot down rapidly, and nothing is being done to help us. The captain is dead and his lieutenant; I think the sergeants are also hurt."
The engagement, so far as the squadron was concerned, had indeed come to a curious and dangerous halt. The troopers sat bunched together, some of the men reining their horses back as if about to flee. Yet no order came. There was no one to give the word of command. It was then 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 one of the troopers to conduct the action. However, when no one comes forward, and men are being shot down rapidly, it is clear that he who takes command on his shoulders, and acts wisely, is a blessing to his comrades. Jack took the post without a thought. To sit still longer was 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 do against some hundreds? It happened that this squadron of horse had been watched by the peasants, and for two days past efforts had been made to surround it. The wild inhabitants of this mountainous region, burning with hatred of the invader, had been brought together, and gradually, as the horsemen retreated from the coast and got into difficult country, the net had been drawn about them. There were perhaps five hundred peasants in rear of the party when Tom faced them about and charged. A crashing discharge of musketry swept the ranks of the troopers, dropping a dozen of the men from their saddles, and then began a rush on the part of the enemy. It looked, indeed, as if the remnant would be annihilated, and slashed to pieces where they stood. Tom looked anxiously and swiftly about him, and perceiving a building on the outskirts of the village, a little to one side, he instantly decided to occupy it.
"Right wheel!" he shouted. "Now gallop to that building. If the door is big enough, and we can open it, ride right in. Forward! Clear the rabble coming towards us."
It happened that another section of the circle was approaching the scene of the action from the direction of the building towards which he 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 men supporting him burst amongst the peasants, slashing at them to right and left, riding them down, and scattering them in every direction. It was exciting work while it lasted, and it had the effect of allowing the party a little breathing time. They rode up to the door of the building, to find it was a church, and in a twinkling the door was open. Up the five steps leading to it rode Tom, and after him came his comrades.
"Dismount," he commanded. "Draw your carbines and scatter about the place, to make sure that no windows or doors are open. Two of you stand guard over the horses."
It was pitch dark within the church; but a trooper quickly discovered a torch, and then some candles stored away in a box.
"It won't do to keep them burning," said Tom, thinking rapidly. "The light would help the enemy to shoot us; but we must have something with which to inspect the place. Ah, I know—Andrews!"
"Yes, sir?"
The big rifleman was standing stiffly at attention before Tom, his arm at the salute.
"Take the torch and this trooper with you. Go round; return when you have inspected, and report."
The soldier saluted again with as much briskness as he would have displayed had Tom been a regular officer, and went away with one of the 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 it out ten rounds at a time. Report the total amount."
"Yes, sir."
The fine fellow went off like a rocket to perform the task, while Tom called to the troopers.
"My lads," he shouted, "let us be silent; I have sent a man to inspect the place, and will post you all presently. Another will collect the ammunition, and give it out ten rounds at a time. Don't forget that we may be held up here for hours, and our lives will depend on the amount of cartridges we have. Now, I want two of you for another purpose."
Two men at once came forward. "We are ready, monsieur," one of them said. "For the moment we and our comrades look to you as the leader. Indeed you are a leader; but for your quickness and decisionwe should be back there at the entrance to the village shot down beside our 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'm not afraid of starvation; for we have horses here, and one of them slaughtered will provide us with ample food. It is the water that is important; see to it, please."
It was perhaps some ten minutes later that the defences of the church were ready. Tom busied himself posting men at all vulnerable spots, and then clambered into the tower with Andrews. It was quite a modest erection, some fifty feet in height, but sufficient to give a view over the village. Lights could be seen in many directions, while shouts echoed through the air. There was the tramp of feet also, and a dull mass over at the entrance to the village.
"They're gloating over the poor chaps they shot and knocked out of their saddles, sir," said Andrews. "It was sharp business; I was never 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, but what might your corps be?"
"Corps? Corps?" exclaimed Tom, mystified for the moment. "Oh, I follow! 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 was impressed and sent aboard a British frigate. We had that action with the French man-of-war, and you were released. News had come out to the frigate,meanwhile, that I ought never to have been impressed, and so the captain sent me on in the sloop to Oporto. By rights I ought to be seated at a desk adding up long, dry columns."
Andrews gave vent to a gruff expression. "Strike me!" he cried, as if dumbfounded by the information; "and I and Howeley and all them French boys took you for an orficer. Anyways, sir, beggin' your pardon, you've done handsomely. It was a lucky thing for us that you took the command, for Mr. Barwood ain't fit for it. He got knocked out by the first bullet almost, and it was as much as he could do to stick to his saddle till we reached here. Mr. Riley ain't no better. If Howeley hadn't held him he'd have been left outside to be murdered. This here's a tough little business."
It proved, in fact, a fortunate thing for all concerned that Tom had taken the command. There are some who might express the opinion that he should not have done so, that it displayed an uppish spirit. Granted all that; but uppishness is just what is required in moments of stress and danger. The lad who is modest at all times, and yet who can come to the fore when circumstances urgently call for a leader, is a lad of the right sort, a benefactor to his comrades. In this case Tom had undoubtedly done the right thing, and, moreover, had done it well.
"It was real smart," said Andrews respectfully. "Beggin' pardon again, sir; there's many who wouldhave been cornered. To go forward was impossible, to retreat out of the question, seeing as there were three hundred or more of the ruffians behind us. This was the only course. It's queer to think that we, who are fighting for the Portuguese against the French, should be boxed up here in danger of having our throats slit by those who ought to be friends."
"It's the fortune of war, Andrews," declared Tom. "I'm sorry for the wretches outside. By all accounts the French hate them intensely, for the Portuguese have shown more spirit than have the Spanish. They have contested the rights of the invaders from the beginning, and as a result the French have burned their villages and treated them badly. 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 hear them coming now."
"Then we'll go to the men," said Tom. "I'll give them orders not to fire till I tell them. Of course I shall make an attempt to win over the peasants."
"Eh? How's that, sir?" asked Andrews. "What about their lingo?"
"You forget I was meant for Oporto. I and my family have had associations with Portugal and Spain for a long while, and my cousins are Spanish. I speak both languages, but not well, I fear. I always hated lessons, and now wish to goodness I had beena little more diligent. However, I can make myself understood easily, and will try to 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 fire till he shouted. Meanwhile Howeley had reported to him that there was ammunition sufficient to supply each man with forty-two rounds. As for food and drink, to his dismay he was informed that there was little of either; so that it looked as if the contest could not last for long.
"We've just twenty-two men all told, counting yourself and the other officers," reported Andrews, some minutes later, saluting Tom as if he had no doubt as to his position. "Every window and door is guarded, and from what I can see of the troopers they are ready for any fighting. It's queer to think that we who were prisoners are in command, 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 been struck in the ribs somewhat heavily, and lay in a corner, with Jack close beside him; but he smiled when our hero at length had time to approach him.
"My lad, you've done right well; you're a dead loss to the navy," he smiled. "I'm not surprised; after what I saw aboard the frigate I felt you would do something. Jack and I haven't worried you sincewe got 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 will happen?"
Tom stayed with them for a quarter of an hour, and now that he felt that he had done all that was possible in arranging the defence, he employed his wits and energies in seeing to his comrades. In the case of Mr. Riley, he, with the help of Andrews and Howeley, bound his chest very firmly with a couple of girths taken from the horses, first of all, however, placing a pad over the wound, which was little more than a contusion. For Jack equally simple surgery sufficed, for a bullet had penetrated his thigh, and, the bleeding having stopped, all that was wanted was a dressing and a bandage, and fortunately the troopers carried these with them. They had hardly made him comfortable when the lookout man posted in the tower reported that a mass 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 and try to win them over."
He scrambled up an ancient flight of stone steps and passed on to a ledge over the doorway, which, no doubt, served the purpose of a pulpit in fine weather. There was a dull roar of voices coming towards him, while the space between himself and the village seemed to be filled with figures. Ten minutes later a mob had drawn up in front 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 dancing torches that many of the people carried there flashed out splashes of flame. The vibrating roar of voices which followed had in it an awe-inspiring note. Tom might have been on the verge of a rocky coast on which huge breakers were thundering in their fury. That note spoke of hatred, of an approaching triumph, of a horrible gloating on the part of the peasants. It told better than individual words could do what were the intentions of the enemy, what would be the fate of the besieged if they fell into their hands. Then, of a sudden, catching a better view perhaps of the solitary figure above them, the mob became silent.
"My friends," called Tom, his tones clear, not a whimper in his voice, "you have made an error. There are five Englishmen amongst this party, five friends of the Portuguese. Let someone come forward to identify us."
There might have been a mob of wild beasts outside by the answer. The crowd, thinking no doubt that one of the Frenchmen was attempting to fool them, and rob them of a prey they now counted upon as their own, shrieked aloud and came surging forward. More shots rang out, stones were thrown; and then, with a loud crash, the leaders came against thedoor of the church. Tom clambered down to his men, stern and pale and determined.
"Post three of them up on the ledge," he told Andrews, who was a valuable help to him. "Let others fire through the windows when I shout. Don't fire till then."
He repeated the words in French, and then waited till there came a stunning blow upon the door, a blow which shook it to the hinges and threatened to throw it down. It was clear, in fact, that the mob outside were longing to get at the troopers. Shouts and oaths could be heard, while the clatter of firearms was incessant.
Within the village church in which the French troopers and their one-time English prisoners had taken refuge under Tom Clifford's guidance there was a deathly silence while the mob outside shrieked and shouted. Not one of the defenders but knew what fate awaited them if once the enemy beat in the doors, and knowing that they listened as blow after blow thundered upon the woodwork, shaking the doors till they threatened to fall down.
"Andrews," shouted Tom, who had been listening acutely like the rest, and wondering what action he ought to take, "light up one of the torches and take a couple of men with you. We want something to place behind the doors, for in a little while they will be beaten in. Meanwhile I will try again to pacify the peasants."
It was a forlorn hope, and yet worth trying. Tom, therefore, clambered up the steep flight of stone steps again, while Andrews went off to do his bidding. Stepping past the three men who had ascended to the ledge above the crowd our hero once more stood to hisfull height and shouted to attract the attention of the peasants. And once more his coming was the signal for an outburst of shouts, shrieks, groans, and hisses which might well have appalled a brave man. Muskets flashed in the semi-darkness, for night had now come, while here and there torches flamed over the heads of the people. Bullets spattered and broke against the stonework about him, thudding heavily, even splashing him with portions of lead. One enthusiast, in fact, as if driven frantic by the sight of his person, made a vain attempt to clamber up the ledge, and, missing his footing, fell back upon the crowd, his coming setting rise to oaths and shouts of anger. Then there fell a sudden silence while a brawny giant, a blacksmith no doubt, stepped from under the archway of the door, a huge hammer over his shoulder, showing that it was he who had been delivering those smashing blows on the door.
"People of Portugal," Tom called out loudly, "I have come again to speak to you. You fight with friends, not with enemies."
The howl that followed would have scared even a veteran.
"Friends! You say friends!" shouted the blacksmith, stepping still farther out from the arch, while a couple of torches near him illuminated his person. "Who are you that you should try to fool us? We know our business well enough. For days we have watched this troop of horse, and for days we have vowed to kill every man of them, to kill them slowlyif we may. Who are you, speaking our tongue, who dare to say that you are friends?"
Shouts of applause greeted the words. An excited individual near the speaker levelled a pistol and fired point-blank at Tom, narrowly missing his head. Then once more there was silence. The crowd, in fact, seemed to have realized their own power now, and knew well that the church was surrounded. Eager though they were to slaughter the troopers, they did not grudge a few moments' delay.
"Who are you?" they shouted hoarsely.
"I am English," answered Tom at once, "and so are four others amongst us. We were being carried as prisoners."
"A lie!" came fiercely from someone in the crowd. "If he and the four beside were prisoners, why then were they armed? Why did they fight us at the entrance to the village?"
The argument was greeted with roars of applause again, which silenced all Tom's efforts. Then the blacksmith held his hammer aloft to command silence, and, having obtained it, seized a torch and held it high up toward our hero.
"Listen, friends and brothers," he called in hoarse tones. "There is one above who speaks our tongue and tells us that he and four others are English and therefore friends. Good! Let us say that this is no lie. There are four, while we are four hundred. Let these four, with the one who speaks to us, come out from the church. If their tale is true they shalllive and we will feed and house them. If they lie——"
The sentence was broken by discordant shouts of glee at the blacksmith's wit, shouts that boded ill for anyone foolhardy enough to place himself in the hands of such people, so roused by events, and mad for slaughter, that they were incapable of recognizing friend from foe.
"Let the five come out to us," shouted the blacksmith, "leaving the others to be dealt with as we will."
Tom waited for the noise which followed to die down, and then bent over the crowd. "What you ask is impossible," he said firmly. "I and my English friends will not desert the troopers. But we are ready to hand ourselves over to a body of English troops when you bring them to us. To you we will not trust ourselves, and I warn you that efforts on your part will lead to the death of many. Now, be wise; reflect on the consequences and leave us alone."
Had he wished to stir the rage of the peasants Tom could not have done it more effectually. Screams of rage filled the air, while a torrent of bullets sped toward him. He stepped back from the ledge, clambered down the stairs, and seized a carbine and ammunition.
"My friends," he said in French, "those wolves outside ask for our lives. We will sell them dearly. Let each man fire the moment the attack begins,remembering to make each shot tell, for ammunition is very scarce. Ah, is that you, Andrews?"
"Yes, sir," came the answer, while the rifleman drew himself up stiffly in front of our hero, a lighted torch still in one hand. "There are pews, which we might break up," he reported; "but they're light, too light to be of use in a doorway. But one of the horses is dead, sir. If we were to pull him along here he'd make an obstacle they'd have difficulty in moving."
"A horse!" the novel idea startled Tom. And then, on consideration, it appeared that nothing could be better. At once he sent Andrews off with four of the men to drag the animal towards the door, while he himself took the candle, and, striding over to the pews that filled the floor of the church, closely inspected them. A scheme for saving ammunition was growing in his brain; for it was clear that if the enemy persisted in an attack the wherewithal to load the muskets would soon be expended.
"The doors will be broken down in no time," he told himself; "then we shall be separated from the peasants merely by the barrier we happen to place in position—a horse on this occasion. What we want is something long with which to keep them at a distance."
Calling two of the troopers, he urged them to break up half a dozen of pews as swiftly as possible, keeping the long timbers intact.
"Use your sabres," he said, "and when you havethe timbers separated, point them at one end. I want a couple of dozen spears with which to fend off these peasants. Ah, there goes the hammer again!"
A terrific blow resounded upon the door, which was followed almost immediately by a sharp report from the ledge above, and then by a howl. The blacksmith had not lived to see the triumph that he had anticipated. One of the French troopers had leaned over and shot him with his carbine. But the shot made little difference. A dozen infuriated peasants sprang forward to seize the hammer, while shots came from all directions. Then, amidst the sounds, steps were heard on the narrow staircase leading from the ledge.
"Monsieur," said the man, running up to Tom, "there are men bringing masses of straw to pile against the door. My comrades have discovered a gallery leading from the ledge, with steps at the far end. There is a large room also, and much building material there. It seems that at one time the church was larger. Will monsieur sanction the tossing of stones on the heads of the enemy?"
Tom nodded promptly, his features lighting up. By the aid of the flickering torch the trooper was able to see that the young fellow who had so suddenly taken command of the party was actually smiling.
"Ma foi!" he exclaimedsotto voce, "but the Englishman cares nothing for this trouble! He is the one to lead."
"I will come up as soon as I am able," said Tom."Meanwhile, do as best you can. Toss anything on their heads, but, above all, save ammunition."
The man was gone in a moment, while blows again sounded on the door, one more violent than any which had preceded it shattering the upper hinges. The shouts of triumph which burst from the peasants were followed by a couple or more dull thuds, as if heavy bodies had been dropped on the heads of the attackers, and then by a chorus of shrieks denoting hatred and execration. Meanwhile a stir in the church told of men struggling at some task, and presently Andrews appeared with his helpers, and behind them the carcass of a horse.
"He fell dead in a hollow leading to a doorway," explained Andrews in short gasps, "and to bring him here we had to drag him up a couple of high steps. Once on the main floor of the church the carcass slid easily enough; but earlier—my word it was hard work! There! the carcass fills the lower part of the doorway, and as the legs are in this direction those brutes will have nothing to take a grip of. What orders, sir?"
"Pull the pews out of their places and pile them one on another round the doorway," answered Tom, who had been sketching out his plans in the meanwhile. "You and Howeley and two of the troopers will take post on them a little to one side, and will fire into the crowd once the doors give way. The other men will be below you, and I am supplying them with spears made from the timbers of some ofthe pews. You and they together should be able to keep the enemy off."
It may be imagined that each man amongst the defenders appointed to some task had laboured at it with all haste, and by now the men Tom had instructed to break up pews had almost finished their work. Indeed, within a few minutes, and just before the doors were burst in and fell over the carcass of the horse with a clatter, they had produced more than a dozen long pieces of strong timber, each one roughly hacked to a point at one end; and being some fifteen feet in length these improvised spears promised to be of great service. In a few seconds, in fact, they were put to a useful if somewhat unkind purpose; for the fall of the doors was the signal for a mad rush on the part of the peasants. The three or four hundred or more outside, howling about the entrance to the church, launched themselves promptly at the black void, where but a few moments before the flames from the torches had shown doors. A hundred struggled to lead the attackers where there was room only for half a dozen, and as a result they came surging on in a compact mass, which threatened to push the carcass of the horse aside as if it were a mere nothing. Then wiser counsels prevailed. Elbow room was given to those in advance, and soon shots were whistling through the doorway, while men armed with sabres, with pitchforks, with scythes and every class of weapon dashed up the steps and hurled themselves at the opening. Thud! thud!the stones came from the ledge above, striking the peasants down. The muskets wielded by Andrews and his comrades swept away the more dangerous of the enemy—those provided with firearms—while the troopers handling the long spears fashioned from pew timbers made effective use of their weird weapons. They thrust them at the enemy, giving terrible wounds. They beat them over the head till many dropped, and then advancing a pace or two, so that their weapons projected through the doorway over the carcass of the horse, they drove the peasants away from the entrance altogether.
THE PEASANTS BREAK IN THE CHURCH DOORS
THE PEASANTS BREAK IN THE CHURCH DOORS
"Stop firing!" shouted Tom, seeing that the peasants were retreating.
"We have taught them a sharp lesson, and that is enough for the moment. We don't want to rouse their anger further, and will try to show them that all we want is to be left alone, but that if they attack us we are fully able to give hard knocks in return. Anyone hurt?"
He repeated the words in French, and was relieved to hear that not one of the men had received so much as a scratch.
"Then we are well out of the first attack. Now we'll eat," he said. "We shall have to go on short rations without a doubt, and since that can't be helped we must make the most of it."
Leaving a man still in the belfry, and one of the troopers on the ledge, he posted two others at the rear of the church. Then he and Andrews, with the helpof two of the troopers, collected all the rations contained in the saddle bags, divided them into four portions, and finally issued a share of one portion to each one of the defenders. Thereafter they sat in the darkness eating the food, while, there being no news of the enemy, who seemed to have retired to the village, some of the men went to sleep, while others lit pipes and smoked contentedly. Tom sat down beside Mr. Riley and Jack, and devoured his own meal with an avidity which showed that excitement rather increased his appetite than the reverse.
"Splendidly managed, lad!" declared Mr. Riley, when he had finished the meal. "Not the eating of your rations, but the defence. Dear, dear, what a loss to the service!"
"Which service, sir?" asked Jack swiftly, for though wounded, and more or less incapable, the old spirit was still there. There was, in fact, a cheeky grin of enquiry on his somewhat pallid features, a pallor made even more evident by the flickering flame of a torch burning near the trio.
"Eh?" asked Mr. Riley, taken aback. "Which service?Theservice, I said."
"Army?" grinned Jack exasperatingly.
"I'll hammer you, my lad, when once you're fit," laughed the naval officer. "As if anyone could misunderstand me! I say thattheservice has lost a budding Nelson—a Nelson, Jack; as good a man as ever trod a deck. Tom's a loss to the service, now isn't he?"
"Army; yes, sir," grinned Jack, rolling his eyes at the naval officer.
"Joking apart, though," said Mr. Riley, ignoring the fun of the ensign, "Tom'll be a loss in an office. Just imagine our friend perched on a high stool battling with facts and figures, when he's shown he's capable of battling with people. Tom, I call it a downright sin. If you were my brother I'd say 'Go hang' to the office."
"Hear, hear!" cried Jack. "If Tom'd just give it up for a time and come along with us, why, I'd——"
"You?" interrupted Mr. Riley, with a smile of incredulity; for though Jack was undoubtedly dashing and gallant enough, he lacked the stamina and serious thought of one who leads.
"I," repeated the incorrigible ensign, "I—with a capital to it, please—I'd make the dear boy a general before he knew what was happening."
There was a roar of laughter at that, a roar which brought the troopers to a sitting posture, their fingers on their carbines. And then a smile was exchanged amongst them.
"Parbleu!but these English are proper fellows," said one to his comrade. "They come to us as prisoners, and we see at once that they are good comrades. They fall into the same trap with us too, and, having received arms, act as if they were French and not English. Now, one of them having saved the lives of all here, and having brought us to a nest which may be described as that of a hornet, theylaugh and joke and make merry.Ma foi!but these English are too good to fight with. It is the rascals of Spaniards we should engage with."
"Hear 'em!" grunted the rifleman Howeley, stretched near his comrade Andrews. "That 'ere Mr. Jack's a givin' lip to the naval orficer. Ten ter one he's sayin' as how the British army's better nor the navy. Equal, I says, all the time, though the army's my choice. Mate, who's this Mr. Clifford? What's his corps? He's a smart 'un."
His mouth went agape when the worthy Andrews informed him that Tom was merely a civilian, a class upon which Howeley had, in his own particular lordly way, been rather apt to look down.
"Civilian!" he gasped. "Strike me! But——"
"He's led us grandly. He's dropped into the post of commander as if he had been trained for it, as if it were his by right. I know all that," declared Andrews. "Tell you, my lad, he'd make a proper soldier."
Meanwhile Tom had faced the naval lieutenant eagerly.
"You think I'd do as an officer, sir?" he asked.
"Indeed I do," came the answer. "A regular could not have done better than you have done. You'll be a loss——"
"To the army," burst in the irrepressible Jack, grinning widely.
"To either service," said Mr. Riley seriously.
"Then, sir, I shall ask to join the army," declared our hero. "I seem to have been meant for it. Thisis the second time that my efforts to reach an office have been foiled. I shall attempt to obtain a commission; then I'll see what can be done to help Jack to capture Boney and turn the French out of the Peninsula."
There was more laughter at that, laughter turned on the young ensign. A little later Mr. Riley dragged a paper from his pocket and slowly read a few lines to our hero.
"You'll be interested to hear what is happening," he said. "Bonaparte, otherwise known as Napoleon, sometimes also as the 'Little Corporal', or as the 'Little Corsican', Emperor of the French, now proposes to leave the Peninsula and march from Parisen routefor Russia, which kingdom he wishes to conquer and add to his realms. Napoleon is not, in fact, satisfied with the whole of France, Italy, and other kingdoms. He desires to place the whole of Europe under one king, that king to be himself; to have but one capital for all, and that Paris; one code of laws, one currency, one language perhaps. It is Russia that now attracts him. To-morrow—who knows?—it will be England."
"But——" flashed out Jack, indignant at the very suggestion.
"Quite so," admitted Mr. Riley, stopping him with a smile; "but, as Jack was about to announce, there is always the service."
"Eh?" asked the ensign, puzzled for the moment.
"Theservice stands in his way. Nelson defeatedhis navy in 1805, and thereby made invasion of England impossible.Theservice, please, Mr. Jack."
Jack was caught, and had the grace to admit it. "I grant you that Trafalgar was a tremendous victory, sir," he said. "But there's the army to be considered also."
"Right, lad," came the emphatic reply. "And well they have done too. See what wonders Wellington and his men have accomplished in the Peninsula."
"Tell us all about it, Mr. Riley," asked Tom. "I'm like hundreds of others. I know that Napoleon desires to conquer all within his reach, and is said to have designs on England. I know, too, that our troops have been in this Peninsula since 1808, fighting the battles of the Portuguese and Spanish, and with great success. But why should we not have left them to it? I suppose we're afraid that Boney will become altogether too strong unless we interfere. Isn't that it? I haven't followed the various engagements, of which there have been numbers."
"Then here's for a yarn," began the naval lieutenant. "Those peasants, poor fools, have left us alone for the time being, and as my wound is too painful to let me sleep, and this Jack seems to be eager for information, why, I'll tell you the tale, and mighty fine hearing it makes. To begin with, we hark back to the 'Little Corsican', the artillery officer—a commoner, you must understand—who,by dint of sheer force of character and military and diplomatic genius, became Emperor of the French after that awful Revolution. Let us understand the position thoroughly. You have on the throne of France a man born in a lowly station. There is no long list of kingly ancestors behind him. Louis Capet, late King of France, was beheaded. The kingdom had become a republic, where equality and fraternity were supposed to flourish, and where the people were still shivering after the awful ordeals through which they had passed, scarcely able to believe that the days of the guillotine had really gone—those terrible days when no man, or woman either, knew whether the next day or so would or would not see himself or herself sent to sudden doom.
"At this moment Napoleon Bonaparte, a distinguished soldier, appeared upon the scene, and we find him in the course of a little time Emperor of the French, rich, all-powerful, and extremely ambitious. That ambition which might, had he wished it, have turned towards the path of peace, has been resolutely bent towards conquest. As I have said, Napoleon seeks to subjugate Europe. He dreams of a world power, with Paris as the centre and hub of that huge empire, and himself ruler over millions of downtrodden people. Doubtless England would have shared the same fate as other nations, and would have been overrun by French troops and mercenaries, had it not been for our navy. That is the arm, my lads, which has kept us free of invasion, that stillsweeps the seas, and keeps French transports from venturing across to our tight little island."
"Then, if that is so," ventured Tom, "why not confine our efforts to the sea? At Trafalgar we beat the French and Spanish fleets combined. Why then should we now take the side of the Spaniards?"
"A fair question, and easily answered," smiled Mr. Riley. "Here is the plain, unvarnished explanation. You may say, putting sentiment and natural sympathy apart, that it is nothing to us that Napoleon has thrust his brother on the Spanish throne, displacing the rightful ruler; or if he subjugates Russia, putting a ruler of his own choice on the throne there also. You may argue that that is no affair of England's. But let us look at the certain results of such success on his part. He conquers a kingdom, and straightway has all the resources of that kingdom at his command. Its men are at his service, its fleets also; his armies and his navy are greatly increased in power thereby. Thus, first with one addition and then with another to this world power he seeks, Napoleon arrives at a point where he can destroy England in spite of her navy. There you find a reason for our actions, and for the presence of our troops here in the Peninsula. We fight to free the peoples here, thereby reducing Napoleon's power. We seize this opportunity because the peoples of the Peninsula will have none of Napoleon's ruling. The countries seethe with indignation, there are riots everywhere. Let us but drive him and his troops out of the Peninsula,and Napoleon himself meet with reverses elsewhere, and all the downtrodden peoples he has already conquered will turn upon him. There will be a great alliance against this despot, and in the course of time, in spite of his gigantic armies and their undoubtedly fine organization, we shall wrest his power from him, perhaps even his kingdom."
That was exactly what England was striving for in those days. It may almost be said that a parallel situation had arisen to that which beset the people of England in the days of Good Queen Bess. Then Spain was a world power; that is to say, she owned amongst other possessions those American colonies that brought her so much wealth. The Gulf of Mexico saw many of her ships; her vessels, of enormous tonnage when compared with those of England at that time, sailed from the coast of Mexico laden with jewels and gold and wealth wrung from the natives, those Astec people who displayed such gentleness of character, such civilized habits, alongside of a barbarous custom of human sacrifice to which the world has seen no equal, not even in the days of King Coffee in Ashantee. Wealth can buy power; it purchases ships, and if there be the men to man them, then a wealthy nation can endow itself with a fleet which may be the terror of its neighbours. That was the position between Spain and England in those days. That Armada was preparing. It aimed at the subjugation of England, and the story is well enough known how Drake and his admirals set forth in theirtiny ships, manned by men who may be said to have been born aboard them, and in spite of the size of the galleons of the Armada, in spite of paucity of numbers and shortness of ammunition, contrived to break up the huge fleet when almost within sight of our shores. That was nearly a parallel situation. Now, instead of Spain, France aimed at our invasion, its Emperor Napoleon being ambitious to add England to the other nations he was bringing beneath his sway. Who knows what might have happened had there been no sea to contend with and no fleet? But we may fairly surmise that this country would have given a good account of herself, for already her armies in Portugal and Spain had chastised the French. Whatever the result under such circumstances, there was that sea to contend with, and Nelson and his admirals had so carefully watched it, and had fought so strenuously, that the fleet of France had been annihilated at Trafalgar. Thus the fear of invasion was gone for the moment. We had the future to consider, and, thoughtful of our own security and of the danger which would surely arise again so soon as Napoleon had brought Europe beneath his sway, we sent our troops to the Peninsula, there to oppose the man whose restless ambition kept the west in a state of turmoil, whose decree held thousands and thousands of men under arms when they might have been engaged in some peaceful occupation, and whose constant succession of skirmishes and battles filled the hospitals of Europe, sent thousands of maimedwretches back to their homes, and crowded the cemeteries. That was the direct result of Napoleon's ambitious policy, of his aggression, and let those who hold him up as a hero think of the unhappy wretches who suffered pain, and whose cries of anguish are now forgotten. Let them remember the huge number of young men in the first blush of life who found a grave on the many battlefields of Europe.
But that was the position before Napoleon set his eyes on the Peninsula, determining to place his brother on the throne of Spain and so bring the entire nation under his power. It was this latter period which was of greatest interest to our hero, and he listened eagerly while Mr. Riley told of the landing of our troops in Portugal, of their hardships, and of the strenuous fighting they had experienced.
"Now for our troops and the Peninsula," said Mr. Riley, settling himself in a corner of the old church and fixing his eyes for a few moments on the flaming and smoking torch which illuminated that part. "Those peasants seem to have decided to leave us alone for to-night, so that we have the time between this and the morning to ourselves. I imagine, too, that we may be congratulated; since it is easier for a few to defend a given place when they have daylight to help them. Ah, the sentry moves!"
In the dim light cast by the torch they saw the trooper whom Tom had stationed at the open doors of the place slowly rise to his feet and peer out. A minute later they watched as he levelled his musket. Then he seemed to change his mind, for of a sudden he dropped the weapon softly to the ground and gripped his sabre. And there he remained, in a posture that showed preparedness, for all the world like a tiger ready to spring. Nor was it long before he suddenly awoke to action; for there came a sound from outside the door, and a dull murmur echoed from the distance. Creeping silently towardshim, Tom peered through the doorway over his shoulder, and for a time saw nothing. Then, in the distance, he thought he could distinguish a dark mass between himself and the village, while nearer at hand there were two figures.
"Going to try a surprise," he told himself. "They have sent two of their most daring spirits ahead, and will follow immediately."
Promptly he crept away to warn the men, who by now were asleep for the most part; and very quietly they mustered about the door, while those on guard at the various danger spots about the building retained their positions.
"Gather about the door and pick up your spears," he warned the men in a whisper. "Leave the two who are creeping on to the sentry and Andrews."
The stalwart rifleman had already taken his post beside the sentry, armed just as he was with a sabre, and there, like cats waiting to pounce, they crouched. Peering out again over the carcass of the horse, Tom saw two heads appear, and then three more immediately behind them. One of the peasants almost instantly leaped on to the carcass, and was joined there within a second by a comrade. There was a loud shout from one, as if to signal to the mass behind, and then he and his fellow leaped into the church, while others appeared just behind the carcass of the horse.
"On them!" shouted the gallant Andrews. "Cut them down! Back with them!"
He threw himself at the attackers, and the trooper with him. For a minute perhaps there was a fierce scuffle, and then the two retired, as their work was accomplished. Both the daring spirits who had invaded the church had paid the penalty of their rashness and lay dead upon the floor. But the others were by no means disheartened. It appeared that a dozen or more had crept forward, and with loud shouts they now rushed at the opening.
"Keep them off with the spears. Don't fire unless you are compelled," Tom ordered loudly. "We've shown them that we are ready for them, and the less fuss we make about the matter the more they will fear us in the future. Ah, here they come!"
By now a surging crowd had arrived outside the church, and once more the scene of a little time before was repeated. Muskets and ancient firearms were discharged from every point, and in the most haphazard fashion. Indeed it may be said that in this respect the attackers were as dangerous to one another as to the defenders of the church. A hundred frenzied creatures hurled themselves into the doorway, and for a while it looked as if they would sweep all before them. But those deadly spears, harmless though they looked on a casual inspection, did the work expected of them. Men were tossed back with jagged wounds in the chest. Others were felled with blows over the head, while in many instances the attackers were pushed away by sheer strength. Then, at a signal from Tom,four of the defenders joined Andrews and the sentry, each armed with sabres, and fell furiously upon the mob. Shrieks filled the air; the maddened peasants dropped their weapons and endeavoured to grapple with the soldiers. They bit at the men and fought like fiends. Then some turned, pressing away from the door, but only to be thrust forward again by the weight of those behind them. It was a startled cry from someone in the background which at length caused the mob to retire; a sudden panic seemed to seize them and in a little while they were racing pell mell from the building.
"Now go back to your corners and sleep," said Tom. "We have taught them another lesson, and next time they will not be quite so bold. Let us have a look at these fellows."
He took the torch and leaned over the two men who had been cut down by Andrews and the trooper. They were powerful fellows, armed with billhooks and had their boots thickly wrapped with straw so as to deaden the sound of their coming.
"Put them outside," he ordered, "and to-morrow, at the first streak of dawn, we will send out a party to remove the other bodies. We may be cooped up here for a week, and things would then become unpleasant. That reminds me; there's the question of food and water. Well, that must settle itself; we'll wait for morning."
There was nothing else to be done; therefore, having posted his sentries, and cautioned them to bevery watchful, Tom retired to the corner in which he had left Mr. Riley and Jack.
"A nice little skirmish, Tom," said the former. "By the time you join the army you'll have become a veteran. These little conflicts are all good practice, for if I am not mistaken the peasants will make tremendous efforts when the day comes. But sit down. I'm eager to tell my tale before another disturbance comes. Where was I? Oh, I remember! We were talking of the troops in the Peninsula. You understand that Napoleon's armies were massed at this time in both Portugal and Spain. Well, Wellington—then Sir Arthur Wellesley—sailed from Cork in July, 1808, with some ten thousand men, and landed near Oporto. An experienced general such as he was, one, too, fresh from conquests in India, was not likely to let the grass grow beneath his feet, and almost at once he had a nice little skirmish with the French at Brilos and at Rolica, causing Laborde, their commander, to withdraw.
"He would have pushed on at once without a doubt, but information now reached him that General Anstruther had landed at Peniche, and, it being important to join hands with him, he left Laborde for the moment and marched to meet the new arrivals. Almost at once General Sir Harry Burrard appeared upon the scene, with orders from the Home authorities to take the chief command; for these authorities were for ever changing their minds. You observe that they send Wellesley to the Peninsula, a general with a greatand recent reputation, and replace him within a few days by a second general, who, however skilled, had certainly not the experience of the brilliant officer first selected. At this time the British force was encamped at Vimeiro, and a fierce engagement followed, forced upon our troops by the French, and arising at that point where Wellesley's own particular command was located. He beat the French handsomely, after a fierce engagement in which both sides fought most gallantly, and having done so, and received the congratulations of Sir Harry Burrard, Wellesley promptly found himself the third in command instead of the second; for Sir Hugh Dalrymple now arrived to take command of the invading force, thus displaying a further change of policy on the part of the vacillating Ministry then in charge of our affairs.
"And now we must switch off from the forces engaged in and about Oporto," said Mr. Riley, hitching himself a little higher in his corner and crossing his legs for greater comfort. "We come to the doings of Sir John Moore, a commander who won the esteem of Napoleon himself, and whose memory will be ever honoured amongst the French. And just let me digress for a moment. It is perhaps a most suitable opportunity, too, for bringing the matter forward, seeing that we are here prisoners in a sense of the French, and yet, if I make no mistake, in command of them."
He smiled quizzingly at Tom, and laughed aloud when the latter coloured.
"I—I couldn't well help it, sir," stuttered our hero, as if ashamed of his action. "You see, there we were in a hole, and——"
Mr. Riley's laughter cut short the speech.
"I was only poking fun, lad," he smiled. "We all bless you for your gallant intervention. But let me mention this matter. It is an opportune moment, I say. I was speaking of Sir John Moore, and the honour the French had for him. Look at the position throughout. Lads, we are fighting gentlemen, that is the consensus of opinion amongst officers and in the ranks. The French have fought us right gallantly. They at least are open enemies, but the Spaniards, for whose help we are here, disgust us. There are times, I hear, when our troops wish matters were different, and the Spaniards the real enemies, and sometimes the Portuguese also, for they pretend friendship, while everywhere there are traitors, everywhere men in authority amongst them—nobles and others who form the Juntas or Parliaments which govern the countries now—who oppose the men who have come to free their countries in every possible way, who are mean and contemptible in their dealings with them, whose policy changes from day to day and who appear at times to act as if they wished the French to remain victorious. There! I have had my growl. Napoleon is a great man, no doubt, with dangerous ambitions, dangerous, that is to say, to the nations surrounding France. The French officers and men, I repeat, aregentlemen, with whom it is an honour to cross swords. Now let me get to the subject of Sir John Moore and his unlucky army of penetration."
"And the retreat, which has become famous," said Jack, becoming serious for a moment.
"Quite so, and very rightly too; for the retreat which followed the forward march of Sir John Moore's army was conducted in a manner that has won the praise of all. He marched for Madrid on 18 October, with some 30,000 infantry and 5000 cavalry, all wearing the red cockade of Spain in their caps. And perhaps it will be well to tell you at this point that the efforts of our troops elsewhere in the command of Wellesley, or of the other generals whom the changing policy of our British Ministers had sent to conduct affairs, had resulted in an agreement with the French, whereby Portugal was evacuated by their forces and all strong places in that country given up to our men.
"Having mentioned that, I can now explain that Sir John Moore's army was to carry the war into Spain, and marching in the direction of Madrid to combine with the Spaniards and attempt to oust the invading armies of Napoleon. On 13 November we hear of him at Salamanca; and now we have an illustration of the weak and vacillating action of the Spanish Junta, combined with as equally blameworthy action on the part of Mr. Frere, our ambassador in Spain. Where the greatest pains should have been taken to supply Sir John Moore with accurate informationconcerning the movements of the enemy, the utmost carelessness seems to have been the order of the day. As a result, Sir John was in the dangerous dilemma of not knowing whether the circumstances warranted his pushing on towards Madrid, or whether he ought at once to begin a retreat towards the coast or into Portugal. It was not, in fact, till an evening in December, when already the winter was upon him, that he had certain information that Napoleon himself was massing all his troops, and that in cavalry alone he outnumbered the British by 12,000. Such information set our troops retreating rapidly by way of the Galician mountains, and hot in pursuit marched 255,000 men, with 50,000 horses, while a force of 32,000 kept in rear and held the lines of communication.
"To describe the many incidents of that memorable march would require a length of time, and since we ought already to be asleep, preparing ourselves for trouble to-morrow, I will merely sketch the events which followed. For 250 miles our troops were harassed by the enemy's cavalry, and daily there were severe skirmishes between our rearguard and the French. Recollect that it was winter, and that the line of retreat passed amongst the mountains, where our columns trudged through valleys and over passes covered deep in snow. It is not difficult to realize the terrible work this entailed, how the cold and exposure and constant need for exertion told on men and beasts. One can readily perceive that baggageanimals broke down under the strain, and that presently the army found itself compelled to carry its own provisions. Add to the difficulties of the cold and snow and the mountainous route the fact that a horde of non-combatants accompanied the army, servants, grooms, wives and children of the soldiers, and one sees the possibilities of added difficulty and misery. Soon men and women began to fall by the way, as had the horses and mules. They lagged behind, wearied and utterly careless in their misery of the consequences. Frozen and starved they lay down by the way, and soon the snow hid them. And always a cloud of French horsemen followed, seeking every opportunity to charge, and dashing in amongst the stragglers and helpless. No wonder that the army dwindled. No wonder that its numbers fell away till but a portion remained. But still the retreat proceeded, and ever the gallant rearguard held the French at bay.
"On the last day of 1808 Moore quitted Astorga in Léon. On the very next, the first day of 1809, Napoleon entered the same place with 80,000 men, his advance guard of relentless cavalry being still in touch with our men. There the great Bonaparte remained, leaving the final work to the Duke of Dalmatia, and conceiving it certain that the whole British army would be exterminated. Well they might have been too, for here we have an example of what I have mentioned. Along the line of retreat, when the Spanish authorities could have, and should have,made full preparations to supply our troops and followers with rations and all that they required, they did nothing to help. Even food was not forthcoming, so that our desperate and hungry men were forced to pillage the inhabitants.
"It is a sad tale, lads," said Mr. Riley after a pause, "but a gallant tale also, for Sir John and his fine fellows at length reached Corunna, with but 14,000 all told, but with their cannon, their colours, and their trophies intact. In fact they came to the coast covered with honour and renown, but starved and frost-bitten, and minus many and many a comrade. And there more fighting was necessary, for our fleet was not in sight. The battle of Corunna which followed ended in victory for us, but cost the lives of many gallant fellows, and of that of Sir John Moore amongst them. Then our troops embarked, the fleet having arrived meanwhile, and as they sailed away, there, above the citadel where Sir John and many a gallant comrade was buried, flew the flag of France, not at the summit of the post, but half-masted, in respect for one who had proved an able and a courageous leader. That, my lads, was another proof of the feelings of the enemy for us. If fight we must, Frenchmen at least have that generosity of feeling which allows them to pay honour to a brave enemy."
The naval lieutenant sat back once more in his corner, his eyes fixed upon the flaming torch. Tom looked over at the sentry, standing alert and without a movement just behind the carcass of the horse.And straightway he wondered whether he would live to take part in such a retreat as that of Sir John Moore, and whether, should he be involved in such an affair, he would conduct himself as became a British officer. Then Mr. Riley's voice once more broke the silence.
"We have heard of the opening events of this Peninsula War," he said. "Napoleon's invasion of Spain, and his placing of his brother Joseph on the throne without the wish or consent of the people, had resulted in some passages of arms between the French and English which must have opened the eyes of Bonaparte. But it did not deter him. Following the embarkation of Sir John Moore's army, he ordered the invasion of Portugal again, and in a little while Soult, a famous French marshal, held that country right down to the River Douro.
"Once more I will sketch the events which followed. Wellesley, again in chief command, marched against the enemy, forced the passage of the Douro, in itself a most brilliant undertaking, and drove the French back into Spain. Following Marshal Soult, Wellesley crossed the frontier in June, 1809, with but 20,000 British troops, though he had some 57,000 Spanish and Portuguese soldiers to aid him, the great majority being merely irregulars. These latter were under various commanders, of whom I can call to memory at the moment Cuesta, the Spanish commander-in-chief, a useless person; Romana, Blake, and Beresford.
"At this moment the French were disposed as follows: Victor, with some 20,000 men, was on the Tagus. Sebastiani was in La Mancha with a force not quite so strong. Thousands were collected about Madrid, in Galicia, Léon, and Old Castille also, while there was a division of cavalry and 40,000 infantry stationed in Aragon and Catalonia. Their very numbers give you an idea of the almost impossible task imposed upon our forces. Wellesley, in fact, having entered Spain and approached Talavera, found himself opposed to Marshal Victor, who had King Joseph in rear, with Marshal Sebastiani's corps to aid him.
"We now arrive at the first battle of importance in the Peninsula campaign. Talavera is a name which will be borne upon the colours of many a regiment with lasting honour, for the fight was a fierce and desperate one, and our victory was won only after great losses. The battle itself was preceded by two engagements at least of some importance, in one of which 10,000 Spanish troops distinguished themselves by fleeing before they had come to grips with the enemy.
"Following Talavera, the smallness of our numbers and the utter failure of the Spanish Junta to help with supplies and material caused Sir Arthur Wellesley to retire over the Tagus into Portugal once more, where he went into winter quarters. But the movement had the consequences one would have anticipated. The French determined upon anotherinvasion of Portugal, when they hoped to drive the British from the country, and in 1810 they came in three columns, under the supreme command of Marshal Massena, with Junot, Ney, and Regnier as column commanders. Lord Wellington—for he had now been granted that title as a reward for his conspicuous services—retired in good order to the heights of Busaco, where a terrific conflict followed, the British troops successfully resisting the onslaught of the French columns. Then, finding his flank turned, Wellington retired to the lines of Torres Vedras, lines which he had been secretly fortifying, where he might, should the French come down upon him in overwhelming numbers, mass his men and still hold on to a portion of Portugal. There, in fact, he remained defying the enemy and covering Lisbon effectually.
"Thus ended the year 1810, an eventful year in the history of this Peninsula War, for it saw at its termination a thin line of British red opposed to masses of French troops who now held, not Spain alone, but even Portugal, right down to the heights of Torres Vedras, behind which Wellington and his men remained defiant, clinging to that promontory on which is situated Lisbon. In fact they were clinging tenaciously to the country, their fortunes seemingly rather worse than they had been, though a huge advantage had been gained, inasmuch as Napoleon and his hosts had learned that a few British troops skilfully handled were easily a match for them. Norwas it likely that we would give up the conflict. The year 1811, the year in which we now are, began brilliantly. You may say that you are in the midst of renewed exertions on the part of that brilliant general who leads us; while before us there is an immense work to be done. Lads, we have to regain Portugal before we think of ousting the French from Spain, which will be a gigantic undertaking, with fighting in abundance."
Jack and Tom pricked up their ears at the news. Indeed we may say that the former had till now been filled with that vague fear which comes to the heart of many and many a soldier who is sent to join his regiment at war. He wonders whether his own arrival will coincide with the defeat of the enemy, whether he will arrive too late to take part in the stirring events to which he had looked forward.
"Then there'll be a chance," blurted out Jack, sitting up, and giving a sharp cry of pain, for in his eagerness he had forgotten his wound.
"For you to teach Tom, and help him to become a general! Yes," laughed the naval officer, "heaps!"
"And you think, sir, that I shall be able to get a commission?" asked our hero, with some amount of misgiving.
"I believe that if you manage to bring us out of this hole, and still evade a French prison, you will be offered one promptly," came the gratifying reply. "But let me complete my task. We enter upon this year of grace 1811. Let us look towards Badajoz,on the River Guadiana, south of the Tagus. Soult advanced in this direction to open up communications with Massena, who was massed with his regiments on the Tagus. Wellington also advanced, and, leaving the strong, fortified lines of Torres Vedras, crossed the Guadiana, leaving Beresford with some 7000 British troops, and a large number of Portuguese, to invest Badajoz. Crossing the Tagus, Wellington now marched north towards Ciudad Rodrigo, whence Massena had taken his troops, and established himself between the Rivers Agueda and Coa, and within striking distance of Almeida, where was a force of the enemy. Massena advanced against him, and our troops at once took position on the heights of Fuentes d'Onoro, where a terrific battle was fought, resulting in a victory for us. The French abandoned Almeida, while Massena was recalled.
"Now we turn south again to Badajoz, for the French had retired to Salamanca, that is, the troops lately engaged with Wellington. Soult had been reinforced, and was well on his way to relieve the place invested by Beresford, and, as a consequence, the latter was forced to raise the siege, and though he could have retired he preferred to choose a ground for fighting and give battle. He took post at Albuera, knowing that Wellington was hastening to his help, his troops consisting of those 7000 British, and of Spaniards and Portuguese, the former commanded by Blake, whose arrogance and jealousyhindered the commander not a little. It disgusts one to have to record that many of these allies proved worse than useless when in face of the enemy, and that but for the sturdy backbone of British the battle would have been lost. It was, I am told, a most confused affair, made glorious by the tenacity and bull-dog courage of our men in face of terrible odds, and with the knowledge that those who should have aided them, and been in the forefront, were often skulking in the rear. The losses on both sides were huge, but the battle ended in Soult retiring, while Beresford gathered together his almost shattered forces as best he could, Blake, who should have helped, even refusing him bearers for his wounded. Thereafter the siege of Badajoz was once more entered upon, while one must mention a brilliant little land cutting-out expedition, where, at Arroyo de Molinos, General Roland Hill broke up a force of the enemy under Girard, capturing men, guns, and baggage.
"Barossa, too, is worthy of more than passing mention, for the battle was hardly fought by our men. You must understand that troops had been dispatched to Cadiz, where the Spaniards grudgingly gave them entry, and these sailed later on for Algeciras, where they effected a landing. Then, with some 12,000 Spaniards, under La Pena, 4000 of our men marched against Marshal Victor's forces. Here again we have the same tale of Spanish treachery, jealousy, and cowardice. That movement ended in the British troops being left almost entirely aloneto withstand the onslaught of the French legions. Yet, in spite of that, Barossa, where our troops were, saw Victor's ranks shattered, and added one more to the many victories gained by our gallant fellows in the Peninsula.
"And now I come to the end of my tale. Owing to the junction of the enemy under Soult, and those divisions in the north, Wellington abandoned the siege of Badajoz, and advanced to the Tagus. Thence he crossed in the direction of Ciudad Rodrigo, and once more took up a position between the Coa and the Agueda, discovering the countryside utterly swept by the French. The latest dispatches from the Peninsula have told of burned villages, of ruined homesteads, of starving and infuriated peasants. Detached parties of horse have ridden through the country, sweeping it clean as the French retired, and no doubt these fine fellows with whom we occupy this church have formed one of those parties. Bear in mind that they have merely obeyed orders. Because their countrymen have dealt severely with the Portuguese they may not have done so; and, in any case, recollect that war is a cruel game, and brings greater misery, perhaps, on non-combatants than upon those whose profession it is to fight. There! Out with the torch. Let's go to sleep. Who knows? to-morrow will make a second Wellington of our friend Tom, or will see us—er——"
Jack put on a nervous grin. Tom's handsome face assumed a stern expression. He felt that it was notthe time for joking, and, what was more, he felt that failure here would be a disgrace after the many brilliant battles of which Mr. Riley had been telling.
"We'll pull out in the end, sir," he said with assurance. "What we've done already shall be done again. To-morrow—or is it to-day, for it is past midnight?—shall see these Portuguese fellows scuttling."
The day, when it came, might bring about such a happy result. But then it might not. On the face of it, matters were desperate, for here were a mere handful opposed to crowds—crowds, too, incensed and filled with a dull and defiant hatred, which made success on their part a certain death warrant for the defenders of the village church.