Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War

by Herbert Strang

  *CHAPTER XXXVI*

  *Sergeant Wilkes wants to know*

  Mr. Lumsden and Me--Me and Mr. Lumsden--A Lady in the Case--The Pleasureof your Company--O'Hare and the Ladies--The Grampus takes Cover--The Eveof Parting--The Age Limit--Poor Mr. Dugdale!--The Question

  "Want to know about the fight at Corunna, do you? Hanged if you ain'talways wanting to know something. Well, attention! dress by the right!and stand easy while I endeavour to reconstruct the situation."

  The scene was the quay at Lisbon; the speaker was Sergeant Wilkes; theaudience was a knot of green-coated recruits who, to judge by theirdocility, regarded the sergeant with admiration and awe. Since he hadwon the three stripes Wilkes had lost nothing of his loquacity, and had,indeed, cultivated a vocabulary of words long enough to match his newimportance.

  "Here you are, then; that there stands for the formidable French batteryat the summit of the eminence"--he placed a jack-knife on the wallbefore him,--"this here stands for General Disney's brigade"--he put aplug of black tobacco at a distance from the knife,--"this here standsfor the Reserve of that exemplary and notorious general Ted Paget"--heranged two pebbles to the right of the tobacco,--"and this here," takingup one of the pebbles, "is Captain O'Hare's company. Look at him well,'cos 'twas Captain O'Hare's company, and me in it, that won the battleon that most fatal and obstrepolous day. We was a-going up the hilltowards that there battery, when blowed if we didn't get variegated witha lot of French dragoons in among the farmyards. Then up comes Mr.Lumsden, and says to me, 'Corp'ril Wilkes,' he says--I was only acorp'ril then, you understand--'Corp'ril Wilkes,' he says, 'we've got toshove down that there wall and drive the mounseers out. You an' me cando it if we puts our backs into it,' says he. 'Right you are, sir,' saysI, 'we'll fustigate the mounseers and extipulate them to the lastindividual.' Them were the words I used. Well--"

  "I say, sargint," said Corporal Bates, strolling across the road,"that's a smart little craft a-spanking up the river there. Looks likea despatch-boat, eh?"

  "Don't interjeculate," said Wilkes irritably. "You always must put yourspoke in. I was just telling the young 'uns how Mr. Lumsden and me wonthe fight at Corunna; who cares for a despatch-boat?--which it ain't,but only a common sloop."

  "Go on, sargint, if you please," said one of the men.

  "Well, as I was saying, Mr. Lumsden and me was just a-going to shovedown the wall what was intermediate between us and the mounseers when--"

  "Hold hard a bit, sargint," put in Bates; "ain't that there little chapon the boat there rather like the gipsy brat what Mr. Lumsden took upwith?"

  "Corp'ril Bates, if you keep on interrupting your superior orficer Ishall rejuce you. Gipsy brats is neither here nor there; what the young'uns want to know is how me and Mr. Lumsden licked the French atCorunna."

  "That's him; that's Pepito!" cried Bates, heedless of Wilkes' increasingirritation. "P'r'aps he'll be able to tell us what's become of hismaster."

  Bates sheered off, and Wilkes resumed his much-interrupted narrative.He was in the middle of a very vivid description of how Mr. Lumsden andhimself fought eight Frenchmen at the wall, when he became aware of acommotion at some distance along the quay. Chagrined to find theattention of his audience wandering, he stood up, exclaiming:

  "What are the rampaging Vamooses at now?--hang them!"

  But he saw, not Portuguese, but a number of men in the well-known greenof the 95th Rifles, marching up the street, cheering vigorously. Amongthem, in the middle of the causeway, strode two young Spaniards, the oneslim and lissom, the other broad and bulky. Both walked buoyantly, andseemed in high good-humour. Behind them, over their heads, could be seenthe antic figure of Pepito, perched on Bates's shoulders, and looking asproud as a peacock. Wilkes stared at the procession as it approached,wondering to see two Spaniards with the unprecedented escort of BritishRiflemen. All at once he drew himself up, struck his feet together,and, just as the head of the procession reached him, brought his hand tohis eyebrow in the stiff military salute. His face was a study in itssuccessive expressions of perplexity, vexation, and pleasure.

  The recruits were taken too much aback to be able to make their salutebefore the procession had passed.

  "Who's that ragged Don you're saluting, sargint?" asked one of them.

  "Who's that, you dough-faced clod-hopping chaw-bacon, you!" criedWilkes, seizing the opportunity of venting his feelings. "Why, that'sLieutenant Jack Lumsden, him what helped me to lick the mounseers atCorunna. And I'll make it warm for Charley Bates," he muttered,"stealing a march on me like that. Why didn't I perpetrate thedisguise? That's what I want to know."

  Meanwhile Jack and the Grampus had continued their progress until theyarrived at the head-quarters of the 95th. There, two or threesubalterns were seated at an open window, to catch a breath of air fromthe sea, grateful on that hot June day.

  "Hullo!" said Pomeroy, catching sight of the procession, "what are therascals up to now?"

  "Some mischief, you may be sure," said Smith, looking over his shoulder."I shall be glad when we get marching orders to join Sir Arthur. Themen will get horribly loose if we're here long."

  "By George!" said Pomeroy, "they appear to have got two Spaniards amongthem. Why--what--look here, Shirley, isn't that Lumsden's boy Pepitogrinning like a monkey on Bates's shoulder?"

  "Eh! What? Where?" said Smith, pushing his head out. "Jehoshaphat!That fat Spaniard--ha! ha!--don't you see, you fellows?--ha! ha!--he'sthe Grampus, bigger than ever. Gad! I shall die of this! The Grampusin Spanish toggery!"

  "And the other fellow's Jack himself!" shouted Pomeroy excitedly."Hurray! hurray!"

  "'Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!'" quoted Shirley. "Hurray! Threecheers for Lumsden! But what am I to do with my epitaph?"

  "What's all this pandemonium about?" cried a loud voice from the door ofthe room. "I wish you gentlemen would behave less like a pack ofschoolb--"

  "Lumsden's back, sir," said Smith. "The men are escorting him up thestreet."

  "Good gad!" ejaculated Colonel Beckwith. Then, without more ado, hecaught up Smith's cap from the table, stuck it on his head, and randownstairs buttoning up his jacket on the way. He reached the door justin time to meet Jack before he entered.

  "'Pon my honour--how d'e do?--glad to see you, hang it! You're notdead, then, after all?"

  "Not a bit, sir," said Jack, heartily returning his handgrip. "Come toreport myself, sir."

  "Good gad! What a--what a villainous brigand you look! But we'll soonput that right. 'Pon my honour, I am deuced glad to see you."

  The colonel shook hands again, and for some minutes Jack's arm was goingup and down like a pump handle as he returned the greetings of his oldfriends, who meanwhile volleyed questions at him with clamorousexcitement.

  "Uncommonly kind of you fellows," he panted, "but if you'll excuse me--"

  "Not a bit of it," cried Smith. "Excuse you, indeed!"

  "No, begad," said the colonel. "You'll come in and let us drink yourhealth--three times three. Come along."

  "Most happy, sir, if you'll just allow me five or six minutes. The factis, there's a lady on board, and--"

  "Good gad! A lady!"

  "And I came to get a coach to fetch her."

  "Of course. A lady! My barouche is at your service. Here, Ogbourne,bring the barouche round in two minutes, for Mr. Lumsden.--Used to beyour man, I think; a useful fellow.--Hang me! I must go and findCaptain O'Hare."

  Not many minutes later the subalterns at the window were as muchsurprised as interested to see the colonel's heavy rumbling chariot drawup at a house almost exactly opposite.

  "I say, you fellows," cried Smith, "get out of sight. We don't want thelady to think we're a lot of peeping Toms."

  "She's probably as old as your grandmother," said Pomeroy, "and longpast blushing. Still--"

  Consequently, when Juanita and her old duenna stepped out of the coachand entered the oppos
ite house, there were no spectators of the scene.But when Jack returned to head-quarters he was instantly the mark of arunning fire of questions. His fellow-officers, from the coloneldownwards, were consumed with curiosity to know whether she was young orold, tall or short, dark or fair; where he had found her; what was hername. Shirley eagerly asked whether she was the famous Maid ofSaragossa; Pomeroy was boiling with impatience because the Grampus hadabsolutely refused to give any information.

  "Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried Jack, "I can't attend to you all at once.The lady is the Senorita Juanita Alvarez, daughter of my father's oldpartner, on her way to England, and the friend with whom she is stayinghas invited the officers of my company to dinner to-morrow, so that ifyou care to go I'll introduce you en bloc."

  "Bedad now," said Captain O'Hare, "that's mighty perlite. I mustpractise my best bow, and get my hair cut. 'Tis a powerful pitypigtails are just gone out of fashion, for sure I always looked killingin a pigtail. Ah well!"

  "Come, Mr. Lumsden," said the colonel, "the Senorita has driven you outof our heads. What have you been doing with yourself? We learnt whenMr. Frere came home that you had gone to Saragossa, and not a man of usexpected to see you again. Ogbourne, get some tumblers, and we'll dothe honours."

  It was late before the meeting broke up, and then not one of the companywas satisfied. Jack had given them, indeed, a full and interestingaccount of the siege of Saragossa in general, but he appeared to bewoefully lacking in detailed information about his own part in it. Hewas not so affectedly modest as to conceal the facts that Palafox hadentrusted him with the defence of a certain district, and that thedistrict was still in Spanish hands when the siege ended; but of theweeks of ceaseless work, unresting vigilance and anxious thought whichhad purchased his success he said never a word. Colonel Beckwithwatched him closely as he told his story, and at its conclusion made abrief comment which gave him a thrill of pleasure.

  "Gentlemen," he said, rising, "I speak for you all when I say that we'reglad to have Lumsden back at the mess. There are big gaps in his storywhich somebody has to fill; but we don't want 'em filled to know thathe's been an honour to the British army, and a credit to the Rifles. Igive you Mr. Lumsden!"

  When the cheers that followed the toast had died away, Jack on his sidewas eager to learn what had brought his old friends back to thePeninsula. Hearing that a new campaign was opening under Sir ArthurWellesley, his face clouded for a moment.

  "Sure an' ye've done enough for glory," said Captain O'Hare, noticingthe expression, "and there's never a doubt the colonel will let ye gohome to your sorrowing mother,--not to speak of escorting the colleen."

  Jack blushed.

  "Thank 'ee!" he said, "but I'm not going to run away from the regiment.Have you got a uniform to spare?"

  "What, aren't ye in love then? Sure an' when I was your age I wasdesp'rately in love with half a dozen at once--the milkmaid, and thedoctor's daughter, and the girl in the haberdasher's in SackvilleStreet, and a lot more."

  "'I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more,'"

  quoted Shirley lugubriously.

  "Honour, bedad! That's what I said to Patsy O'Dowd when she taxed mewith making eyes at Honour O'Grady, and she boxed my ears,--and Patsyhad a powerful heavy hand, begore. And if ye're not afraid of someonecutting you out--Mr. Dugdale, for instance ... By the way, is he goinghome too?"

  "Not a doubt of that, sir," said the Grampus himself. "Amateuring isn'tsuch fun as you'd think; why, I had to peel the onions till theFrenchman came! I'm sick of it; and I'm going home to practisedoctoring on a new plan."

  "What's that about onions?" called Colonel Beckwith from the head of thetable.

  The Grampus proceeded to relate his capture by the guerrilleros, and toexpatiate on various little grievances incident to his state of bondage,which the company appeared to find vastly entertaining. This want ofsympathy with his misadventures nettled even the good-natured Grampus,who became more and more red and indignant, until at length he burstout:

  "Well, at any rate I did some good, and that was no laughing matter. Ifit hadn't been for me they'd have tortured some scores of poor devils ofFrenchmen that Lumsden bagged--so there!"

  "Story! story!" was shouted round the table.

  "You must get Lumsden to tell you that. He caught 'em; but 'twas aspeech I made saved 'em from being fried or boiled or something."

  "Now, Lumsden, fill up that gap," said the colonel.

  Seeing that there was no help for it, Jack gave a brief account of hisadventure with the commissary's party at Morata, awarding a due meed ofpraise to Antonio the guerrilla captain.

  "He was a good sort," he added, "quite mild-mannered for a Spaniard.None of them knew a word of English, and he complained that his men hadbeen roused to fury against the prisoners by the violent harangue of theEnglish senior. He could hardly hold them."

  "Oh, come now!" expostulated Dugdale. "I didn't know Spanish, but Imade myself clear enough."

  "Exactly," said Jack; "when you pointed to your throat and then to thefire, the poor simple guerrilleros were only in doubt as to whether youmeant roasting or garrotting."

  A roar of laughter completed the Grampus's discomfiture.

  "Bet you--" he began in desperation; but finding himself unable to statea wager that would meet the case, he buried his face in a tankard, fromwhich it took a considerable time to emerge.

  Next day it was a quiet and subdued group that crossed to the houseopposite. Captain O'Hare was unmistakeably nervous, Pomeroyself-consciously gorgeous, and Shirley pale with sitting up late theprevious night over a Spanish grammar, conjugating the verb Amor in allits moods and tenses. The Grampus took his revenge in chaffing them,and they all grunted approval when Captain O'Hare exclaimed:

  "Bedad, if 'twas on Shannon's shore 'tis meself that would be at home,but 'tis a mighty different thing meeting a Spanish lady on the banks ofthe Taygus without a word of the lingo to turn a compliment."

  But they were agreeably surprised when, after being welcomed in brokenEnglish by their portly and amiable Portuguese hostess, they weregreeted in the same tongue, spoken with the prettiest accent imaginable,by a charming young senorita. Her beauty made an instant and visibleimpression on Captain O'Hare's susceptible soul.

  The dinner was long remembered and talked of by the officers of O'Hare'scompany. There was a numerous party, Spanish, Portuguese, and English.Jack was unwillingly the hero of the evening, and the flatteringattentions paid him would have been still more embarrassing had he notbeen so preoccupied in watching Juanita, who appeared to him in a quiteunaccustomed light. He had admired her courage during the dark days ofthe siege; he had got an inkling even then of the essential brightnessof her temperament; but he was hardly prepared for her perfect ease andself-possession, the vivacity of her conversation, and her social tact.He felt an inexplicable sinking at the heart; Juanita seemed to befarther away from him than at any time since he had first met her inSaragossa. They had been frank comrades during the hazardous journeyacross country to the coast, and the delightful voyage that had justclosed their adventures, and under stress of circumstances Jack had forso long taken the lead that it was a sort of awakening to find that shewas now independent of his counsel and protection. Moreover, she wasgoing to England. He had intended to go with her, but the return of hisregiment had altered all that. Till this moment he had not realizedwhat a separation might really mean. He felt that they were at theparting of the ways.

  It was from Juanita's lips that his brother officers heard the fullstory of his work in Saragossa, and after. Simply, withoutexaggeration, yet glowingly, she described how, with unfailing resource,he had met and frustrated all the attacks of the French on his littlegarrison and kept the flag flying to the last. Captain O'Hare followedher story with unwavering interest. He was not the man to praiselightly. Indeed, it was not the custom in that age of hard fighters toscatter vain compliments; his subalterns were therefore the more deep
lyimpressed when, in a pause, he turned to Juanita and said in a tonevibrant with earnestness:

  "By my faith, Senorita, yours is a story of which every soldier, Britishor Spanish, may be proud. I honour your countrymen and countrywomen fortheir glorious defence of Saragossa--there is nothing finer that I knowin all history. And we British officers are proud to think that one ofours, one of the 95th, is among the heroes of the siege. We all try todo our duty; few of us get the chance, like my friend Lumsden, of doingso much more than our mere duty; and by my soul, if we do get thechance, I only hope we'll make as good a use of it."

  Jack, who had spent a most uncomfortable half-hour, was greatly relievedwhen the ladies withdrew. But his troubles were not over, for CaptainO'Hare, resuming the brogue which had disappeared during his lateoutburst, said with a chuckle:

  "By Vanus and all the Graces, 'tis a lucky thing for you, you youngscamp, that Peter O'Hare is not fifteen years younger. 'Tis meselfwould have tried a fall wid ye--ay, and come in at a canter. Indeed an'I'm not sure 'tis too late even now. She was mighty civil to me atdinner, indeed she was."

  The worthy captain laughed heartily, and turned to make himselfagreeable, in halting French, to a colonel of Portuguese artillery.

  "Hang it, Lumsden," said Pomeroy, "I call it a crying shame, that merelybecause a man happens to patter a little Spanish he should not only beshoved over the heads of better men than himself, but cut out morepresentable ones with the jolliest girl I've seen this end of the Bay."

  Jack smiled and held his peace.

  "I say, you fellows," said Shirley, "give me a rhyme for Saragossa,someone. I've just knocked off a little gem of a thing--'Lines toJ----a A----z', but hang me if I can tag the last of 'em."

  "A good job too!" said Smith. "The whole company seems to bemoonstruck. 'Pon my word, I believe I'm the only one of you that cankeep his head."

  "Ah," said the Grampus with a capacious sigh, "'tisn't the head, it'sthe heart!" There was a general laugh at his lugubrious accent;whereupon, with a sudden return to everyday life, he cried: "And I'llbet you, Harry George Wakelyn Smith, you're one of the first to find itout."

  Smith snorted scornfully. He little imagined that long before the warwas over he would himself meet the lovely Spanish damsel in distress whowas to become Lady Smith of Aliwal and give her name to a certain littletown, the Saragossa of South Africa.

  Jack, who had taken his comrades' good-humoured banter with unfailingcheerfulness, now slipped away to join the ladies in the sala. When heentered the room, he noticed at once a deeper flush than usual onJuanita's cheeks, and felt that something was amiss. It was some littletime before he could escape the renewed attentions of the circle. Then,seating himself beside Juanita, he said anxiously:

  "Is anything wrong, Juanita?"

  "Wrong! No, of course not. Why should anything be wrong?"

  She turned her head away, and tapped her hand impatiently with her fan.Jack, noting the flush on her cheek, felt uneasily that her mannerbelied her words.

  "I don't know," he said. "I was afraid there was something. I wantedto tell you, Juanita, that--that--well, things have changed, you know.There is to be another campaign; I shall have to march with theregiment. There's no help for it. I can't go back to England--not yet."

  "I knew; I was told it--by somebody else."

  There was that in her tone which made Jack wish that he had told herearlier of what his unexpected meeting with his old comrades mustinevitably involve. He had shrunk from the explanation--he did notquite know why.

  After a moment's silence she added slowly: "I am sorry for Mr. Dugdale;he will have a lonely journey, I fear, and he's so very fond ofcompany."

  "Lonely! But you get on very well together."

  "Oh yes! I like Mr. Dugdale very much, but you see--I shall not bethere. I have made up my mind, quite decided, not to go after all.England is a cold, foggy, horrid country, and I'm sure I shouldn't likethe English. I ought never to have come so far." She rose from herseat. "I will go back to the dear Sisters at Carinena."

  As she moved towards the balcony at the far end of the room, Jack caughtthe sparkle of tears in her eyes. He felt that he must be in fault; howor why he could not tell, and he was too much perturbed at Juanita'sdistress to think the matter out. He merely followed her. When theyreached the balcony they stood for a few moments silent in the twilight,looking with unseeing eyes at the dim plaza below. There was a murmurof voices from the dusk, at first vague and indistinct, the wordsgradually stealing upon their consciousness with clearer and clearermeaning.

  "There he was, poor little beggar, crying his eyes out. 'Ogbourne,' saysI, 'what's amiss with Pepito?' 'Oh!' says he, 'crying for the moon. Hewants to go with the Spanish senorita and stay with Mr. Lumsden at thesame time; which ain't possible.' 'Well,' says I, 'I ain't so sure o'that. They do say he rescued her from old Boney himself and from arascally Don too--yes, and they say she's main fond of him, which isonly natural--considering.'"

  Even in the dusk Jack, stealing a look at Juanita, saw that she hadflushed hotly. As she half-turned to re-enter the room, he imprisonedthe little hand that lay on the balustrade. She did not draw it away.

  "But," continued the insistent voice, "what I want to know is, when's itto be?--that's what I want to know."

  *Glossary of Spanish Words*

  _adelante_, forward! come in!_adios_, adieu._afrancesado_, a Spaniard who had accepted the French domination._agua_, water._alcalde_, mayor, chief magistrate._alguazil_, constable, guard._amigo_, friend._arriero_, muleteer, carrier._ay de mi_, alas! woe is me!_azucarillo_, a confection of paste, sugar, and rose-water._bergantin_, brig._bien_, well._bueno_, good: _buenos dias_, good-morning; _buenas noches_, good-night; _buenas tardes_, good-afternoon._caballero_, rider, gentleman, cavalier._calle_, street._caramba_, an exclamation._casa_, house._cebolla_, onion._cerro_, hill._choriso_, spiced sausage._cigarillo_, a small cigar, whiff._con_, with._contessa_, countess._contrabandista_, smuggler._copa_, cup, goblet._coso_, wide thoroughfare._cuchillo_, knife._cura_, parish priest, parson._dia_, day: _buenos dias_, good-morning._Dios_, God: _Vaya usted con Dios_ (lit. go with God), good-bye._don_, a title, equivalent to esquire._dona_, a title, equivalent to madam._el_, la*, the._Espana_, Spain._fonda_, inn._garbanzo_, a species of bean._gaspacho_, a compound of vegetables and condiments._gitano_, gipsy._gracias_, thanks._guerrillero_, an irregular warrior, member of a guerrilla band._hidalgo_, nobleman._hombre_, man, a common mode of address to inferiors._javaneja_, an old-fashioned dance._junta_, council._manana_, to-morrow._Maragato, one of a race of mingled Gothic and Moorish blood, inhabiting a district in N. W. Spain.*maravedi_, the smallest Spanish coin._marchesa_, marchioness._mareamiento_, sea-sickness._mi_, _mio_, _mia_, my._muchas_, many._noche_, night: _buenas noches_, good-night._nuestra_, our._padre_, father._pan_, bread._patio_, courtyard, characteristic of the better Spanish houses._patron_, landlord._peseta_, silver coin worth about tenpence._plaza_, square, open space: _Plaza Mayor_, great square._par_, by._porta_, gate._posada_, tavern, inn._puchero_, a sort of hot-pot._que hay de nuevo?_ what news?_querida_, darling._quien_, who: _quien vive?_ who goes there?_regidor_, alderman._sala_, hall, drawing-room._san_, _santo_, _santa_, saint._senor_, sir, a title used in addressing equals or superiors._senora_, madam, lady._senorita_, miss, young lady._si_, yes._silencio_, hush! silence!_tarde_, afternoon._tia_, aunt._tio_, uncle._tirador_, sharpshooter._usted_, you._valiente_, brave, valiant._vamos_, come along!_vaya_, go: _vaya usted con Dios_ (lit. go with God), good-bye._venta_, small wayside inn._verdaderamente_, verily, indeed._viva_, hurrah! long live!_vive_: _quien vive?_ who goes there?

 
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