RONDA is situated among high mountains, which must be crossed in going to Gibraltar, and are generally known by the name of the Serrania de Ronda. Their summits are destitute of vegetation, and their sides are covered with a brittle rock, whose surface, one would think, the sun's heat for ages had blackened and calcined. It is only at the bottom of valleys, and on the borders of streams, that meadows and orchards are beheld. Nearer the sea, the vines creep along the ground almost without culture. From thence come the Spanish wines held in greatest repute.
Constantly obliged to struggle under the privations of uncivilized life, the people who live in these barren mountains are sober, persevering, and unconquerable. Religion is the only tie which binds them, and almost the only curb by which they can be restrained. The late Spanish government could never subject them to a strict observance of the laws in time of peace, nor oblige them to serve in the armies during war. They uniformly ran off, when marched to any distance from their habitations.
Each village chooses its alcaids for a term of two years. These magistrates, however, seldom dare to exersise their authority, for fear of making themselves enemies, and of being exposed to an always implacable vengeance. If the kings judge had a mind to use force to quell a disturbance, in an instant every dagger would be turned against himself. But if a prayer be commenced, it is a wonder if the combatants do not lay aside their fury, to join in it with one accord. In their hottest quarrels, the arrival of the holy sacrament never fails to restore peace.
I was informed, that no feast of any consequence ever takes place in the Sierra, without the death of two or three individuals. Jealousy among these people is a phrenzy which blood alone can satiate. It seldom fails that the mortal stab follows the sidelong glance of passion.
These highlanders, to a man almost, are contraband traders. They sometimes unite in great numbers from different villages, under their most noted chiefs, and, descending into the plains, disperse themselves about the country to carry on their illegal traffic. Often they resist the troops despatched in pursuit of them. These smugglers have always been celebrated for their cunning, and for the dexterity with which they are trained to beguile the vigilance of hosts of customhouse officers. Ranging through the mountains day and night, they are familiar with the most retired caves, with all the passes, and with the most untrodden paths.
Whilst the men are thus constantly engaged in these contraband contests, the women remain in their mountainous villages, and fear not to engage in the most oppressive toils. They hear heavy loads with ease, and are proud of this superiority of strength, which they have by habit acquired. They have even been seen wrestling with each other, and contending who would lift the largest stones. When they go down to Ronda, they are known at once by their masculine size, their robust limbs, and their wondering, yet defying looks. They are fond of ornamenting themselves when they visit the city, with the veils and rich stuffs of their contraband traffic. Their dress makes a strange contrast with their coarse features and dark sun-burnt complexions.
The warlike inhabitants of these lofty mountains had all taken arms against the French. When King Joseph came to Ronda at the head of his guards, about three weeks before our arrival, he vainly endeavoured to make them submit to his authority, first by gentle means, and then by force.
King Joseph remained only a few days at Ronda. He had left a garrison in that city, consisting of 250 hussars of our regiment, and 300 soldiers of his own guard of infantry. He had given our Colonel, when he departed, the title of "Civil and Military Governor", with most unlimited power over the neighbouring provinces. The absolute authority attached to this pompous title, which was equal to that of captain-general, should have extended over a track of country fifteen or twenty leagues in circumference. But the smugglers of the Sierra, limited our sway to the walls of Ronda, and even there we could not sleep without anxiety, on account of our mistrust of the inhabitants of the suburbs.
The same night that I arrived, a number of fires were lighted successively on the mountains around. The deception occasioned by the darkness, made the flame of the most distant appear near, and it was observed by some one, that a burning circle surrounded us. The enemy had taken up their position before the city, with the intention of attacking us next day.
For half an hour we heard the sound of a goats horn repeated again and again, which seemed to proceed from a grove of olives, beyond the old town, in a little valley underneath. We were passing a thousand jokes about these unmodulated notes, without being able to conceive their meaning, when a hussar from one of the advanced posts came at the gallop to inform the Colonel, that a deputy from the enemy demanded to be admitted. The Colonel ordered him to be introduced, and the Brigadier brought him immediately, after covering his eyes. The deputy told us, that he had come to propose we should surrender ourselves. He said, that the General of the mountaineers, with 15,000 men, had occupied every pass by which we could escape; that he had taken a convoy of 50,000 cartridges, which were intended for us; and that he knew we could not defend the place for any length of time, because we had almost no ammunition. True it was, that the infantry of the garrison had but three rounds each. Our hussars could make no use of the sabre among the rocks, where their horses proved of no advantage, and tended rather to embarrass.
Our colonel replied to the deputy, that we would previously sit down to table. He gave me a sign to conduct our new corner to the messroom, recommending him to my attention. He was a young man of a pretty good appearance - He wore a round hat after the Andalusian fashion, and a short brown vest trimmed with sky-blue chain-lace. His only mark of distinction was a scarf in the manner of the country, with a few silver threads unwoven at the ends. In place of a sabre, he wore a long, straight, old-fashioned sword.
At first he was abashed to see himself, in his modest costume, among so many officers covered with embroidery. When we all at once put our hands to our sabres to unloose them before sitting down at table, he manifested some uneasiness, being ignorant of the cause of this unexpected movement. I believe he thought we were going to kill him, in retaliation for a murder committed by the people of a neighbouring village some days before, on a public functionary of Ronda, whom we had sent to them as our deputy.
I soon dispelled his fears, by inviting him to unarm himself, and to take a seat along with us. After some moments silence, I asked him if he bad been long in the service of Ferdinand VII.? He replied, that he had only entered a year ago, as a lieutenant in the Cantabrian hussars. We are doubly comrades, I replied, although enemies, by the rank we hold, and the war in which we serve. He was much flattered by being reckoned an officer of regular troops. I put several questions to him about the chiefs of the insurgent army. He vastly extolled the merits of General Gonzales, declaring him to be a man of uncommon talents in the art of war, and of a most profound knowledge in all military matters. We had never heard the name of that chief before; and it appeared afterwards that he was a sergeant of the line, whom the insurgents had dignified with the rank of Brigadier-general, that they might appear an organized force. By praising thus in exaggerated terms every thing which concerned his own party, we came to know without his telling us, that no corps of English had left Gibraltar to join the mountaineers; which, had it been the case, would have rendered our situation perilous in the extreme.
The Spanish officer did not at first depart from that sobriety which characterizes his countrymen. But when we drank his health, he returned the compliment, and, emulating our example, he now studied to keep up with us. We were only comrades at supper, but we were brothers at the dessert. We vowed an everlasting friendship; and, among other proofs of esteem, we promised to fight each other in single combat the very first time we should again meet.
After supper, the Colonel sent the Spanish deputy home without making any reply. I was directed to conduct him to the advanced posts of the enemy. I told him to tie up his eyes himself; and a hussar, at his right hand, led his horse. I was on his left, and we took the road together towards Gibraltar, by which he had come. On passing the main-guard, we were joined by the deputys trumpeter, and an old royal carabineer, who acted as his attendant. He was the only one the insurgent army could boast of; and was sent on this occasion, on account of a new uniform he wore, to do honour to their commissioner. I was astonished to hear him ask his officer, with a tone of authority, "Why have you made me wait so long?"
The trumpeter was a young shepherd, dressed in a green mantle, which formed a singular contrast with his sandals, his bonnet, and the rest of his rustic garments. He had got his lesson before he came away. When our hussars inquired what had become of his trumpet, he said he happened to lose it He had in fact purposely dropped the humble goats horn, which he had blown, fearing that the sight of that unwarlike instrument would destroy the illusion, which he hoped would be produced by his disguise. The shepherd could not get his horse to keep ahead of us. It stood, and kicked at every step. I called out to him in Spanish to " move on." He replied, most pitifully, "It is the first time ever I was on a horse, and they have given me a cursed jade that will not stir an inch." The carabineer, who followed a few yards behind us, went up to the poor fellow, ordered him rudely to be silent, and ended his perplexity, by taking his horse by the bridle.
When we reached the first Spanish post, after passing the suburbs of the ancient town, I bade the deputy adieu, and returned to my colonel to give an account of my commission. A council of war being held, we came to the resolution of abandoning the city, and going to Campillos, to wait there for ammunition. This town is about seven leagues distant from Ronda, and is situated in a plain at the foot of the mountains, where our cavalry would give us an advantage over the highlanders, whatever might be their numbers. We put very little trust in the 300 men of King Josephs guard, this corps being chiefly composed of Spanish deserters.
The Colonel ordered that the garrison should commense their march in half an hour, without a drum being beat or a trumpet blown, lest the enemy should be thereby advertised of our departure. I instantly summoned the quarter-masters who were under my command, and we went from house to house to call up the recruits I had brought. They had calculated on making a long stay at Ronda to recover from the fatigues of their journey. When we went at midnight to warn them of our departure, they were in a profound sleep, and, not hearing the trumpet sound as usual, they were unwilling to believe our words. Some even thought we were the ghosts of their lieutenant and corporals, come to torment them in their dreams with orders to march. We were obliged to give them some hearty strokes, to prove our identity.
For two hours we marched in a profound silence, by the brilliant light of the olive wood fires, which the mountaineers had lighted on the tops of the hills in our vicinity. At daybreak, we halted for a quarter of an hour, in a small plain, where we could have used our sabres, to see if the enemy would venture an engagement. But they fled every where at our approach, and regained the summits of their mountains, without wishing to engage. The peasants of the villages, on our march, fired at us from a distance. The women stationed themselves on the rocks above, to see us pass, and to rejoice at our retreat. They sung patriotic songs, in which they prayed for death to every Frenchman, to the Grand Duke de Berg, and to Napoleon. The burden of their verses was the imitation of a cock crowing, which is reckoned emblematical of France.
At length we reached Campillos, and saw perfectly well, by the manner of our reception, that the news of our losses at Olbera, and our retreat from Ronda had already reached this place. When I entered my lodging, I was very ungraciously welcomed by my landlord. My attendant having asked for a chamber to me, was shown into a dark, damp hole, which looked into a back yard. There having been no rations distributed when we arrived, the alcaid had issued an order, enjoining the inhabitants to entertain the soldiers who were billeted on them. The hussar who waited on me, made signs to the master of the house that he wanted some victuals. With a scornful air, I saw this person bring a small paltry table, on which there was a little bread and a few garlic cloves. I heard him say to his wife, "It is good enough for these French dogs; there is no need of being on ceremony with them now; they have been beaten, they are flying, and, please God and the Holy Mother, not one of them shall be in life two days hence." I pretended not to hear his execrations, that I might not let him know I understood his language.
I went out, and returned about an hour afterwards to my lodging, where I found a circle of five individuals sitting smoking cigars. They were in the habit of assembling every evening, as I understood, at the house of my host, who was a tobacconist. My hussar sat at some distance, and on my entrance he rose and presented me his chair. I accepted it, and drew nearer to the fire. The Spaniards at first were silent; but one of them, to prove whether or not I understood Spanish, inquired if I was not very much fatigued. Though I seemed not to comprehend his meaning, he added, with a sneer, "You have made good use of your spurs for two days past?" I made no answer; and they concluded that I did not know a word of their language, and resumed their conversation.
They extolled, with boundless enthusiasm, the brave mountaineers who had driven us out of Ronda. They related all the particulars of a most bloody battle that never happened, which lasted for twelve hours in the very streets of the city the evening before. They said our loss must have amounted to 600 men at least, and we had no more than 550 in all. They affirmed that the general of the mountaineers would attack us, in two days at farthest; that the inhabitants of the village would take up arms, and that they would annihilate these damned heretics, who were far worse than the Moors; "because," as they said, "these French neither believe in God, nor the Virgin, nor Saint Anthony, and not even in Saint James of Galicia. They do not even think it a crime to lodge in churches, and their horses with them." They repeated a thousand other such invectives, and excited their imaginations higher and higher. They concluded by saying, that "One Spaniard was a match for three Frenchmen;" and One of them added, that "he would kill half a dozen with his own hand."
I then rose and twice repeated the Spanish words poco a poco, which means "softly, softly." They seemed petrified to find that I had understood their whole conversation. I left them to tell my Colonel what I had just learned. he instantly commanded the alcaid to disarm the village. The inhabitants delivered up their useless arms, but, as is usual in such cases, they retained those that were of any service.
On returning to my quarters, I found not one of my politicians. They had all taken flight. My host also had concealed himself. In my absence, his alarmed spouse had endeavoured to propitiate my hussar. She had given him only water at first to quench his thirst, but now she brought him excellent wine. Having no idea that all this attention was the offspring of fear, and being much surprised at this unexpected kindness, he began to feel a certain impulse of vanity; and I found him, on my return, brushing up his horrible mustaches with more than ordinary complacency.
The moment I laid down my sabre, my hostess took it up, and carried it with great eagerness to the best apartment in the house, as if to take possession in my name. She then came trembling to entreat me not to cherish any resentment against her husband, telling me, that though he had not received me very politely at first, he was, however, an honest man, and had an excellent heart. I told her that her husband might return when he pleased, for I would not do him any injury if he would give me immediate notice of all that he could learn concerning the plans of the enemy or the inhabitants. I added, however, merely to frighten him, that if he failed to do it, I would have him hanged; and then I went to bed.
I rose at day-break next morning, and, on opening my chamber-door, found my landlord waiting to propitiate me. Before saying a word, he presented me with a cup of chocolate and biscuits; which I accepted with great civility, and told him, that in future I would regulate my conduct towards him according as he behaved. He replied with a low bow, that I might do with him and his as I pleased.
We learned to-day, the 15th of March, that the Serranos had entered Ronda about an hour after our evacuation of it, and that they were preparing to attack us at Campillos. On the 16th, our colonel sent a strong detachment of a hundred hussars and forty infantry to reconnoitre the enemy. I accompanied this expedition. We began our march at two hours before sunrise, and met the mountaineers about four leagues from Campillos. They had bivouacked all night on the side of a mountain, near the village of Caneta la Real. We halted about two gun-shots from them to examine their numbers and position. They were estimated to be about 4000. When our observations were finished, we took the road deliberately by which we had come.
The Serranos, seeing us preparing to return, believed that we were afraid of them. They uttered loud cries, descended the mountain in a body, and, without observing any order, followed us for an hour in a very rugged and irregular tract of country. The ground becoming favourable for cavalry, they checked their ardour, stopped to unite among the hills, and dared not at first advance into the plain. They then sent down some peasants to fire at the skirmishers of our rear- guard, who had wheeled about, whilst the infantry and main body of the troop were crossing a wooden bridge over a torrent, which runs at the foot of a barren mountain, on whose summit the village of Teba is perched like an eagles nest.
The women of the village, clothed, according to the fashion of the country, in red and light blue dresses, were sitting on their heels in great numbers, on the top of the rocks, to witness the engagement, which they expected would immediately ensue. Our rear-guard soon called in the sharp-shooters, and began to pass the bridge. Then the women rose with one consent, and sung a hymn to the Holy Virgin. At this signal the firing commenced; and the Spaniards, screened by the hill, poured down a shower of bullets all around us. We continued to pass the bridge under this discharge of musketry, without returning their fire. The women were observed to run down the rocks - to snatch the guns out of the hands of their husbands - and to place themselves in front, to oblige them to advance and pursue us beyond the bridge.
Our rear-guard, finding themselves rather closely pressed, faced the enemy; and the hussars of the first line opened a well-directed fire from their carabines against the foremost of their number. Two were killed; the crowd restrained their impetuosity, and the females made all haste to reach the top of the mountain. About a hundred, however, of the insurgents followed us at a distance, to within half a league of Campillos.
Next day a reconnoitring party of fifty hussars found the Serranos encamped on the farther side of the wooden bridge, below the village of Teba. They went close up to them, and again returned at the same pace, without firing a single shot. The mountaineers took courage, as they did the day before, and followed our scouts as far as our advanced posts. Our deem was to entice them into the plain before Campillos, and there to exercise our swords. The insurgents, being armed for the most part with fowling-pieces, had always an advantage among the mountains, where the rocks interrupted our pursuit of them. But in the plain they could not resist the charge of our cavalry, though much inferior in numbers, on account of their disorderly mode of fighting.
At 10 a.m., I saw my host enter in a great hurry. He had a smile on his lips; but he rubbed his eyes, and vainly attempted to shed tears. He told me that we were all gone men; that our guards had been routed; and that 1500 fierce highlanders were coming down to surround us in the plain, whilst the revolted townsmen attacked us in the streets of the village. He clasped me warmly in his arms as if he pitied my approaching fate.
In fact, I heard that very moment the report of muskets, tumultuous shouts, and the noise of the trumpets and drums. People from all quarters were hastening to take arms. One of our picquets, stationed at no distance from the house where I lodged, had just been forced to retire into the village. I soon mounted my horse and assembled my detachment. At the same instant the Colonel appeared, and ordered me to go to the aid of the guards who had been beaten. We made a sweeping charge in the plain--and it succeeded. Forty of our hussars cut to pieces one hundred mountaineers. Those who occupied the heights fled in the greatest consternation. We returned when all was over, and the plain which had before resounded with the shouts of a host of musketeers, lay silent and strewed with the vanquished foes that had just been laid low.
While we were thus engaged, the inhabitants of Campillos, thinking we would never return, put to death in their streets all those of our soldiers who had delayed going to the place of rendezvous, as they ought to have done, in case of an alarm. Our hussars, on returning to the village, put to the sword every person found under arms, and it was with difficulty they could be restrained from pillage. The mountaineers dared no more show themselves in the plains. They marched the rest of the day, and part of the night, till they regained the high mountains in the vicinity of Ronda.
General Peremont came from Malaga to join us at Campillos on the 19th of March with three battalions of infantry, one regiment of Polish lancers, and two pieces of cannon. We received the ammunition we were in want of; and at six oclock in the morning of the 20th, we all set off together to retake Ronda. We diverged a little from our route in passing Teba, to levy a contribution from its inhabitants, as a punishment for having taken arms three days before, notwithstanding they had made submissions to King Joseph.
Our Colonel left his regiment at the foot of the mountain, and ascended to its summit, on which the village is built, with only fifty hussars. The inhabitants, being aware of our approach, and of the fine we had come to exact, had fled among the rocks with their most precious effects. Various articles abandoned on the road, indicated the track of their precipitate flight. The Colonel gave orders to break open the doors of some of the houses in the market-place, to see if any persons were concealed therein. They found only one poor old man, who, far from being afraid of the soldiers, uttered cries of joy when they came to him. They wished to profit by this expression of regard, and to bring him from his hiding-place that they might get the information they wanted. But they soon observed that he was an idiot; and this was probably the cause which prevented his relations or friends from taking him along with them to their retreats.
We passed nearly two hours in the village, without finding a single individual that we could send to the towns people, in order to relieve their fears, to say that nothing would be done to them, and that their offence would be forgiven, if they paid a contribution to King Joseph. We did not wish to make them irreconcilable enemies, and to drive them to despair by a rigorous revenge; though it was incumbent on us not to suffer their revolt to pass unpunished.
We devised the following expedient to draw them from their fastnesses. The hussars burned some wet straw in the chimneys of some of the houses. These fires caused a dense smoke, which the wind blew among the mountains, and made the people believe their village was in flames. They hastened to send a deputation; and the alcaid soon appeared, followed by four of the wealthiest citizens. He was dressed in a scarlet mantle and laced cap. No doubt he had attired himself in all his tokens of dignity; because he thought, in going to the French, he was rendering up his life a sacrifice for the preservation of his native town. The alcaid promised that the contribution would be paid. We took him with us as a hostage, and he returned home in two days.
We halted for the night at a small village about four leagues distant from Campillos. We set out for Ronda on the 21st, at sunrise, and entered it without resistance. The mountaineers precipitately abandoned the town on our approach, throwing down their muskets and cloaks in the streets, that they might gain the mountains by the footpaths. The hussars of our vanguard cut down those who were last in their flight.
Part of the inhabitants of Ronda received us as deliverers. The highlanders bad erected a gibbet in the great square during our absence, in order to punish such of the citizens as had showed any favour to the French. If we had come a day later, many individuals would have been hanged. Thus private animosities would have been satisfied, under pretence of public vengeance. A magistrate was to have suffered, because he spurned a bribe in a smuggling affair some years before. A poor tailor, the night before we came, was thrown headlong from the rocks and dashed to pieces, because he had acted as an interpreter to our soldiers.
At daybreak of the same day we had left Ronda the mountaineers entered it, with loud shouts and the firing of guns, as a manifestation of their joy. All the inhabitants of each village marched together tumultuously. Their women followed them, who were only distinguished from the men, as already observed, by their clothing, their loftier stature, and a little more barbarity of manner.
They pretended that their husbands had reconquered Ronda from the French, and that every thing in the city was theirs. Stopping before splendid mansions, they would say in their vanity to each other - "I make choice of this house; I shall be the lady of this one, and will come in a few days to stay in it, with my children and my goats." In the mean time, they loaded their asses with whatever they could find within the rooms. These ladies did not desist from plundering, till their poor animals were on the point of sinking under the weight of their burdens.
An English lieutenant, who went with them on the expedition, had his horse and portmanteau stolen, and could by no means get the guilty persons punished. The prisons were forced; and the offenders imprisoned therein ran, the moment they were at liberty, to wreak their vengeance on their judges and accusers. Debtors extorted from their creditors discharges for their debts. They committed to the flames all the chancery documents, that they might cancel every deed of mortgage held by any citizen upon their highland properties.
The General-in-chief of the Serranos did not arrive at Ronda for six hours after we left it. He had endeavoured, first of all, to establish some kind of order in the town, with the assistance of what he called his regulars. Being unable to do so, he devised the following stratagem. He caused the public crier to announce that the French were returning. In the twinkling of an eye the mountaineers assembled, and the inhabitants had time to barricade their doors.
A person named Cura possessed the greatest influence over these undisciplined bands. He was a native of Valencia, where he had been a professor of mathematics. Having killed a man in a fit of jealousy, he took refuge among the illicit traders to escape from the pursuit of justice. He had secretly spread a report, that he was of noble birth, and that political reasons obliged him to remain unknown. The mountaineers called him "The stranger with the big bonnet," because he affected to wear the cap of the country of a prodigious size, in order to attract notice. That sort of mystery which hung about him, gave him a great empire over peoples minds. This stranger, of big bonnet notoriety, levied large contributions from several highland villages about a month after, under the pretext of going to purchase arms and ammunition. He endeavoured to run off with the money in-trusted to him, but was arrested and punished.
General Peremont had come to Ronda with his brigade, purposing to make an expedition into the heart of the high mountains; but he was under the necessity of returning to Malaga without making the attempt. He received intelligence that another body of insurgents had attacked that city in his absence. Ronda was again garrisoned by our hussars, and two hundred brave soldiers of Polish infantry, in place of the battalion of King Josephs guard we had with us before.
The lofty platform on which Ronda stands, is of gentle ascent on every side but the north. It is separated on the south and west, from the mountains which command it, by a lovely cultivated valley. The Guadiaro descends from the highest of these mountains, and divides the city. One might suppose, that the high rock on which it is built has been sundered by an earthquake, to form a deep crevice for the gloomy channel of this little river.
The old city, on the left bank, is connected with the new town opposite, by a superb stone bridge of a single arch. Iron balconies project beyond the parapet walls on either side. The passenger is struck with a feeling of terror, when he sees unexpectedly below him, through the slender iron railings, at the depth of almost three hundred feet, the foaming river, like a single white thread, which the impetuosity of the torrent has impelled for ages through the awful abyss. A damp kind of fog constantly rises from the bottom of the gulf. The eye can scarcely distinguish; on account of the depth, the men and asses with their loads, who are always going up and down the winding path, to some one of the mills constructed at the foot of the immense rocky terrace that supports the town.
In these times of war and trouble, we have sometimes witnessed, from the rocks above, the gardeners of the valley leave their peaceful labours, to join the mountaineers when they came rushing down to battle. From this spot also we have often observed them bury their fire-arms in the ground, on the advance of our troops.
That part of Ronda which is called the old town, is almost entirely of Moorish origin. Its streets are narrow and crooked. The new town, on the other hand, is well built; its squares are large, and its streets are wide and regular. By constructing some new works, and repairing an old castle, we easily put the old town into such a condition as to make it proof against a surprise; so that our infantry were quite able to defend it. Our hussars were specially charged with the defence of the new town. We demolished some old walls, and levelled some inequalities of the ground at the entrance of that part of the city; that, in case of danger, we might be able to repulse the enemy by charges of cavalry.
The mountaineers encamped on the summits of the neighbouring heights, and night and day observed all that passed in the city. When our trumpets sounded the reveillée, the shepherds horns were soon heard awakening our foes of the hills. They spent whole days annoying our picquets in one quarter or other, but took to flight the moment we went toward them, only to return again and give us new disquiet.
Whenever the Serranos were going to attack us, they commenced a loud shouting to animate them for the combat; and, long before their balls could reach us, they began to fire. The farthest off, hearing the cries and the shots, believed that their companions in front must have gained some superiority. Then they hurried on to take part in the action, that they might have their share of the honour of what they deemed an easy victory. With endless bravadoes, they passed those that once preceded them: and when they knew their error, it was impossible to retire. We suffered them to come as far as the small plain around the new town, that we might attack them with the sabre; and they always retired after some of their number had been slain.
The most agreeable exercise of the work-people about Ronda, was to station themselves behind the rocks among the olives, at the end of the suburbs, and to smoke their cigars, and shoot our videttes. They would leave the town in the morning with their implements of labour, as if they had been going to work in the fields. There, or at the farm-houses, they would find their guns, and in the evening they would again return unarmed, to sleep in the midst of us. It sometimes happened that our hussars recognised their landlords among their antagonists. It was impossible to make a scrutiny sufficiently strict. If Marshal Soults decree against the insurgent Spaniards had been executed, we would have been obliged to punish with death almost the whole population of the country. The French prisoners were hanged or burned alive by these mountaineers. The Spaniards, on the other hand, found with arms in their hands, very seldom met with quarter from our soldiers.
The women, the aged, and even the children, were all against us, and acted as spies to the enemy. I saw a young boy, eight years old, come one day to play himself among our horses feet, and undertake to act as our guide. He led a small party of our hussars into an ambuscade, and sheltered himself instantly among the rocks, tossing his cap into the air, and crying aloud, "Long live our King, Ferdinand VII.!" In a moment the firing commenced.
The mountaineers compensated, for their deficiency of skill in military discipline, by the insuperable energy and perseverance of their character. If they were unable to contend with us in the plains - if they failed in combined attacks - they fought most advantageously among the rocks, behind the walls of their houses, and in every situation where cavalry could not act. Montejaque, a little hamlet of fifty or sixty houses, about half a league distant from Ronda, could never be reduced to a perfect submission.
The inhabitants of every little town or village among the mountains who anticipated visits from the French, sent their old people, their wives and their children, to the inaccessible hills, and hid their most precious effects in caves. The men alone remained to defend the villages, or to make plundering excursions into the plains, to carry off the cattle of those of their own countrymen who would not declare themselves our foes.
The town of Grazalema was the arsenal of the Serranos. Marshal Soult marched against it with a strong flying column of three thousand men. The smugglers defended themselves from house to house, and did not abandon the place till their ammunition failed. They then escaped to the mountains, after they had made our soldiers sustain considerable loss. The city was again occupied by them, after the column had gone.
A division of three regiments of infantry, sent a month afterwards to disperse the insurgent army anew, easily drove them before them in the open country, but could not expel them from Grazalema. Some of the smugglers were intrenched in the square in the centre of the town, and had placed mattresses before the windows of the houses where they had taken refuge. Twelve hussars of the tenth regiment, and forty voltigeurs, who formed the avant-guard of the French division, arrived at that spot without meeting any resistance. But they never returned. They were every one struck down by a fire from the windows, discharged on them all at once. Those who were sent after them to take possession of that square, perished in the same way, without injuring one of their foes. The frequent expeditions we sent among the high mountains, almost always dispersed the enemy, without reducing them; but our troops returned to Ronda much fewer than when they went.
The Serranos, by their mode of fighting, baffled the energies of our troops, even though they were superior in numbers. They flew from rock to rock, and from one position to another, at the approach of our masses. without intermitting their most galling fire. Even as they fled, they destroyed whole columns, without affording one opportunity of revenge. This mode of fighting had procured for them the name of "Mountain Flies," even from the Spaniards; in allusion to the way in which these restless insects torment mankind, without affording any respite from their pains.
Every detachment that went out of Ronda either for reconnoitring or otherwise, was encompassed with a cloud of sharp-shooters, from the moment of its departure to its return. Every convoy of provisions we brought in cost us several lives. We might have truly said in Scripture language, "That we ate our own flesh, and drank our own blood," in this inglorious war. It was an expiation for the injustice of the cause in which we fought.
The mountains of the kingdoms of Grenada and Murcia were not more submissive than those of Ronda. The French, attacked by the whole population of the country on every point of communication, were in almost parallel circumstances with our regiment, in every mountainous district of the Peninsula. Such is a specimen of the repose we enjoyed after Spain had been conquered, from the frontiers of France to the gates of Cadiz. The siege of that city was now the only military affair of any importance.
When our horses had consumed all the fodder of the farms around Ronda, we were obliged to go farther off, and to send parties of thirty or forty hussars, three or four times a week, for minced straw, several leagues from the city. The weakness of the garrison did not permit us to support our cavalry foragers with detachments of foot, as we often found very necessary. Our horsemen were not always sufficiently strong to repulse the enemy in these petty expeditions, and we studied to elude their vigilance by taking a different road every day, or making a great circuit to avoid the dangerous glens. Not unfrequently we were obliged to make a path for ourselves through the heart of the insurgents, who everlastingly surrounded the city.
For a month my fortune had been most propitious. I succeeded in every enterprise with which I was charged; and the days that I commanded the main-guard, none of the soldiers were killed. The hussars, who are to a certain extent professed fatalists, began to think me invulnerable. On the 1st of May, however, I was wounded almost mortally. But I have been since told, as a consolation, that Fate made a mistake, that I ought not to think myself less fortunate than formerly, for the adjutant-major had erred in ordering the service, and I went in the room of a comrade who had very bad luck.
On the 1st of May I accompanied a detachment of forty-five hussars, under the command of a captain. We were going to seek for straw, four leagues from Ronda in the farms around the village of Settenil. A hundred peasants and muleteers from the town attended us, to take charge of the asses and mules. We set off at 5 a. m., and the captain and I rode foremost. In passing a defile, about half a league on our march, we observed to each other, that surely the enemy must have heard nothing of our excursion, or they would have been watching us here. They could have done us a vast deal of injury without running any risk themselves. On ascending a steep hill, I first of all perceived, a good way off, a cloud of dust; and then distinctly on our right, about four or five hundred armed men, who were advancing in the valley toward the village of Ariate. I told the captain that I could distinguish the enemy, and that I was sure of it from their hurried and disorderly way of marching.
A quartermaster declared that the men observed in the plain were muleteers returning to Ossuna from Ronda where they had been the day preceding, with biscuits and cartridges, and an escort of two hundred men. I stoutly maintained that those I saw were enemies; and added, that if I had the command I would charge them instantly whilst they were still in the plain. "If we are repulsed here," I observed, "we could easily retreat, but we cannot prosecute our journey, without being exposed on our return to an attack in some pass unfavourable for cavalry." The captain was of a different opinion; and we continued our route, and soon came near the village of Settenil.
The laziness and surliness of the Spanish muleteers somewhat excited our suspicion. We had still more reason to be alarmed, when, just as we were preparing to return to Ronda, we saw a peasant on horseback on a distant hill observing our march, and then gallop off as if to advertise the enemy.
When we had done foraging, we returned the same way we came. A convoy of mules was made to pass on before us, between a van-guard of twelve hussars and the body of the troop, at whose head rode the captain and myself. When within two gun-shots of the pass we had most reason to fear, I saw a man on the top of an olive-tree, cutting branches from it with a hatchet. I rode forward at the gallop, and asked him if he had seen the Serranos. He was one himself, as I afterwards learned, and cut down these branches to interrupt our passage. He replied, pretending to redouble his activity, that "he was too busy to attend to what was passing around him." At the same instant the captain also interrogated a child five or six years old, who, with a hesitating low voice, as if afraid of being heard, gave him some confused and contradictory answer. To this we gave little heed; for we just then saw our van. guard and the foremost of the convoy emerge from the far side of the glen, and ascend the opposite hill. We had a very narrow and slippery piece of road to pass, bounded on the sides by high garden hedges, and about five or six hundred paces long. Here we were obliged to march in file. The captain made the same observation to me he did in the morning, that it was a fortunate thing for us the enemy had not stationed an ambuscade in this pass. Scarcely had he said these words, when a volley of four or five shots from behind the hedges killed the three last mules of the convoy, and the trumpeters horse before us. That instant our horses stopped.
The captain should have been the first to proceed, but the animal he rode had belonged to an officer killed on a like occasion a few days previously, and it would not move a step. Seeing this, I applied the spurs, and sprung past the captain; I leaped over the trumpeters horse, as also the mules and their burdens that had just fallen, and passed through the defile alone. The Serranos, concealed behind the hedges, conceived that I was followed closely by the whole troop, and all their pieces were in a moment discharged. I was struck by two of the balls. The one passed through my left thigh; the other entered my body.
The captain followed not far behind, and arrived at the end of the pass unhurt. Of the whole detachment, no more than four of the last were killed; for the enemy required a few minutes to reload their guns, and make a second discharge. The quartermaster, who brought up the rear, had his horse killed; but he counterfeited death, creeped into the brushwood, and at midnight returned to Ronda as well as ever.
When we had rallied, and formed in battle-order on the other side of the glen, I told the captain that I was wounded, that I felt my strength exhausted, and that I would return to Ronda by the nearest road, though it was very steep. He recommended me to stay with the troop, which was going to make a compass of half a league round the margin of the plain, where no enemy need be feared, that it might not be exposed to a second attack unnecessarily. I felt that I could not support so long a march, and entered the hilly road with a hussar attending me, to hold my horses bridle. As I was losing much blood, I was obliged to summon up all my firmness, lest I should have fainted. If I had fallen from my horse, the poniard would doubtless have ended my days. I held by the pommel of the saddle with my hands, and made vain efforts to spur my horse forward with the only leg I could use. The poor animal could go no faster, but staggered at every step he took, for a ball had shot him through.
When I was about half a league from the city, my horse could scarcely move. The hussar who attended me, rode off at the gallop, to tell the picquet on the top of the hill. I made a few paces by myself, without seeing almost any thing, and scarcely even hearing the shots fired at me by some peasants cutting down wood a little way off. The soldiers at length arrived to succour me, and I was carried to my lodgings in my horse-cloth.
I was met by my Spanish hosts, who would not let me be taken to the military hospital, where an epidemic fever raged. I would in all probability have found there, like many others, death for a cure. My hosts had, to that day, behaved towards me with a cold and distant politeness, regarding me as an enemy of their country. This feeling of patriotism, which I respected, had made me as reserved towards them. But when I was wounded, they displayed the most tender concern for my welfare, and treated me with that generosity and kindness which so eminently characterize the Spaniards. They said to me, that since I could do no more harm to Spain, they considered me as a member of their family. Without leaving me a moment for fifty days, they indeed rendered me all the attention which human nature could have showed.
At daybreak on the 4th of May, the insurgents came to attack Ronda in greater strength than they had ever before mustered. The bells passed so near the windows of my room, that my guardians found it necessary to remove my bed to the adjoining chamber. My host and hostess soon after came to tell me, but with an air of calmness they struggled to preserve, that the mountaineers were at the end of the street, that they were fast gaining ground, and that the old city was on the point of falling into their hands. They declared that they would use every effort to save me from the fury of the Serranos, until General Valdenebro, who was their relation, should arrive. They accordingly hastily concealed my arms, my military dress, and every thing else which could have betrayed me to the enemy. With the assistance of their servants, they bore me to the top of the house, behind a little chapel, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, considering that consecrated spot as an inviolable asylum. My hosts then hastened to get two priests, whom they stationed before the street-door to guard the entrance in case of danger, and to defend me in extremity by their presence.
An old lady, the mother of my hostess, remained alone with me engaged in prayer. As the shouts of the combatants, and the noise of firearms, announced that the tide of battle rolled nearer or retired, so did she count the beads of her rosary faster or slower. About noon the firing became fainter, and then ceased altogether. The enemy were beaten in every quarter, and my comrades came to relate the particulars of the engagement as soon as they alighted.
The second hussars received orders a few days after to go to Santa Maria. They were replaced by the forty-third regiment of the line; and of all my corps, none but myself remained at Ronda. I knew none of the officers of the new garrison, and no other Frenchman visited me but a subaltern adjutant of infantry, who came from time to time to inquire at my hosts if I was not dead yet, or departed. He was very impatient to obtain possession of my quarters.
After my comrades were gone, my hosts redoubled their care and kindness towards me. They spent several hours of the day in my chamber; and when I became convalescent, they invited some of their neighbours every evening to chat at my bed-side, and perform a little concert to divert my mind from its sorrows., They sung their national airs, and accompanied them on the guitar.
My hostesss mother had conceived a great friendship for me, ever since the day she prayed so fervently for my deliverance when the city was assaulted. Her second daughter was a nun in a convent of noble ladies, and she now and then inquired after me, and sent little baskets of perfumed lint covered with rose leaves. The nuns of the different convents of Ronda fasted and did penance as often again, after we entered Andalusia, as before. They passed the greater part of the night supplicating success to the Spanish cause, and the day was spent in preparing medicaments to send to the wounded French. This melange of patriotism and Christian charity was by no means rare in Spain.
On the 18th of June, I rose for the first time since I was wounded. I was obliged to begin my sad apprenticeship of walking with crutches, having totally lost the use of one of my legs. I went to see the horse that had been wounded along with me. He had become quite recovered, but did not know me at first, which showed how much I must have been changed. I left Ronda on the 22d, on an ammunition-waggon, which was going for cartridges to Ossuna, under a strong escort. I bade adieu to my hosts with the same kind of grief as is felt on leaving, for the first time, the dear paternal roof. They were no less sad at my departure, for the kindness which I had experienced at their hands, had made them love me as their own.
I went from Ossuna to Essica, and from thence to Cordova. Troops of Spanish partisans, two or three hundred strong, scoured the country in all directions. When pursued, they retreated to the mountains which separated Andalusia from La Mancha and Estremadura, or to those which bound the shore. These numerous bodies, called guerrillas, served to keep up that universal ferment which prevailed throughout the country; and they also maintained communications between Cadiz and the interior of Spain. They told the people such stories, as that the Marquis de la Romana had beaten the French at Truxillo, or that the English from Gibraltar had completely defeated them near the shore. These reports, most industriously scattered, though quite improbable, were always received with transport. Hope, thus continually kept alive, stirred up the nation, in one part or other, to partial revolts, and the news of successes never gained, often led the way to such as were real.
At a little distance from Cordova, there existed a most noted band of robbers. These thieves by profession, never abandoned the practice of plundering Spanish passengers. But by way of discharging the obligation which every subject contracts at his birth, of shedding his blood for his country when invaded by foreign foes, these brigands also lifted arms against the French, and attacked their detachments when they could, though they had no prospect of gain.
After leaving Andalusia, I crossed La Mancha. I was obliged to stop several days at every station, waiting for the return of the escorts that regularly conveyed ammunition to the siege of Cadiz. Sometimes completely wearied out by staying long in wretched lodgings, I have abandoned myself to my fate, and ventured to go unaccompanied from one halting-place to another. The commanders at the different posts of communication could not spare a convoy but for the essential service of the army, for they often lost several soldiers when escorting a single courier a few leagues.
King Joseph could not devise a plan for collecting his revenues regularly. It was to no purpose that he sent flying columns to scour the country. The people fled for refuge to the mountains, or, with more courage, defended themselves in their houses. The soldiers pillaged the villages, and the contributions were not received. Peaceable inhabitants sometimes had to pay for all the rest, but were again more heavily oppressed by the guerrilla chiefs, because they had not fled at the approach of the French. The inhabitants of La Mancha, as well as those of other provinces adjoining, were exasperated by all these grievances, and the number of our enemies increased every day. New Castile, which I passed through also in my journey, was not more tranquil than the province of La Mancha. The Spanish partisans were at the point of taking King Joseph prisoner in one of his own country-houses near Madrid; and often the French were carried off before the gates, and sometimes from the very streets of the capital.
I staid near a month at Madrid, waiting for an opportunity to depart. It was an easy matter to get there from Bayonne, because numerous detachments were always going from thence to reinforce the armies in Spain. But to get permission to return to France, it was necessary to be lame. The Board of Health received the strictest orders; and they granted no leave but to those wounded officers or soldiers of whom they had not the slightest hope of recovery. I was numbered with those who had thus a right to return. Even at the price I paid, I was most glad to quit a war so inglorious and unjust; where the deep feelings of my soul never ceased to disapprove of the mischief which my hands were constrained to commit.
I left Madrid with a numerous caravan of broken-down officers, who were going to France under an escort of only seventy-five foot-soldiers.
We formed a platoon of cripples, commanded by the senior wounded, that we might die in arms if attacked. We were incapable of defending ourselves; and many of us had to be tied on horseback, to enable us to keep our seats.
Two of our company were insane. The first was a hussar, who had lost his reason in consequence of severe wounds he had received on the head. He marched on foot, having been deprived of his horse and his arms, for fear of his escaping or doing mischief. Notwithstanding his derangement, he had not forgotten his degree of rank, and the name of his regiment. Sometimes he took off his hat before us, and showed us the scars of real wounds, which he pretended to have gotten in imaginary battles, of which he spoke incessantly. Our convoy being one day attacked on the march, he eluded the vigilance of his keepers, and recovered his former intrepidity for thrashing enemies, armed with nothing but a simple stick. He called this cane "the magic sceptre of the Grand Sultan of Morocco, his predecessor."
The other was an old Flemish musician of light infantry, whose brain the warmth of Spanish wine had inspired for life with an unmoveable gaiety. He had exchanged his clarinet for a fiddle, which he used to play at the entertainments of his native village when a boy. He marched in the middle of our melancholy troop, both playing and dancing everlastingly.
Not one solitary traveller appeared on the long lonely road we journied; only, we met every two or three days convoys of ammunition, or other escorts, who lodged with us under the shelter of crumbling huts, whose windows and doors had been carried off to supply the French armies with wood. Instead of that crowd of children and idlers that flock, in time of peace, to meet strangers at the entrance of villages, we perceived a small post of French issuing from behind palisades and barriers, calling to us to "halt," that they might know who we were. Sometimes, too, a sentinel would unexpectedly appear, stationed on some old tower in a deserted village--like a solitary owl among ruins.
The nearer we approached France, the more our danger from the partisans increased. At every station we came to, we found detachments from different parts of the Peninsula, waiting our arrival to go with us. Whole battalions - whole regiments, reduced to mere skeletons, or to a very few men - sadly returned with their eagles and colours, to recruit in France, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and Poland. Our convoy left Spain at the end of July, twenty days after Ciudad Rodrigo, a strong fortress of the province of Salamanca, had fallen into the hands of the French.
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