Read Ebook: The Romance of War; or The Highlanders in Spain Volume 2 (of 3) by Grant James

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Ebook has 868 lines and 81374 words, and 18 pages

"We have been lucky in receiving a billet here, and are much indebted to the worshipful alcalde," said Bevan, interrupting a silence which nothing had broken for some time, except the clatter of plates and knives. "A little more of the ham, major."

"And huevos?--With pleasure. But eat away, gentlemen; be quite at home, and make the most of a meal when you can get one. I'll trouble you for that round loaf, Kennedy."

"Splendid bread, the Spanish."

"I have seen whiter in Egypt, when I used to visit the house of Capitan Mohammed Djedda, at Alexandria--"

"A visit nearly cost you your life there once, major."

"You remember it, Bevan; so do I, faith, nor am I likely to forget it. But it is too soon for a story yet; otherwise I would tell the affair to the young subs. Help yourself plentifully, Stuart. Lord knows when we may get such another meal; so store well for to-morrow's march."

"I am hungry enough to eat an ostrich, bones and all, I do believe," said Kennedy. "And in truth, this fare is the most delicious I have seen since I first landed at the Castle of Belem, some eighteen months ago."

"Simple fare it is, indeed," replied the major. "'Tis very well: the Senor Raphael's tocino is excellent, being cured probably for his own use; but his eggs are not so fresh as I used to get from my own roosts at Craigfianteoch, near Inverary."

"A deuced hard name your estate has, major. A little more ham, if you please."

"Meaning the rock of the house of Fingal, when translated?" observed Ronald.

"Right, Stuart, my boy; the rock of the king of Selma."

"It has been long in your family, I suppose."

"Since the year 400. You may laugh, Bevan, being but a Lowlander, yet it is not the less true. Since the days of the old Dabriadic kings, when the great clan Campbell, the race of Diarmid, first became lords of Argyle," replied the major with conscious pride, as he pushed away his plate and stretched himself back in his chair,--"Ardgile, or Argathelia, as it was then called. My fathers are descended in a direct line from Diarmid, the first lord of Lochow."

"A long and noble pedigree, certainly," observed Macdonald with a proud smile, becoming interested in the conversation. "It out-herods mine, though I come of the line of Donald, the lord of the Western Isles."

"D--n all pedigrees!" cried Kennedy, uncorking the sherry. "I am not indebted to my forbears the value of a herring-scale!"

"These are matters only for pipers and seanachies to discuss," said Ronald, affecting a carelessness which he was very far from feeling. Few indeed cherished with a truer feeling of Highland satisfaction the idea that he came of a royal and long-descended line. "Let the subject be dropped, gentlemen. Fill your glasses: let us drink to the downfall of Ciudad Rodrigo!'

"Well said, Stuart," echoed Kennedy; "push the Malaga this way."

"I'll drink it with all my heart," said the major, filling up his glass; "let it be a bumper, a brimming bumper, gentlemen,--the downfall of Ciudad Rodrigo!"

"Pretty fair sherry this, major."

"But it has all the greasy taste of the confounded pig-skin."

"Why the deuce don't the lazy dogs learn to blow decent glass bottles?"

"Try the Malaga. Fill up, and drink to the hearts we have left behind us!"

"Right, Macdonald,--an old Scottish toast," answered Campbell, emptying his horn. "But for Ciudad Rodrigo, I almost wish that the place may hold out until we encounter old Marmont, and thrash his legions to our hearts' content, eh! Bevan?"

"A few days' march will bring us close on Lord Wellington's head-quarters; and should the place not capitulate by that time, we shall probably act Vimiera over again, in the neighbourhood of Ciudad Rodrigo."

"I shall be very happy to see something of the kind," observed Ronald. "I have been six months in the peninsula, and have scarcely heard the whiz of a French bullet yet."

"Should we come within a league of Marmont, your longing for lead will probably be gratified--as we used to say in Egypt, especially should he attempt to raise the siege. But drink, lads; talking makes one very thirsty."

"I am heartily tired of our long forced-marches by night and day, and was very glad when, from the frontiers of Portugal, I looked back and saw the wide plains of Spanish Estremadura left so far behind."

"Many a weary march we have had there, Alister."

"And many more we shall have again."

"Never despond," said Bevan. "With honour and the enemy in our front--"

"But the troops of the Count d'Erlon--"

"Are arrant cowards, I think. They have fled before the glitter of our arms when three leagues off: the very flaunt of our colours is quite enough for them, and they are off double quick!"

"That was a brilliant affair," said Macdonald, "and you unluckily missed it, Stuart."

"Ay; but I hope Marshal Marmont will make me amends next week; and if ever Senor Narvaez comes within my reach--"

"Or mine, by heavens! he shall be made a mummy of!"

"You could scarcely reduce him to any thing more disagreeable, Alister. I saw some in Egypt a devilish deal closer than I relished," said Campbell, filling his glass as if preparing for a story, while a smile passed over the features of his companions, who began to dread one of those long narratives which were readily introduced at all times, but especially when wine was to be had, and the evening was far advanced. The smile, however, was unseen, as the dusk had increased so much, that the gloomy apartment was almost involved in darkness. But without, the evening sky was so clear, so blue and spangled, the air so cool and balmy, and the perfume wafted on the soft breeze from the fertile plain below so odoriferous, that they would scarce have exchanged the ruinous chamber of the posada in which they were seated for the most snug parlour in the most comfortable English inn, with its sea-coal fire blazing through the bright steel bars, the soft hearth-rug in front, the rich carpet around, and the fox-hunts framed on the wall.

"Mummies, indeed!" continued the field-officer; "I almost shiver at the name!"

"How so, major?" asked Ronald. "What! a British grenadier like you, that would not duck his head to a forty-six pound shot?"

"No,--never!"

"Bevan knows all about it."

"He was in Egypt 'with Sir Ralph,' you know. It must be something new to us, major."

His companions resigned themselves to their fate, three of them consoled by the idea that it was one of the major's stories they had never heard before. Cigars were promptly lighted, and the red points, glowing strangely in the dark, were the beacons which dimly showed each where the others sat.

"Drink, gentlemen; fill your glasses, fill away, lads. However, I must tell you the affair as briefly as possible. I am field-officer for the day, and have to visit the quarter-guards and cursed out-picquets in the plain below: but I will go the rounds at ten, and desire them to mark me at two in the morning. They are all our own fellows, and will behave like Trojans, if I wish them."

"Well, Campbell, the story."

After a few short pulls at the cigar, and long ones at his wine-cup, the major commenced the story, which is given in the following chapter, and as near the original as I can from recollection repeat it.

"We are a fine regiment as any in the line; but I almost think we were a finer corps when we landed in Egypt in 1801. We had been embodied among the clan of Gordon just six years before, and there was scarcely a man in the ranks above five-and-twenty years of age,--all fiery young Highlanders, raised among the men of Blair-Athol, Braemar, Strathdu, Garioch, Strathbogie, and the duke's own people, the 'gay and the gallant,' as they were styled in the olden time.

"There is a story current that the corps was raised in consequence of some wager between the Duchess of Gordon and the Prince of Wales, about who would muster a regiment in least time; and certainly, her grace got the start of his royal highness.

"The duchess superintended the recruiting department in famous style,--one worthy Camilla herself! With a drum and fife,--oftener with a score of pipers strutting before her,--cockades flaunting and claymores gleaming, I have seen her parading through the Highland fairs and cattle-trysts, recruiting for the 'Gordon Highlanders;' and a hearty kiss on the cheek she gave to every man who took from her own white hand the shilling in King George's name.

St. George's red cross is the distinguishing badge of every English regiment.

"Poor Sir Ralph! When struck by the death-shot, I saw him reel in his saddle, his silver hair and faded uniform dabbled with his blood. His last words are yet ringing in my ears, as, waving his three-cocked hat, he fell from his horse,--

"'Give them the bayonet, my boys! Forward, Highlanders! Remember the hearts and the hills we have left behind us!'

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