Not until they were within twenty yards did the Miquelets lining the lower wall of rocks leave their post, and, covered by the smoke, gain with little loss the line next above them. Slowly the enemy won their way uphill, suffering heavily as they did so, and continually being reinforced from the rear. At the last wall the peasants, gathered now together, maintained a long resistance; and it was not until fully four thousand of the enemy were brought up that the position was seriously threatened. Then their leader, seeing that they would sustain very heavy loss if the enemy carried the wall by assault, ordered his trumpeter to sound the retreat. It was at once obeyed, and by the time the French had crossed the wall the peasants had already passed out at the other end of the village.
As the French cavalry had not been able to pass the lower walls there was no pursuit. The peasants rallied after a rapid flight of a mile. Their loss had been small, while that of the French had been very considerable; and the marshal halted his troops round the village for the day.
The result of the fighting added to the resolution of the peasants, and as soon as the French continued their route the next morning the fighting began again. It was a repetition of that of the preceding day. The enemy had to contest every foot of the ground, and were exposed to a galling fire along the whole line of their march. Many times they made desperate efforts to drive the peasants from the hillsides; sometimes they were beaten back with heavy loss, and when they succeeded it was only to find the positions they attacked deserted and their active defenders already beyond musket fire. At night they had no respite; the enemy swarmed round their camp, shot down the sentries, and attacked with such boldness that the marshal was obliged to keep a large number of his men constantly under arms.
At last, worn out by fatigue and fighting, the weary army emerged from the hills into the wide valleys, where their cavalry were able to act, and the ground no longer offered favorable positions of defense to the peasantry. Seeing the uselessness of further attacks, the Count of Cifuentes drew off his peasants; and Tesse marched on to Barcelona and effected a junction with the troops from Roussillon under the Duke de Noailles, who had come down by the way of Gerona. The town was at once invested on the land side; while the Count of Toulouse, with thirty French ships, blockaded it from the sea.
CHAPTER XIII: THE FRENCH CONVOY
A report having arrived at the camp of the Count of Cifuentes that the peasants around Saragossa had risen in insurrection, Jack thought that he should be doing more good by discovering the truth of the rumor, and by keeping the earl informed of the state of things in the enemy's rear, than by remaining with the count. He hesitated whether he should take his two orderlies with him, but as they were well mounted he decided that they should accompany him, as they would add to his authority, and would, in case of need, enable him the better to assume the position of an officer riding in advance of a considerable force.
After a hearty adieu from the Count of Cifuentes, he started soon after daybreak. After riding for some hours, just as he reached the top of a rise, up which he had walked his horse, one of the orderlies, who were riding a few paces behind him, rode up.
"I think, Captain Stilwell," he said, "I hear the sound of firing. Brown thinks he hears it too."
Jack reined in his horse.
"I hear nothing," he said, after a pause of a minute.
"I don't hear it now, sir," the man said. "I think it came down on a puff of wind.. If you wait a minute or two I think you will hear it."
Jack waited another two minutes, and then was about to resume his journey, when suddenly a faint sound came upon the wind.
"You are right, Thompson," he exclaimed, "that's firing, sure enough. It must be a convoy attacked by peasants."
He touched his horse with the spur and galloped forward. Two miles further on, crossing the brow, they saw, half a mile ahead of them in the dip of the valley, a number of wagons huddled together. On either side of the road men were lying, and the spurts of smoke that rose from these, as well as from the wagons, proved that they were still stoutly defending themselves. A light smoke rose from every bush and rock on the hillsides around, showing how numerous were the assailants. Leaving the road, Jack galloped toward the hill. Presently several balls came singing round them.
"They think we are French, sir," one of the troopers said. "I guess they don't know much about uniforms."
Jack drew out a white handkerchief and waved it as he rode forward, shouting as he did, "English, English." The fire ceased, and the little party soon reached the spot where the peasants were lying thickly in their ambushes.
"I am an English officer," Jack said as he leaped from his horse. "Where is your leader?"
"There is one of them," a peasant said, pointing to a priest, who, with a long musket in his hand, rose from behind a log.
"Reverend father," Jack said, "I have come from the Earl of Peterborough with a mission to understand how matters go in Arragon, and to ascertain what force would be likely to join him in this province against the invader."
"You see for yourself how things go," the priest said. "I am glad to see an officer of the great Earl of Peterborough, whose exploits have excited the admiration of all Spain. To whom have I the honor of speaking?"
"I am Captain Stilwell, one of the earl's aides de camp; and you, father?"
"I am Ignacio Bravos, the humble padre of the village of San Aldephonso. And now, Captain Stilwell, if you will excuse me till we make an end of these accursed Frenchmen, afterward I will be at your service."
For another two hour's the conflict continued. Jack saw that the fire of the defenders of the wagons was decreasing, and he was not surprised when a white handkerchief was raised on the top of a bayonet and waved in the air in token of desire to parley. A shout of exultation rose from the Spaniards. The priest showed himself on the hillside.
"Do you surrender?" he shouted.
"We surrender the wagons," an officer called back, "on condition that we are allowed to march off with our arms without molestation."
A shout of refusal rose from the peasants, and the firing was instantly renewed. Jack went and sat down by the side of the priest.
"Father," he said, "it were best to give these men the terms they ask. War is not massacre."
"Quite so, my son," the priest replied coolly. "That is what you should have told Marshal Tesse. It is he who has chosen to make it massacre. Why, man, he has shot and hung hundreds in cold blood in and around Saragossa, has burned numerous villages in the neighborhood, and put man, woman, and child to the sword."
"Then, if this be so, father, I should say, by all means hang Marshal Tesse when you catch him, but do not punish the innocent for the guilty. You must remember that these men have been taken away from their homes in France, and forced to fight in quarrels in which they have no concern. Like yourself, they are Catholics. Above all, remember how many scores of villages are at present at the mercy of the French. If the news comes to the marshal that you have refused quarter to his soldiers, he will have a fair excuse for taking vengeance on such of your countrymen as may be in his power."