At the Point of the Sword

by Herbert Hayens

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  THE HUSSARS OF JUNIN.

  Contrary to custom, we moved off the ground slowly, marching along withswarms of Indians on our flanks and in front. For once in a wayBolivar had adopted caution instead of the fiery recklessness heusually displayed, and seemed resolved on running no unnecessary risks.Our course lay southward, over very rough, broken ground, and a staffofficer informed Plaza we were making for the plains of Junin, to thesouth of Lake Reyes.

  "We shall catch Canterac there," said he, "or Canterac will catch us; Ihardly know which at present."

  Our bivouac that night was cheerless and uncomfortable. The positionwas a very strong one, but Bolivar was evidently determined to leavenothing to chance. The sentries were doubled and in some placestrebled, so that most of us were unable to snatch more than a fewhours' sleep. Early in the morning the journey was resumed, and aftera tedious march of fifteen miles through mountainous country wesuddenly beheld the Royalist army crossing the plains at our feet. Themen, breaking into a thundering "Viva," waved their caps or swung theirlances in the air, and the cavalry were ordered to shift their saddlesfrom the mules to the led horses.

  "'Twill be a cavalry action," said Plaza, vaulting into his saddle."Here comes an 'aid' with orders."

  "There goes Miller with a squadron," cried Alzura. "We shall be out ofit. The Colombian Horse are moving too. We shall be left behind withthe infantry."

  "Not so fast," said Plaza, laughing, as Bolivar's messenger dashed upto Colonel Suares, who was in charge of our squadron. "Now for it!"

  "You won't be quite so eager presently," growled the tough old major."Look at the ground; see the defile between the swamp and the hills.Canterac can cut us to pieces there, and he's soldier enough to knowit."

  "No, no, major; his cavalry aren't a patch on ours. We've never had achance to show our mettle before."

  "Well, we shall have one now," said the major, as we began to descendto the plain.

  Two Colombian squadrons were in front of us, while Miller was stillfurther ahead and bearing to the left. On the other side of the defilewe caught a glimpse now and then of the Royalist cavalry forming up.The ground was so broken that we could only go at a foot-pace, and Ibegan to think the major might be right.

  As we entered the defile there came a great shout of "Viva el Rey!"from the plains ahead, and the next instant the Royalist horsemen,thirteen hundred strong, and led by Canterac himself, dashed madly tothe attack.

  "Viva! viva!" they yelled, cutting and thrusting with sabre and lance.The onset was like a mighty avalanche, and our men were for the mostpart overwhelmed. A few of the strongest and best mounted cut theirway through, but numbers were overthrown, and the rest came flyingback, with the victorious Royalists slashing and cutting on all sides.

  "By St. Philip," muttered Plaza, "we shall be swept away."

  Our colonel, seeing the danger, manoeuvred us into an angle of themarsh, just as the mob of horsemen, friend and foe inextricably mixed,swarmed down, shouting, struggling, fighting.

  "Forward! forward!" yelled the exultant Royalists, sweeping past like awhirlwind.

  Farther away on the left, another body was driving Miller's men intothe swamp, and it seemed that the Patriot cavalry must be annihilated.But our squadron remained untouched, and leading us into the plain,Suares issued an order to charge the Royalists who were handlingMiller's troops so roughly.

  "We must win or die, my lads!" he cried; "the country depends on us."

  The men cheered with a will and shook their sabres; we settled morefirmly in our saddles; the colonel rode to the front; the squadronmoved forward and broke into a trot. Men and officers alike knew thatour leader had spoken no more than the truth. We must win or die! Onus alone hung the issue of the battle. If we failed, hardly a man ofthe Patriot cavalry would leave the field alive; if we won, theRoyalists must stop the pursuit in order to help their comrades.

  It was a heavy task, but one thought cheered and nerved us. We wereall Peruvians belonging to the Legion, and it was but fitting that thedesperate venture should fall to us. How our infantry battalion wouldcheer, how proudly they would greet us, should we return victorious!It would be glorious to show both friends and enemies that thePeruvians could strike a stout blow in their own defence.

  "Gallop!"

  We received the order with a cheer, bent low in the saddle, and graspedour sabres firmly. Suares knew his work, and led us across a widestretch of smooth, firm ground, the very spot for a cavalry charge.

  Finding themselves between two foes, the Royalists faced about anddashed at us. The shock was tremendous: men and horses were bowledover like ninepins; great gaps appeared in the ranks; men went down andwere trampled under foot in the furious fray; there was a ring of steelas sabre clashed with sabre, and the defiant shouts of the combatantsmingled with the groans of the wounded.

  Reeling and panting, I found myself on the other side of the press.Plaza was there, too, with a dozen of his men. Alzura broke throughsmiling in spite of a nasty cut across the face, and was followed bymany more. Then above the din General Miller's voice was heard, and weflushed with pride.

  "Bravo, my boys!" he cried; "I'm proud of you! All the army will singyour praises presently."

  Freed from the Royalists, his men had got out of the swamp, and nowcame to join us. The few Colombians who had cut their way through inthe first attack galloped back, and inspirited by General Miller'sstern "Hurrah!" we once more flung ourselves on the foe. It was steelto steel now, and the Spaniards stood their ground well till they sawtheir comrades retreating from the defile. Then, with the exception ofa devoted few who stayed in a grim ring around the standard-bearer,they turned to flee.

  "The flag!" cried the general; "have at the flag!" And like a torrentin flood, we swept down on the little band.

  "Rally to the flag!" cried a voice I knew well, and the next instant Iwas crossing swords with Santiago Mariano. I do not care much to dwellon this part of the fight. These Royalists were the pick of theirsquadron, and it seemed as if each man would die where he fought ratherthan surrender the colours. Three or four times the flag disappeared,but came up again the next instant, and presently I saw it borne aloftby Santiago, who had been forced away from me in the fierce turmoil.Hardly a dozen men remained with him now, and we were all round him.

  "Surrender!" cried the general. "It is a pity to kill so brave a man!"

  Santiago laughed lightly, dug the spurs deep into his horse's sides,cleared a passage with his sabre, and wheeling his horse by thepressure of his knees, bounded away, crying defiantly,--

  "Rally to the flag! Viva el Rey!"

  A young Colombian officer levelled his pistol; but Miller struck it up,saying,--

  "The odds are heavy enough now. If you want the flag, get it with yoursword."

  The youngster's face flushed, but he kept his temper, and saluting thegeneral, dashed after Santiago, crying,--

  "To me, Colombians!"

  As Suares had foreseen, our action gave the beaten squadron a chance torally; officers and men who had survived the crushing avalanchecollected in groups, and the fight was proceeding fiercely on the openplain. Ordering our squadron to re-form, the general placed himself atour head.

  Meanwhile, I was watching the gallant Santiago and his handful of men.He was a superb rider, and able to guide his horse without using thereins, thus leaving both hands free. His Royalist comrades, nowreunited, were opposite the defile, and too far off to help, whileseveral detachments of Patriot cavalry were hurrying to cut off hisretreat. Behind him, too, thundered the hot-headed Colombian officerwith a dozen troopers.

  "That plucky Royalist officer will be killed," said the general toColonel Suares. "He's a gallant fellow--eh, Crawford?"

  "He is, sir," I answered warmly; "and I'd give anything to see him getthrough safely."

  "Why, Crawford," returned the general, smiling, "that sounds very muchlike treason."

  By this time we
ourselves were in motion, but as my place was on theflank, I had a good view of Santiago's desperate venture. A body ofColombians, some twenty strong, had thrown themselves across his path;and though they were our allies, I could hardly keep from cheering ashe dashed through them, losing, as far as could be seen, only one manof his little band.

  Casting a backward glance to see how his followers fared, he waved theflag again, and I could guess at the defiant shout of "Viva el Rey!"that came from his lips.

  "He's just splendid," said I, between my teeth. But surely now histime was come! Close on his heels rode the beaten Colombians, while infront another detachment, far stronger, awaited him. What would hedo--surrender? That, I felt sure, would never enter his head.

  One chance of escape there was if he would take it. By swervingsharply to the left he might avoid the hostile troopers, and gallopacross the plain to the Royalist infantry. It was evident he saw thisway out; but his blood was up, and he made straight for the forest oflances.

  "Lost!" said I, with a groan. "Poor old Santiago!"

  I counted eight men with him, and Royalist and Patriot troops combinedheld none braver. It was magnificent, and yet terrible, to watch themspring at the massed troops, Santiago only slightly in advance of them.I held my breath as they leaped into the throng and were swallowed up.We were not near enough to distinguish the flag amidst the flashingsabres and the long-handled lances, but I feared it had fallen with itsdaring protector.

  The tumult showed that some of the brave few still lived, and suddenlyI heard General Miller, as if his feelings had surprised him intospeech, say in English,--

  "By Jove, he's through!"

  It was true. There in the distance rode a man bare-headed, waving aflag defiantly, and for all we knew cheering for the king. One by onefour others joined him, and continued the gallop: their comrades laydead on the plain.

  Had half the Royalist cavalry possessed Santiago's pluck, the story ofthis affair at Junin would have had a different ending.

  As it was, the Spaniards began to waver. They could barely hold theirown against the reassembled squadrons from the defile, and our arrivalhad turned the scale. They began to give ground slowly but surely, inspite of their officers' appeals. I saw Santiago again; indeed he wasthe most conspicuous man, though not the highest officer, on the field.Wherever the troops seemed weakest, there he was, flag in hand,cheering them on and fighting desperately.

  When at last they could stand it no longer, but broke and fled, he gottogether another little band to protect the retreat. But for him, Idoubt whether Canterac would have saved a quarter of his cavalry.Once, when turning at bay to repel a fiercer rush than usual, he caughtsight of me, and his face lit up with a smile. He had been wounded,but not dangerously, and his sword-arm was vigorous as ever.

  Again and again, with the aid of his choicest troopers, he stemmed theonset; but his efforts were vain--we were too many. His men droppedone after another, and he was forced to continue the retreat, till theremnant of the Royalist horsemen found shelter behind the lines oftheir infantry, who greeted us with a scattering fire.

  It was now growing dusk, and we could not attack an army, thoughGeneral Miller decided to hang on a little longer. In the long pursuitour men had become scattered over the plain, and he dispatched variousofficers to collect them. Then turning to me, he said,--

  "Crawford, ride back, find General Bolivar, and tell him the Royalistsare in full retreat. If followed up strongly, I believe they woulddisperse."

  Saluting, I turned my horse and rode back rapidly. The scene wasbewildering. Officers galloped this way and that, shouting to theirmen; riderless horses careered madly about; slightly-wounded trooperswere hobbling to the rear; others, more unfortunate, lay on the groundgroaning and calling for water; while here and there mounted men wereescorting groups of prisoners toward our infantry lines.

  Several times I stopped to ask where General Bolivar was. He hadentered the defile with the cavalry; but from the time our firstsquadrons were routed I had seen nothing of him. At last an officertold me that, seeing his horsemen overthrown, the general had gallopedback to the infantry, which he had posted on a very high hill about aleague away.

  "He quite expected to be attacked," added my informant, "never dreamingwe should recover ourselves. The Peruvians saved us. They are finefellows!" For in the gathering gloom he could not distinguish myuniform.

  "Thanks!" said I, laughing; "I'll repeat that compliment to mycomrades," and rode on.

  Bolivar was standing, or to be correct, walking about, on the brow ofthe hill, looking anxiously toward the plain. Several messengers hadbrought him word of the varying fortunes of the fight, but none hadarrived from Miller.

  I passed close to the head of the Peruvian infantry, and the colonelshouted,--

  "What news, Crawford!"

  "Good!" I replied, hurrying along; and reaching Bolivar, I jumped tothe ground and saluted.

  "Where do you come from?" he cried.

  "General Miller, sir. The Royalists are in full retreat--horse, foot,and artillery. The general wishes me to say that a vigorous pursuitwould probably disperse them altogether."

  "Too late," said he; "tell General Miller I have ordered the cavalry toretire on me.--Caza," to one of his officers, "lend--"

  "Lieutenant Crawford, sir."

  "Lend Lieutenant Crawford your horse; his is done up.--Now ride as fastas you can, and give General Miller my message."

  I saluted, sprang into the saddle, dashed past the Peruvian infantry,down the hill, and into the defile. Here I found the main body of ourcavalry retiring in accordance with Bolivar's command, and heard thatMiller, with a squadron of Peruvians, was still following the Royalists.

  It was quite dark now, and the route was covered with hillocks; but Irode on swiftly, trusting to luck, and at length came up with thegeneral, who had halted in his pursuit. On receiving Bolivar's messagehe immediately gave orders to retire, and about seven o'clock wereached our camping-ground.

  Fortunately we managed to collect a little fuel, for the night was sointensely cold that few of the seriously wounded, though receivingevery possible attention, survived its rigours. Even lying close tothe fire and enveloped in our ponchos we shivered.

  A surgeon had sewn up the cut in Alzura's face, and we gave him themost sheltered place, and the one nearest the fire. There was not muchsleep for any of us that night; we were far too excited, and spent mostof the time fighting the battle over again.

  To my delight, every one talked of Santiago and his magnificent bravery.

  "Didn't we take him prisoner once, down south?" asked Plaza. "His faceseemed familiar to me."

  "Yes," said I: "his name is Santiago Mariano, and at that time he was amajor."

  "Faith," observed Alzura, looking up, "as far as fighting goes, heought to be a commander-in-chief! A wounded Colombian told me thefellow sprang on them like a lion falling on a herd of deer. A luckything for us that the Marianos are in a minority among the Royalists."

  "Canterac nearly did the trick though," growled the major. "I thoughthe would drop on us in that defile. I tell you what it is: Bolivar canthank our colonel that he has any cavalry left."

  "Bravo, major! I heard this evening that we saved the army."

  "So we did," chuckled Plaza; "and we can say it without a word ofboasting. I don't care about praising my own men." But the rest wasdrowned in good-humoured laughter, as every one knew that the finesttroop in South America--and the world, too, for that matter--wasPlaza's.

  However, it appeared that we really had done a smart thing: for thenext morning Bolivar held a grand parade, and in presence of the wholearmy ordered that henceforth the regiment of which we formed partshould be known as the "Hussars of Junin;" and General Miller publiclysaid that we deserved the honour.

  After the parade we marched into the town of Reyes, which had beensacked by the Royalists. Bolivar occupied the only hut that had aroof, the rest consisting of not
hing but bare walls. The inhabitantshad fled into the surrounding country, but now they returned, and didall they could to assist us, lighting fires, cooking our scantyrations, and erecting sheds to shelter us from the cold.

  "I suppose it's all right," said Alzura; "but I can't help thinkingBolivar has made a big blunder. While we hang about here, Canterac ispulling himself together, and we shall have all the work to do overagain. If I were the general--"

  "I should join the other side immediately," laughed Plaza.

  "Please don't interrupt," said Cordova. "It amuses me to hear theseyoungsters talk. I'll wager Alzura would have finished the war twoyears ago, only the end might not have been as we anticipate." Atwhich there was a general laugh.

  "What I don't like about Bolivar is his play-acting," I said. "Haveyou seen his hut? Have a look at it in the morning. The doorway ishung with silver ornaments in place of laurel wreaths, which theIndians were unable to get."

  "But he can't help the Indians idolizing him!"

  "Nonsense! Did you ever hear of such rubbish with San Martin? And theIndians worshipped him!"

  "Ah!" exclaimed Plaza, "you're a San Martin man, and jealous of the newsun!"

  "A new comet," said I, a bit testily perhaps, because Plaza hadhappened on an explanation very near the truth.

  "At any rate," observed Cordova, "it's better to be here at our easethan tramping fruitlessly about the mountains. I'm fairly tired ofthat fun. I want a day or two at Lima."

  None of us guessed how much weary marching lay before us ere wereturned to the capital. However, for the time we were incomparatively good quarters, and though grumbling occasionally becauseBolivar had not followed up the victory at Junin, were quite preparedto make the best of things.