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I 
 
Saragossa 
 
When the other events of the Spanish ivar shall be lost in 
 the obscurity of time, or only traced by disconnected fragments, 
 the story of Zaragoza, like some ancient triumphal pillar 
 standing amidst ruins, tvill tell a tale of past glory, and 
 already men point to the heroic city and call her Spain. 
 
 Napier's '* Peninsular War '* 
 
SARAGOSSA 
 
 A Story of Spanish Valor 
 
 AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION FROM THE ORIGINAL 
 
 '<'0 OF 
 
 BJ^'^PEREZ galdos 
 
 // 
 
 BY 
 
 MINNA CAROLINE SMITH 
 
 I 
 
 -> 
 
 3* , » . ..... », • , , 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 
 LITTLE, 
 
 BROWN, AND 
 1899 
 
 COMPANY 
 
Copyright, i8gg^ 
 By Little, Brown, and Company 
 
 All rights resewed 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A. 
 
0^ i> 
 
 
 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 SARAGOSSA" is the sixth volume in 
 the brilHant series of historical novels 
 by B. Perez Galdos, which begins with " Tra- 
 falgar ** and closes with " The Battle of the Ara- 
 piles," embracing " The Court of Carlos IV," 
 " Gerona," and " Napoleon in Chamartin." 
 
 B. Perez Galdos, possibly known best in the 
 United States as the author of " Doiia Per- 
 fecta," may be called the Walter Scott of Spain. 
 He is, however, truer to history than Scott, 
 and the characters he creates move in an atmos- 
 phere of reality rather than romance. "Sara- 
 gossa" is one of the most powerful, impressive, 
 and popular of the twenty novels wherein he 
 tells the gallant story of his native land. This 
 tale of the second siege of the ancient Aragon 
 city by the generals of Napoleon is a work of 
 art, one that stirs the blood with admiration 
 of the indomitable valor of the Spaniards ; yet 
 is it not also a document of special pleading 
 for the world's peace ? " Saragossa " ranks with 
 Tolstoi's " War and Peace," and Zola's " La 
 Debacle," among great dramatic war novels. 
 Herein also are at least three of the best drawn 
 
 Mi 'X^'^'xrj 
 
Translator's Introduction 
 
 characters in international literature, — the mas- 
 terly miser Candida, his beautiful daughter 
 Mariquilla, and that valiant and lovable citizen, 
 Don Jose de Montoria. Manuela Sanchez ap- 
 pears as a minor character, the " Maid of Sara- 
 gossa " whose bravery is honored in a street 
 named for her in her native city. She is a type 
 of the daughters of Saragossa, for more than one 
 of them, in the exaltation of the terrific struggle 
 against the French, extended their patriotic 
 services beyond those gentle ones usual to 
 women in besieged cities, rallying soldiers and 
 serving guns. 
 
 The events leading up to the siege of Sara- 
 gossa are a part of the history of Spain in her 
 struggle for continued national existence against 
 the encroachments of Napoleon. Although 
 it was national warfare, each province and 
 strong provincial city made its own individual 
 stand. Therefore words like those quoted on a 
 preceding page from Napier's " Peninsular 
 War" have an especial significance. The Eng- 
 lish general's words are doubly striking when 
 read in connection with these of Galdos, 
 " Men of little sense — without any on occa- 
 sion — the Spanish to-day, as ever, make a 
 thousand blunders, stumbling and rising in the 
 struggle of their inborn vices with the eminent 
 qualities which they still preserve. Providence 
 
 vi 
 
Translator's Introduction 
 
 holds in store for this people great advancings 
 and abasements, great terrors and surprises, 
 apparent deaths and mighty resurrections." 
 
 The threatened loss of her nationality was 
 the terror which hung above Spain in the dark 
 days of 1808. Her court was rent with fac- 
 tions ; her royal house was divided against 
 itself. Three parties had made dissension in 
 the palace and among the people. One was 
 the party of the King Carlos IV ; one was 
 that of his son, Prince Ferdinand ; the third, 
 of a most insidious power, was that of Don 
 Manuel Godoy, whose ambitions and preten- 
 sions were supported by the queen. A corrupt 
 court and an intriguing priesthood had pro- 
 moted the troubles of Spain, causing king, 
 prince, and favorite, each and separately, to 
 make application to Napoleon for protec- 
 tion, and for the support of their various 
 plans. The imbecility of the Spanish Bour- 
 bons at such an hour in European his- 
 tory was inevitable in its influence upon the 
 Emperor of the French. His ambition grew 
 with this new opportunity. Under the mask 
 of operating with Spain against Portugal, 
 Napoleon filled the Peninsula with French 
 troops under generals like Junot and Moncey 
 and Lannes. The Spanish king and prince 
 were already in France, and practically in 
 
 vii 
 
Translator's Introduction 
 
 durance there, before the people realized the 
 danger which was close upon their very exist- 
 ence as a nation. Popular insurrections at 
 Toledo and Madrid followed immediately 
 upon the appointment of Murat to a place in 
 the government. The abdication at Bayonne 
 of Carlos IV in favor of Napoleon, and the 
 appointment of Joseph Bonaparte as king 
 of Spain, with the consent of ninety-one 
 Spanish nobles, roused the Peninsula into 
 a spontaneous and determined revolt. War 
 against the French invaders was already raging 
 in every province when King Joseph was 
 crowned at Madrid on July 24. Thus in the 
 virtue of her people began the long struggle 
 of Spain for independence as a nation, — a 
 struggle which was destined not to end until 
 England came to her aid, and the Duke of 
 Wellington delivered her from the power of 
 France. 
 
 Saragossa, although situated in an admirably 
 strong strategic position between the French 
 border and the Spanish capital, was not occu- 
 pied by the French in force at first, because 
 the character of the Saragossans made it unwise 
 to attempt to place a small body of foreign 
 troops among them, and Saragossa — Zaragoza 
 in Spanish — had no citadel. Napoleon him- 
 self could not foresee what a tremendous de- 
 
 viii 
 
Translator's Introduction 
 
 fence would be made, nor that fifty thousand 
 dead would yet speak from this city of Aragon 
 to arouse the courage of Spain. The first 
 siege lasted from mid-June to mid- August, and 
 was raised not only because the defence was 
 fierce, desperate, and unflinchingly prolonged, 
 and because the besieging army under Verdier 
 was greatly weakened, but also because disas- 
 ters to the French arms elsewhere made its 
 abandonment imperative. After the invaders 
 had been victorious at Tudela, Aragon was 
 open to them. Forty thousand French troops 
 — General Napier says thirty-five thousand — 
 besieged the capital of the province whither a 
 large part of the army of Castanos and many 
 other fugitives had fled after their defeat. 
 
 The second and successful siege, with whose 
 events this novel is occupied, continued for two 
 long and fatal months, from the twentieth of De- 
 cember of that same dark year until the twenty- 
 first of the following February. During this 
 time of horror and of braverv, there were also 
 laughter and song, dancing and love-making in 
 Saragossa, and such an idyl of tenderness and 
 passion as this story of Augustine and Mariquilla 
 which is now offered to readers of English. 
 
 M. C. S. 
 
 IX 
 
\ 
 
 SARAGOSSA 
 
 A STORY OF SPANISH VALOR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IT was, I believe, the evening of the eight- 
 eenth when we saw Saragossa in the dis- 
 tance. As we entered by the Puerta de Sancho 
 we heard the clock in the Torre Nueva strike 
 ten. We were in an extremely pitiful condi- 
 tion as to food and clothing. The long journey 
 we had made from Lerma through Salas de 
 los Infantes, Cervera, Agreda, Tarazona, 
 and Borja, climbing mountains, fording rivers, 
 making short cuts until we arrived at the high 
 road of Gallur and Alagon, had left us quite 
 used up, worn out, and ill with fatigue. In 
 spite of all, the joy of being free sweetened our 
 pain. 
 
 We were four who had succeeded in escap- 
 ing between Lerma and Cogollos by freeing 
 our innocent hands from the rope that bound 
 together so many patriots. On the day of the 
 
Saragossa 
 
 escape, we could count among the four of us a 
 total capital of eleven reales ; but after three 
 days of marching, when we entered the metrop- 
 olis of Aragon and balanced our mutual cash, 
 our common wealth was found to be a sum total 
 of thirty-one cuartos. We bought some bread 
 at a little place next the Orphanage, and divided 
 it among us. 
 
 Don Roque, who was one of the members 
 of our expedition, had good connections in 
 Saragossa, but this was not an hour to present 
 ourselves to any one. We postponed until 
 the next day this matter of looking up friends ; 
 and as we could not go to an inn, we wandered 
 about the city, looking for a shelter where we 
 could pass the night. The market scarcely 
 seemed to offer exactly the comfort and quiet 
 which our tired bodies needed. We visited 
 the leaning tower, and although one of my 
 companions suggested that we should take 
 refuge in the plaza, I thought that we should 
 be quite the same as if altogether in the 
 open country. The place served us, none the 
 less, for temporary refuge and rest, and also as 
 a refectory, where we despatched happily our 
 supper of dry bread, glancing now and then at 
 the great upright mass of the tower, whose in- 
 clination made it seem like a giant leaning to 
 
Saragossa 
 
 see who was running about his feet. By the 
 light of the moon that brick sentinel projected 
 against the sky its huddled and shapeless form, 
 unable to hold itself erect. The clouds were 
 drifting across its top, and the spectator look- 
 ing from below trembled with dread, imagining 
 that the clouds were quiet and that the tower 
 was moving down upon him. This grotesque 
 structure, under whose feet the overburdened 
 soil has settled, seems to be forever falling, yet 
 never falls. 
 
 We passed through the avenue of the Coso 
 again from this house of giants as far as the 
 Seminary. We went through two streets, the 
 Calle Quemada and the Calle del Rincon, both 
 in ruins, as far as the little plaza of San 
 Miguel. From here, passing from alley to 
 alley, and blindly crossing narrow and irjegular 
 streets, we found ourselves beside theN^uins of 
 the monastery of Santa Engracia, whicH was 
 blov/n up by the French at the raising of the 
 first siege. The four of us exclaimed at once 
 in a way to show that we all thought the same 
 thing. Here we had found a shelter, and in 
 some cosy corner under this roof we would 
 pass the night ! 
 
 The front wall was still standing with its 
 arch of marble, decorated with innumerable 
 
 3 
 
Saragossa 
 
 figures of saints which seemed undisturbed and 
 tranquil as if they knew nothing of the catas- 
 trophe. In the interior we saw broken arches 
 and enormous columns struggling erect from 
 the debris, presenting themselves, darkling and 
 deformed, against the clear light flooding the 
 enclosure, looking like fantastic creatures gen- 
 erated by a delirious imagination. We could 
 see decorations, cornices, spaces, labyrinths, 
 caverns, and a thousand other fanciful archi- 
 tectural designs produced by the ruins in their 
 falling. There were even small rooms opened 
 in the spaces of the walls with an art like that 
 of Nature in forming grottos. The fragments 
 of the altar-piece that had rotted because of the 
 humidity showed through the remains of the 
 vaulting where still hung the chains which had 
 suspended the lamps. Early grasses grew be- 
 tween the cracks of the wood and stone. Among 
 all this destruction there were certain things 
 wholly intact, as some of the pipes of the organ 
 and the grating of the confessional. The roof 
 was one with the floor, and the tower mingled 
 its fragments with those of the tombs below. 
 When we looked upon such a conglomeration 
 of tombs, such a myriad of fragments that had 
 fallen without losing entirely their original 
 form, and such masses of bricks and plaster 
 
 4 
 
Saragossa 
 
 crumbled like things made of sugar, we could 
 almost believe that the ruins of the building 
 had not yet settled into their final position. 
 The shapeless structure appeared to be palpi- 
 tating yet from the shock of the explosion. 
 
 Don Roque told us that beneath this church 
 there was another one where they worshipped 
 the relics of the holy martyrs of Saragossa ; but 
 the entrance to this subterranean sanctuary was 
 closed up. Profound silence reigned, but, pen- 
 etrating further, we heard human voices pro- 
 ceeding from those mysterious deeps. The 
 first impression produced upon us by hearing 
 these voices was as if the spirits of the famous 
 chroniclers who wrote of the Christian martyrs, 
 and of the patriots sleeping in dust below, 
 were crying out upon us for disturbing their 
 slumbers. 
 
 On the instant, in the glare of a flame which 
 illuminated part of the scene, we distinguished 
 a group of persons sheltering themselves, hud- 
 dling together in a space between two of the 
 fallen columns. They were Saragossa beggars, 
 who had made a palatial shelter for themselves 
 in that place, seeking protection from the 
 rain with beams of wood and with their rags. 
 We also made ourselves as comfortable as 
 might be in another place, and covering our- 
 
 5 
 
Saragossa 
 
 selves with a blanket and a half, prepared to go 
 to sleep. 
 
 Don Roque said to me, " I know Don 
 Jose de Montoria, one of the richest citizens of 
 Saragossa. ~Wewere both born in Mequinenza. 
 We went to school together, and we played 
 our games together on the hills of Corregidor. 
 It is thirty years since I have seen him, but I 
 believe that he will receive us well. Like 
 every good Aragonese, he is all heart. We 
 will find him, fellows ; we will see Don Jose 
 de Montoria. I am of his blood on the 
 maternal side. We will present ourselves to 
 him. We will say — " 
 
 But Don Roque was asleep, and I also slept. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE place where we lay down did not by 
 any blandishments invite us to sleep lux- 
 uriously until morning, and certainly a mattress 
 of broken stones is conducive to early rising. 
 We wakened with the dawn; and as we had 
 to spend no time in making a toilet before a 
 dressing-table, we were soon ready to go out 
 and pay our visits. 
 
 The idea came to all four of us at once 
 that it would be a good thing to have some 
 breakfast, but at the same time we agreed 
 unanimously that it was impossible, as we had 
 not the wherewithal to carry out such a high 
 purpose. 
 
 " Don't be discouraged, boys," said Don 
 Roque ; " because very soon I will take you 
 all to the house of my friend, who will take 
 good care of us." 
 
 While he was saying this, we saw emerging 
 from our inn two men and a woman, of those 
 who had been our companions there. They 
 looked as if they were accustomed to sleep in 
 the place. One of them was a cripple, a poor 
 
 7 
 
Saragossa 
 
 unfortunate who ended at his knees, and put 
 himself in motion by the aid of crutches, swing- 
 ing himself forward on them as if by oars. He 
 was an old man, with a jovial face well burned 
 by the sun. As he saluted us very pleasantly 
 in passing, wishing us a good-morning, Don 
 Roque asked him in what part of the city was 
 the house of Don Jose de Montoria. The 
 cripple replied : — 
 
 " Don Jose de Montoria ? I know him as 
 if he were the apple of my eye. It is twenty 
 years since he used to live in the Calle de le 
 Albarderia. Afterwards he moved to another 
 street, the Calle de la Parra, then, — but you are 
 strangers, I see.'* 
 
 /^ Yes, my good friend, we are strangers; and 
 have come to enlist with the troops of this 
 brave city." 
 
 "Then you were not here on the fourth of 
 August ? '* 
 
 " No, my friend," I answered him ; " we 
 
 were not present at that great feat of arms." 
 
 " You did not see the battle of Eras ? " 
 
 asked the beggar, sitting down in front of us. 
 
 " We did not have that felicity either." 
 
 "Well, Don Jose Montoria was there. He 
 
 was one of those who pulled the cannon into 
 
 place for firing. Well, well, I see that you 
 
 8 
 
Saragossa 
 
 have n't seen a thing. From what part of the 
 world do you come ? " 
 
 " From Madrid,'* said Don Roque. " So 
 you are not able to tell me where my dear 
 friend Don Jose lives ? " 
 
 " Well, I should think I can, man, well, I 
 should think I can ! " answered the cripple, 
 taking from his pocket a crust of dry bread for 
 his breakfast. " From the Calle de la Parra 
 he moved to the Calle de Enmedio. You know 
 that all those houses were blown up. There 
 was Stephen Lopez, a soldier of the Tenth 
 Company of the First Regiment of Aragon 
 Volunteers, and he alone, with forty men, 
 himself forced the French to retire." 
 
 " That must have been a fine thing to see ! " 
 said Don Roque. 
 
 " Oh, if you did not see the fourth of 
 August you have seen nothing," continued 
 the beggar. " I myself also saw the fourth of 
 June, because I was crawling along the Calle 
 de le Paja, and I saw the woman who fired off 
 the big cannon." 
 
 " We have already heard of the heroism of 
 that noble woman," said Don Roque; "but if 
 you could make up your mind to tell us — " 
 
 "Oh, of course. Don Jose de Montoria is 
 a great friend of the merchant Don Andres 
 
 9 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Guspide, who on the fourth of August was fir- 
 ing from near the narrow street of the Torre 
 del Pino. Hand-grenades and bullets were 
 raining all about him, and my Don Andres 
 stood like a rock. More than a hundred dead 
 lay about him, and he alone killed fifty of the 
 French." 
 
 '^ Great man, this one ! And he is a friend 
 of my friend ? " 
 
 " Yes, seiior," replied the cripple ; " and 
 they are two of the best gentlemen in all Sara- 
 gossa, and they give me a little something 
 every Saturday. For you must know that I 
 am Pepe Pallejas, and they call me Sursum 
 Corda, as twenty-four years ago I was sacris- 
 tan of the Church of Jesus, and I used to 
 
 sing But this is not coming to the point, 
 
 and I was going on to say I am Sursum Corda, 
 and perhaps you have heard about me in 
 Madrid ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Don Roque, yielding to his 
 generous impulses ; " it seems to me that I 
 have heard the Senor Sursum Corda men- 
 tioned there, have n*t we, boys ? " 
 
 "Well, it *s likely, and you must know that 
 before the siege I used to beg at the door of 
 this monastery of Santa Engracia, which was 
 blown up by the bandits on the thirteenth of 
 
 lO 
 
Saragossa 
 
 August. I beg now at the Puerta de Jerusalem, 
 at the Jerusalem Gate — where you will be 
 able to find me whenever you like. Well, as 
 1 was saying, on the fourth of August I was 
 here, and I saw Francisco Quilez come out of 
 the church, first sergeant of the First Com- 
 pany of fusileers, who, you must already 
 know, with thirty-five men, cast out the bandits 
 from the Convent of the Incarnation. I see 
 that you look surprised — yes ! Well, in the 
 orchard of the convent at the back is where 
 the Lieutenant Don Miguel Gila died. There 
 are at the least two hundred bodies in that 
 orchard ; and there Don Felipe San Clement, a 
 merchant of Saragossa, broke both his legs. 
 Indeed, if Don Miguel Salamero had not 
 been present — don't you know anything 
 about that ? " 
 
 " No, sir, my friend," said Don Roque ; " we 
 don't know anything about it, and although we 
 have the greatest pleasure in your telling us of 
 so many wonders, what most concerns us now 
 is to find out where we are going to find my 
 old friend Don Jose. We four are suffering 
 from a disease called hunger, which cannot be 
 cured by listening to the recounting of sub- 
 limities." 
 
 "Well, now, in a minute I will take you 
 
 I [ 
 
Saragossa 
 
 where you want to go," replied (Sursum Corda, 
 offering us a part of his crust;""" but first I 
 will tell you something, and that is that 
 if Don Mariano Cereso had not defended 
 the Castle Aljaferia as he did defend it, noth- 
 ing would have been done in the Portillo 
 quarter. And this man, by the grace of God, 
 this man was Don Mariano Cereso ! Dur- 
 ing the attack of the fourth of August, he 
 used to walk in the streets with his sword 
 in its antique sheath. It would terrify you 
 to see him ! This Santa Engracia quarter 
 seemed like a furnace, senors. The bombs 
 and the hand-grenades rained down ; but the 
 patriots did not mind them airyjnpre than so 
 man^Idtops of water. A good part of the 
 convent fell down ; the houses trembled, and 
 all this that we see seemed no more than a bar- 
 rier of playing cards, by the way it caught fire 
 and crumbled away. Fire in the windows, fire 
 at the top, fire at the base ! The French fell 
 like flies, fell like flies, gentlemen. *v_And as for 
 the Saragossans, life and death were all the 
 same to them. Don Antonio Quadros went 
 through there, and when he looked at the 
 French batteries, he was in a state to swallow 
 them whole. The bandits had sixty cannon 
 vomiting fire against the walls. You did not 
 
 12 
 
Saragossa 
 
 see it ? Well, I saw it, and the pieces of brick 
 of the wall and the earth of the parapets scat- 
 tered like crumbs of a loaf. But the dead 
 served as a barricade, — the dead on top, the 
 dead below, a perfect mountain of the dead. 
 Don Antonio's eyes shot flame. The boys fired 
 without stopping. Their souls were all made 
 of bullets ! Did n't you see it ? Well, I did, 
 and the French batteries were all cleaned out 
 of gunners. When he saw one of the enemy's 
 cannon was without men, the commander 
 shouted, ' An epaulet to the man who spikes 
 that cannon ! ' Pepillo Ruiz started and 
 walked up to it as if he was promenading in a 
 garden among butterflies and may flowers, only 
 here the butterflies were bullets, and the flow- 
 ers were bombs. Pepillo Ruiz spiked the 
 cannon, and came back laughing. And now 
 another part of the convent was falling down. 
 Whoever was smashed by it, remained smashed! 
 Don Antonio Quadros said that that did not 
 bother him any, and seeing that the enemy's bat- 
 teries had opened a large hole in the wall, went 
 to stuff it full of bags of wool. Then a bullet 
 struck him in the head. They brought him 
 here ; he said that was nothing either, and died." 
 "Oh," said Don Roque, impatiently, "we 
 are sufficiently astonished, Senor Sursum Corda, 
 
 13 
 
Saragossa 
 
 and the most pure patriotism inflames us to hear 
 you relate such great deeds ; but if you could 
 only make up your mind to tell us where — " 
 " Good Lord ! " exclaimed the beggar, 
 " who said I would n't tell you ? If there is 
 any one thing I know better than another, 
 and have seen most of anything in my life, it 
 is the house of Don Jose de Montoria. It 
 is near the San Pablo. Oh, you did not see 
 the hospital? Well, I saw it. There the 
 bombs fell like hail ; the sick, seeing that the 
 roofs were falling down, threw themselves from 
 the windows into the street. Others crawled 
 or rolled down the stairs. The partitions 
 burned, and you could hear wailings. The 
 lunatics bellowed in their cages like mad beasts. 
 Many of them escaped and went through the 
 cloisters, laughing and dancing with a thousand 
 fantastic gestures that were frightful to see. 
 They came out into the street as on carnival 
 day ; and one climbed the cross in the Coso, 
 where he began a harangue, saying that he was 
 the River Ebro, and he would run over the 
 city and put out the fire. The women ran to 
 care for the sick, who were all carried off to 
 Del Pilar and to La Seo. You could not get 
 through the streets. Signals were given from 
 the Torre Nueva whenever a bomb was com- 
 
 14 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ing, but the uproar of the people prevented 
 their hearing the bells. The French advanced 
 by this street of Santa Engracia. They took 
 possession of the hospital and of the Convent 
 of San Francisco. The fighting began in the 
 quarter of the Coso, and in the streets there- 
 abouts. Don Santiago Sas, Don Mariano 
 CeresOj Don Lorenzo Calvo, Don Marcos 
 Simono, Renovales, Martin Albantos, Vicente 
 Code, Don Vicente Marraco, and others fear- 
 lessly attacked the French. And behind a 
 barricade made by herself^ awaited them, 
 furious, gun in hand, the Countess de Bureta.T"" 
 
 " What a woman, a countess, making barri- 
 cades and firing guns ! " cried Don Roque, 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 "You did not know it?" he returned. 
 " Well, where do you live ? The Senora 
 Maria Consolacion Azlor y Villavicencio, who 
 lives near the Ecce Homo, also walked through 
 the streets, saying words of good cheer to 
 those who were discouraged. Afterwards she 
 made them close the entrance to the street, 
 and herself took the lead of a party of peas- 
 ants, crying, ' Here we will all die before we 
 will let them pass ! * " 
 
 " Oh, what sublime heroism ! " exclaimed 
 Don Roque, yawning with hunger. " How 
 
 15 
 
Saragossa 
 
 much I should enjoy hearing those tales of 
 heroism told on a full stomach ! So you say 
 that the house of Don Jose is to be found — " 
 
 " It is just around there," said the cripple. 
 " You know already that the French had en- 
 tangled themselves and stuck fast near the 
 Arch of Cineja. Holy Virgin del Pilar, but 
 that was where they killed off the French! 
 The rest of the day was nothing beside it. 
 In the Calle de la Parra and the Square of 
 Estrevedes, in the Calles de los Urreas, Santa 
 Fe, and Del Azoque, the peasants cut the 
 French to pieces. The cannonading and the 
 roar of that day still ring in my ears. The 
 French burned down the houses that they could 
 not defend, and the Saragossans did the same. 
 There was firing on every side. Men, women, 
 and children, — it was enough to have two 
 hands to fight against the enemy. And you 
 did not see it ? You really have seen nothing 
 at all ! Well, as I was saying, Palafox came 
 out of Saragossa towards — " 
 
 " That 's enough, my friend," said Don 
 
 Roque, losing patience. " We are charmed 
 
 with your conversation ; but if you can take 
 
 us this instant to the house of my friend, or 
 
 direct us so that we can find it, we will go 
 
 along." 
 
 i6 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " In a minute, gentlemen. Don't hurry," 
 replied Sursum Corda, starting off in advance 
 with all the agility of which his crutches were 
 capable. " Let us go there. Let us go, with 
 all my heart. Do you see this house ? Well, 
 here lives Antonio Laste, first sergeant of the 
 Fourth Company of Regulars, and you must 
 know he saved from the treasury sixteen thou- 
 sand, four hundred pesos, and took from the 
 French the candles that they stole from the 
 church." 
 
 " Go on ahead, go on, friend," I said, see- 
 ing that this indefatigable talker intended 
 stopping to give all the details of the heroism 
 of Antonio Laste. 
 
 " We shall arrive soon," replied Sursum ; 
 " on the morning of the first of July I was 
 going past here, when I encountered Hilario 
 Lafuente, first corporal of fusileers of the 
 Parish of Sas, and he said to me, ' To-day 
 they are going to attack the Portillo ; ' then I 
 went to see what there was to see and — " 
 
 " We know all about this, already," said 
 Don Roque. " Let us go on fast. We can 
 talk afterwards." 
 
 " This house which you see here burned 
 down and in ruins," continued the cripple, 
 going around a corner, " is the one that 
 
 2 17 
 
Saragossa 
 
 burned on the fourth, when Don Francisco 
 IpaSj sub-Heutenant of the Second Company 
 of fusileers of the parish of San Pablo, stood 
 here with a cannon, and these — " 
 
 " We know the rest, my good man," said 
 Don Roque. " Forward, march ! and the 
 faster the better." 
 
 " But much better was what Code did, the 
 farmer of the parish of La Magdalena, with 
 the cannon of the Calle de la Parra," persisted 
 the beggar, stopping once more. " When he 
 was going to fire the gun, the French sur- 
 rounded him, everybody ran away ; but Code 
 got under the cannon, and the French passed 
 by without seeing him. Afterwards, helped by 
 an old woman who brought him some rope, he 
 pulled that big piece of artillery as far as the 
 entrance of the street. Come, I will show 
 you ! 
 
 " No, no, we don*t want to see a thing. 
 Go along ahead." 
 
 We kept at him, and closed our ears to 
 his tales with so much obstinacy, that at last, 
 although very slowly, he took us through 
 the Coso and the Market to the Calle de la 
 Hilarza, the street wherein stood the house of 
 the person whom we were seeking. 
 
 i8 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BUT, alas ! Don Jose de Montoria was not 
 in his house, and we found it necessary 
 to go a Httle way out of the city to look for 
 him. Two of my companions, tired of so 
 much going and coming, left us with the idea 
 of trying on their own account for some mili- 
 tary or civil situation. Don Roque and 
 myself therefore started with less embarrass- 
 ment on our trip to the country house, the 
 "torre," of our friend. (They call country 
 houses torres at Saragossa.) This was situ- 
 ated to the westward of the town ; the place 
 bordered on the Muella road, and was at 
 a short distance from the Bernardona road. 
 Such a long tramp was not at all the right 
 thing for our tired bodies, but necessity 
 obliged us to take this inopportune exercise. 
 We were very well treated when we at last 
 met the longed-for Saragossan and became 
 the objects of his cordial hospitality. 
 
 Montoria was occupied, when we arrived, in 
 cutting down olive-trees on his place, a pro- 
 ceeding demanded by the military exigencies 
 
 19 
 
Saragossa 
 
 of the plan of defence established by the offi- 
 cers in the field, because of the possibility of 
 a second siege. And it was not our friend 
 alone who destroyed with his own hands this 
 heritage of his hacienda. All the proprietors 
 of the surrounding places occupied themselves 
 with the same task, and they directed the 
 work of devastation with as much coolness 
 as if they were watering or replanting, or 
 busy with the grape harvest. 
 
 Montoria said to us, "In the first siege I 
 cut down my trees on my property on the 
 other side of the Huerva; but this second 
 siege that is being prepared for us is going to 
 be much more terrible, to judge by the great 
 number of troops that the French are 
 sending." 
 
 We told him the story of the su rrend er 
 of Madr id, and as this seemed to depress 
 him very much, we praised the deeds done 
 at Saragossa between the fifteenth of June 
 and the fourteenth of August with all sorts of 
 grandiloquent phrases. Shrugging his shoul- 
 ders, Don Jose said, "All that was possible to 
 be done was done." 
 
 At this point Don Roque began to make 
 personal eulogies of me, both military and 
 civil, and he overdrew the picture so much 
 
 20 
 
Saragossa 
 
 that he made me blush, particularly as some 
 of his announcements were stupendous lies. 
 He said, first, that I belonged to one of the 
 highest families of lower Andalusia, and 
 that I was present as one of the marine 
 guards at the glorious battle of Trafalgar. 
 He said that the junta had made me a great 
 offer of a concession in Peru, and that dur- 
 ing the siege of Madrid I had performed 
 prodigies of valor at the Puerta de los 
 Pozos, my courage being so great that the 
 French found it convenient after the capitula- 
 tion to rid themselves of such a fearful foe, 
 sending me with other Spanish patriots to 
 France. He added that my ingenuity had 
 made possible the escape of us four compan- 
 ions who had taken refuge in Saragossa, and 
 ended his panegyric by assuring Don Jose 
 that for my personal qualities also I deserved 
 distinguished consideration. 
 
 Meantime Montoria surveyed me from 
 head to foot, and if he observed the bad 
 cut of my clothes and their many rents, he 
 must also have seen that they were of the 
 kind used by a man of quality, revealing his 
 fine, courtly, and aristocratic origin by the 
 multiplicity of their imperfections. After he 
 had looked me over, he said to me, " Porra ! 
 
 
 21 
 
Saragossa 
 
 I shall not be able to enlist you in the third 
 rank of the company of fusileers of Don San- 
 tiago Sas, of which I am captain, but you can 
 enter the corps where my son is ; and if you 
 don't wish to, you must leave Saragossa, be- 
 cause here we have no use for lazy men. And 
 as for you, Don Roque, my friend, since you 
 are not able to carry a gun, porra ! we will 
 make you one of the attendants in the army 
 hospital." 
 
 When Don Roque had heard all this, he 
 managed to express, by means of rhetorical cir- 
 cumlocution and graceful ellipses, the great 
 necessity of a piece of meat for each one of us, 
 and a couple of loaves of bread apiece. Then 
 we saw the great Montoria scowl, looking at 
 us so severely that he made us tremble, fearing 
 that we were to be sent away for daring to ask 
 for something to eat. \Ve murmured timid 
 excuses, and then our protector, very red in the 
 face, spoke as follows, — 
 
 "Is it possible that you are hungry? Porra! 
 Go to the devil with a hundred thousand porras ! 
 Why have n't you said so before ? Do I look 
 like a man capable of letting my friends go hun- 
 gry ? porra ! You must know that I always have 
 a dozen hams hanging from the beams of my 
 storeroom, and I have twenty casks of Rioja, 
 
 22 
 
Saragossa 
 
 yes, sir. And you are hungry, and you did not 
 tell me so to my face without any round-about 
 fuss ? That is an offence to a man like me. 
 There, boys, go in and order them to cook 
 four pounds of beef and six dozen eggs, and to 
 kill six pullets, and bring from the wine-cellar 
 seven jugs of wine. I want my breakfast, too. 
 Let the neighbors come, the workmen, and my 
 sons too, if they are anywhere about. And 
 you, gentlemen, be prepared to punish it all 
 with my compliments, porra ! You will eat 
 what there is without thanking me. We do 
 not use compliments here. You, Senor Don 
 Roque, and you, Seiior Don Araceli, are in your 
 own house to-day, porra ! to-morrow and al- 
 ways, porra ! Don Jose de Montoria is a true 
 friend to his friends. All that he has, all that 
 he owns, belongs to his friends." 
 
 The brusq ue hos pitality of the worthy man 
 astonished usT As he did not receive our 
 compliments with good grace, we decided to 
 leave aside the artificial formalities of the court, 
 and, assuredly, the most primitive fashions 
 reigned during the breakfast. 
 
 " Why don't you eat more ? " Don Jose 
 asked me. " It seems to me that you are one 
 of these compliment-makers who expect to live 
 on compliments. I don't like that sort of 
 
 23 
 
Saragossa 
 
 thing, my young gentleman. I find it very 
 trying, and I am going to beat you with a stick 
 to make you eat. There, despatch this glass 
 of wine ! Did you find any better at court ? 
 Not by a long way. Come now, drink, porra ! 
 or we shall come to blows." All this made 
 me eat and drink more than was good for me ; 
 but it was necessary to respond to the generous 
 cordiality of Montoria, and too it was not 
 worth while to lose his good will for one in- 
 digestion more or less. 
 
 After the breakfast, the work of cutting 
 down trees was continued, and the rich farmer 
 directed it as if it were a festival performance. 
 
 " We will see," he said, " if this time they 
 will dare to attack the Castle. Have you not 
 seen the works that we have built ? They will 
 find it a very complicated task to take them. 
 I have just given two hundred bales of wool, a 
 mere nothing, and I would give my last crust." 
 
 When we returned to the town, Montoria 
 took us to look over the defensive works that 
 were built in the western part of the city. 
 There was in the Portillo gate a large semi-cir- 
 cular battery that joined the walls of the Con- 
 vent de los Fecetas with those of the Augustine 
 friars* convent. From this building to the Con- 
 vent of the Trinitarios extended a straight wall, 
 
 24 
 
Saragossa 
 
 with battlements along all its length and with 
 a good pathway in the centre. This was 
 protected by a deep moat that reached to the 
 famous field of Las Eras, scene of the he- 
 roic deeds of the fifteenth of June. Further 
 north, towards the Puerta Sancho, which pro- 
 tected the breastworks of the Ebro, the for- 
 tifications continued, terminated by a tower. 
 All these works, constructed in haste, though 
 intelligently, were not distinguished by their 
 solidity. Any one of the enemy's generals, 
 ignorant of the events of the first siege, and of 
 the immense moral force of the Saragossans, 
 would have laughed at those piles of earth as 
 fortifications offering material for an easy siege. 
 But God ordains that somebody must escape 
 once in a while the physical laws that rule war. 
 Saragossa, compared with Amberes, Dantzig, 
 Metz, Sebastopol, Cartagena, Gibraltar, and 
 other famous strongholds, was like a fortress 
 made of cardboard. 
 And yet — ! 
 
 25 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 EFORE we left his house, Montoria be- 
 came vexed at Don Roque and me be- 
 cause we would not take the money that he 
 offered us for our first expenses in the city ; 
 then were repeated the blows on the table, 
 and the rains of " porras " and other words that 
 I will not repeat. But at last we arrived at an 
 arrangement honorable for both parties. 
 
 And now I begin to think I am saying too 
 much about this singular man before I describe 
 his personality. Don Jose was a man of 
 about sixty years of age, strong, high-colored, 
 of over-flowing health, well placed in the world, 
 contented with himself, fulfilling his destiny 
 with a quiet conscience. His was an excess 
 of patriotic virtues and of exemplary customs, 
 if there can be an excess of such things. He 
 was lacking in education, that is to say, in the 
 finer and more distinguished training which 
 in that time some of the sons of such families 
 as his were beginning to receive. Don Jose 
 was not acquainted with the superficialities of 
 etiquette, and by character and custom was 
 
 26 
 
Saragossa 
 
 opposed to the amenities and the white lies 
 which are a part of the foundations of courtesy. 
 As he always wore his heart upon his sleeve, 
 he wished everybody to do the same, and his 
 savage goodness tolerated none of the frequent 
 evasions of polite conversation. In angry mo- 
 ments he was impetuous, and let himself be 
 carried to violent extremes, of which he always 
 repented later. /He never dissimulated, and 
 had the great Christian virtues in a crude form 
 and without polish, like a massive piece of the 
 most beautiful marble where the chisel has 
 traced no lines. It was necessary to know 
 him to understand him, making allowances for 
 his eccentricities, although to be sure he should 
 scarcelv be called eccentric, when he was so 
 much like the majority of the men of his 
 province. 
 
 His aim was never to hide what he felt ; and 
 if this occasionally caused him some trouble in 
 the course of life in regard to questions of little 
 moment, it was a quality which always proved 
 an inestimable treasure in any grave matter, 
 because, with his soul wholly on view, it was 
 impossible to suspect any malice or any double 
 dealing whatever. He readily pardoned offend- 
 ers, obliged those who sought favors, and gave 
 a large part of his numerous goods to those 
 
 27 
 
Saragossa 
 
 In need. He dressed neatly, ate abundantly, 
 fasted with much scrupulousness during Lent, 
 and loved the Virgin del Pilar with a fanatical 
 sort of family affection. 
 
 His language was not, as we have shown, a 
 model of elegance, and he himself confessed, as 
 the greatest of his defects, the habit of saying 
 porra every minute, and again, porra ! without 
 the slightest necessity. But more than once I 
 heard him say, knowing his fault, he had not 
 been able to correct it, for the porras came out 
 of his mouth without his knowing it. 
 
 Don Jose had a wife and three children. 
 She was Dona Leocadia Sarriera, by birth a 
 Navarraise. The eldest son and the daughter 
 were married, and had given grandchildren to 
 the old man. The younger son was called 
 Augustine, and was destined for the church, 
 like his uncle of the same name, the Arch- 
 deacon of La Seo. I made the acquaintance 
 of all these on the same day, and found them 
 the best people in the world. I was treated 
 with so much kindness that I was overwhelmed 
 by their generosity. If they had known me 
 since my birth, they could not have been more 
 cordial. Their kindness, springing spontane- 
 ously from their generous hearts, touched my 
 very soul ; and as I have always had a faculty 
 
 28 
 
Saragossa 
 
 for letting people love me, I responded from 
 the first with a very sincere affection. 
 
 " Senor Don Roque/' I said that night to 
 my friend as we were going to bed in the room 
 which was given us, " I have never seen people 
 like these. Is everybody in Aragon like 
 this ? " 
 
 •^ " There are all kinds," he answered ; " but 
 men made of stuff like Don Jose and his family 
 -are plentiful in this land of Aragon." 
 
 Next day we occupied ourselves with my 
 enlistment. The spirit of the men who were 
 enlisting filled me with such enthusiasm that 
 nothing seemed to me so noble as to follow 
 glory, even afar off. Everybody knows that in 
 those days Saragossa and the Saragossans had 
 obtained a fabulous renown, that their heroism 
 stimulated the imagination. Everything re- 
 ferring to the famous siege of the immortal 
 city partook on the lips of narrators of the 
 proportions and colors of the heroic age. With 
 distance, the actions of the Saragossans acquired 
 great dimensions. In England and Germany, 
 where they were considered the Numantines of 
 modern times, those half-naked peasants, with 
 rope sandals on their feet and the bright Sara- 
 gossan kerchief on their heads, became like 
 figures of mythology. 
 
 29 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Surrender, and we will give you clothes," 
 said the French in the first siege, admiring the 
 constancy of a few poor countrymen dressed in 
 rags. 
 
 " We do not know how to surrender^' they 
 made answer ; " and our bodies shall he clothed 
 with glory '^ 
 
 The fame of this and other phrases has gone 
 round the world. 
 
 But let us go back to my enlistment. There 
 was an obstacle in the way, Palafox's manifesto 
 of the thirteenth of December, in which he 
 ordered the expulsion of all strangers within a 
 period of twenty-four hours. This measure 
 was taken on account of the numbers of people 
 who made trouble, and stirred up discord and 
 disorder; but just at the time of my arrival 
 another order was given out, calling for all the 
 scattered soldiers of the Army of the Centre 
 which had been dispersed at Tudela, and so I 
 found a chance to enlist. Although I did not 
 belong to that army, I had taken a place in the 
 defence of Madrid and the battle of Bailen. 
 VThese were reasons which, with the help of my 
 protector Montoria,, served me in entering the 
 Saragossan forces. '^^They gave me a place in 
 the battalion of volunteers of the Penas of San 
 Pedroy^ which had been badly weakened in the 
 ^ 30 
 
Saragossa 
 
 first siege, and I received a uniform and a gun. 
 I did not enter the lines, as my protector had 
 said, in the company of the clergyman of San- 
 tiago Sas, because this valiant company was 
 composed exclusively of residents of the 
 parish of San Pablo. They did not want any 
 young men in their battalion ; for this reason 
 Augustine Montoria himself, Don Jose's son, 
 could not serve under the Sas banner, and 
 enlisted like myself in the battalion of Las 
 Penas de San Pedro. Good luck bestowed 
 upon me a good companion and an excellent 
 friend. 
 
 From the day of my arrival I had heard 
 talk of the approach of the French army ; but 
 it was not an incontrovertible fact until the 
 twentieth. In the afternoon a division arrived 
 at Zuera, on the left bank of the river, to 
 threaten the suburb ; another, commanded by 
 Suchet, encamped on the right above San 
 Lamberto. Marshal Moncey, who was the 
 general in command, placed himself, with three 
 divisions, near the canal, and on both sides 
 of the Huerva. Forty thousand men be- 
 sieged us.. 
 
 It is known that the French, impatient to 
 defeat us, began operations early on the twenty- 
 first, attacking simultaneously and with great 
 
 31 
 
Saragossa 
 
 vigor Monte Torrero, and the Arrabal, the 
 suburb on the left of the Ebro, points without | 
 whose possession it was impossible to dream of 
 conquering the valiant city. But if we were 
 obliged to abandon Torrero on account of the 
 danger of its defence, Saragossa displayed in | 
 the suburb such audacious courage that that 
 day is known as one of the most brilliant of 
 all her brilliant history. 
 
 From four o'clock, from day-dawn, the bat- 
 talion of Las Penas de San Pedro guarded 
 the front of the fortifications, from Santa 
 Engracia to the Convent of Trinitarios, a line 
 which seemed the least exposed in all the cir- 
 cuit of the city. Behind Santa Engracia was 
 established the battery of Los Martires ; from 
 there ran the battlements of the wall as far as 
 the Huerva bridge, defended by a barricade ; 
 it deflected afterwards towards the west, mak- 
 ing an obtuse angle, and joining another re- 
 doubt built in the Torre del Pino ; it continued 
 in a straight line as far as the Convent of 
 Trinitarios, and enclosed the Puerta del 
 Carmen. 
 
 Whoever has seen Saragossa can well under- 
 stand my imperfect description, for the ruins 
 of Santa Engracia still remain, and in the 
 Puerta del Carmen may still be seen, not far 
 
 32 
 
Saragossa 
 
 from the Glorieta, its ruined architrave and 
 worm-eaten stones. 
 
 We were, as I have said, occupying the 
 position described, and part of the soldiers had 
 a bivouac in a neighboring orchard, next to 
 the Carmen college. 
 
 • Augustine Montoria and I were inseparable. 
 His serene character, the affection he showed 
 me from the moment we met, and the inex- 
 plicable concord in our thoughts, made his 
 company very agreeable. He was a young 
 man of beautiful figure, with large brilliant 
 eyes and open brow, and an expression marked 
 by a melancholy gravity. His heart, like that 
 of his father, was filled by generosity which 
 overflowed at the least impulse ; but he was 
 not likely to wound the feelings of a friend, 
 because education had taken from him a great 
 deal of the national brusqueness. Augustine 
 entered manhood's estate with the security of 
 a kind heart, firm and uncorrupted judgment, 
 with a vigorous and healthy soul ; the vs^ide 
 world only was the limit of his boundless 
 goodness. These qualities were enriched by 
 a brilliant imagination of sure and direct action, 
 not like that of our modern geniuses, who most 
 of the time do not know what they are about. 
 Augustine's imagination was lofty and serene, 
 3 33 
 
Saragossa 
 
 worthy of his education in the great classics. 
 Although with a lively inclination to poetry, 
 — for Augustine was a poet, — he had learned 
 theology, showing ability in this as in every- 
 thing. The fathers at the Seminary, who were 
 fond of the youth, looked upon him as a 
 prodigy in the sciences, human and divine, 
 and they congratulated themselves on seeing 
 him with one foot at least over the threshold 
 of the Church. 
 
 The Montoria family had many a pleasant 
 anticipation of the day when Augustine would 
 say his first mass, as a holy event that was 
 fast approaching. Yet, — I am obliged to say 
 it, — Augustine had no vocation for the 
 Church. Neither his family nor the good 
 fathers of the Seminary understood this, nor 
 would they have understood it, even if the 
 Holy Spirit had come down in person to tell 
 them. This precocious theologian, this hu- 
 manist who had Horace at the ends of his 
 fingers, this dialectician who in the weekly 
 discussions astonished the fathers with intel- 
 lectual gymnastics of scholastic science, had no 
 more vocation for the Church than Mozart 
 for war, Raphael for mathematics, or Napo- 
 leon for dancing ! 
 
 34 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 "^^ ABRIELj" he said to me one morning, 
 VJT " dost thou not feel Hke smashing 
 something ? " 
 
 "Augustine, dost thou not feel like smash- 
 ing something ? " I responded. It will be 
 seen that we were " thee-ing " and " thou-ing " 
 each other after three days' acquaintance. 
 
 " Not very much," he said, " suppose the 
 first ball strikes us dead ! " 
 
 " We shall die for our country, for Saragossa ; 
 and although posterity will not remember us, 
 it is always an honor to fall on the field of 
 battle for a cause like this." 
 
 " You are right," he answered sadly ; " but 
 it is a pity to die. We are young. Who 
 knows for what we are destined in life ? " 
 
 " Life is a trifle, and its importance is not 
 worth thinking of." 
 
 " That is for the aged to say, but not us 
 who are just beginning to live. Frankly, I 
 do not wish to die in this terrible circle which 
 the French have drawn about us. In the 
 
 35 
 
Saragossa 
 
 other siege, however, all the students of the 
 Seminary took arms, and I confess that I was 
 more valiant then than now. A peculiar zeal 
 filled my blood, and I threw myself into 
 places of greatest danger without fear of death. 
 To-day does not find me the same. I am 
 timid and afraid, and when a gun goes off, it 
 makes me tremble." 
 
 " That is natural. Fear does not exist when 
 one does not realize the danger. As far as 
 that is concerned, they say the most valiant 
 soldiers are the raw recruits." 
 
 " There is nothing in that. Indeed, Gabriel, 
 I confess that the mere question of dying does 
 not strike me as the greatest evil. But if I 
 die, I am going to entrust you with a com- 
 mission which I hope you will fulfil carefully 
 like a good friend. Listen well to what I tell 
 you. You see that tower that leans this way, 
 as if to see what is passing here, or hear what 
 we are saying ? " 
 
 " The Torre Nueva? I see it. What charge 
 are you going to give me for that lady ? " 
 
 Day was breaking, and between the irregu- 
 lar-tiled roofs of the city, between the spires 
 and minarets, the balconies and the cupolas 
 of the churches, the Torre Nueva, old and 
 unfinished, stood out distinctly. 
 
 3^ 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Listen well ! " said Augustine. " If I am 
 killed with the first shot on this day which is 
 now dawning, when the battle is ended, and 
 they break ranks, you must go there." 
 
 " To the Torre Nueva ? Behold me ! I 
 arrive. I enter ! '* 
 
 " No, man, not enter. Listen, I will tell 
 you. You arrive at the Plaza de San Felipe 
 where the tower is. Look yonder ! Do you 
 see there near the great pile there is another 
 tower, a little belfry ? It seems like an acolyte 
 before his lord the canon, which is the great 
 tower." 
 
 " Yes, now I see the altar-boy. And if 1 
 am not mistaken, it is the belfry of San Felipe. 
 And the damned thing is ringing this minute 1 " 
 
 " For mass, it is ringing for mass," said 
 Augustine, with great emotion. " Do you 
 not hear the cracked bell ? " 
 
 " Very plainly. Let us know what I have 
 to say to this Mr. Altar-boy who is ringing 
 the cracked bell." 
 
 " No, no, it is nothing about him. You 
 arrive at the Plaza of San Felipe. If you 
 look at the belfry, you will see it is on a corner, 
 and from this corner runs a narrow street. 
 You enter there, and at the left you will find 
 at a little distance another street, narrow and 
 
 37 
 
Saragossa 
 
 retired, called Anton Trillo. You follow this 
 until you reach the back of the church. There 
 you will see a house. You stop there — " 
 " And then I come back again ? " 
 " No ; close to the house there is a garden, 
 with a little gateway painted the color of choc- 
 olate. You stop there." 
 
 " There I stop, and there I am ! " 
 " No, old man. You will see — " 
 " You *re whiter than your shirt, my Au- 
 gustine. What do all these towers and stop- 
 pages signify ? " 
 
 " They mean," continued my friend, with 
 increasing embarrassment, " that in a little 
 while you will be there. I desire you to go 
 by night. All right, you arrive there. You 
 stop. You wait a little, then you pass to the 
 opposite sidewalk. You stretch your neck, 
 and you will see a window over the wall of a 
 garden. You pick up a pebble and throw 
 it against the panes of glass lightly, to do little 
 damage." 
 
 " And in a second she will come ! " 
 " No ; have patience. How do you know 
 whether she will come or not come P " 
 " Well, let us suppose that she comes." 
 " Before I tell you another thing, you must 
 understand that it is there the goodman Can- 
 
 38 
 
Saragossa 
 
 diola lives. Do you know who Candlola is ? 
 Well, he is a citizen of Saragossa, a man who, 
 as they say, has in his house a cellar full of 
 money. He is avaricious and a usurer, and 
 when he lends he guts his customers. He 
 knows more about debtors, laws, and fore- ■% 
 closures than the whole court and council of / 
 Castile. Whoever goes to law with him is / 
 lost." ^ 
 
 " From all this, the house with a gate painted 
 chocolate color should be a magnificent palace." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort. You will see a 
 wretched-looking house that seems about to ^ 
 fall down. I tell you that that goodman Can- 
 diola is a miser. He does not waste a real that 
 he can help. And if you should see him about 
 here you would give him alms. I will tell 
 you another thing ; he is never seen in Sara- 
 gossa, and they call him goodman Candiola in 
 mockery and contenmt. /--His name is Don 
 Jeronimo de Candiola ;[ he is a native of Mal- 
 lorca, if I am not mistafcen.'* 
 
 " And this Candiola has a daughter ? " 
 
 " Wait, man, how impatient you are ! How 
 do you know whether or not he has a daugh- 
 ter ? " he answered, hiding his agitation by 
 these evasions. " Well, as I was just going 
 to tell you, Candiola is detested in the city 
 
 39 
 
Saragossa 
 
 for his great avarice and wicked heart. Many 
 poor men has he put in prison after ruin- 
 ing them. Worse still, during the other siege 
 he did not give a farthing for the war, nor take 
 up arms, nor receive the wounded into his house, 
 nor could they wring a peseta from him ; and, 
 as he said one day it was all one to him whether 
 he gave to John or to Peter, he was on the 
 point of being arrested." 
 
 " Well, he is a pretty piece, this man of the 
 house of the garden of the chocolate-colored 
 gate ! And what if when the pebble strikes 
 the window, goodman Candiola comes out with 
 a cudgel and gives me a good beating for 
 flirting with his daughter ? " 
 
 " Don*t be an idiot ! Hush ! You must 
 know that as soon as it gets dark, Candiola 
 shuts himself in an underground room, and 
 there he stays counting his money until after 
 midnight. Bah ! He is well occupied now. 
 The neighbors -say they hear a muffled sound 
 as if bags of coins were being tumbled out." 
 
 " Very well. I arrive there. I throw the 
 stone. She comes, and I tell her — " 
 
 f'You tell her that I am dead. No, don't 
 be cruel ; give her this amulet. No, tell her 
 — no, it will be better to tell her nothing." 
 
 " Then I will give her the amulet ? " 
 
 40 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " By no means. Do not take the amulet to 
 her." 
 
 " Now, now I understand. As soon as she 
 comes I am to say good-night and march 
 myself away singing, ' The Virgin del Pilar 
 says — 
 
 " No, it is enough that she learns of my 
 death. You must do as I tell you." 
 " But if you don't tell me anything." 
 " How hasty you are ! Wait. Perhaps 
 they '11 not kill me to-day." 
 
 "True. And what a bother about nothing!" 
 " There is one thing which I have left out, / 
 
 Gabriel, and I shall tell it to you frankly. I f^U&OL^i * 
 have had many, very many great desires to 
 confide to you this secret which weighs upon 
 my breast. To whom could I tell it but to 
 you, my friend? If I did not tell you, my 
 heart would break like a pomegranate. I 
 have been greatly afraid of telling it at night 
 in my dreams. Because of this fear I cannot ' 
 sleep. If my father, my mother, my brother, 
 suspected it, they would kill me." ^ 
 
 "And the fathers at the Seminary ? " 
 " Don't name the fathers. You shall see. 
 I will tell you what has befallen me. Do you 
 know Father Rincon ? Well, Father Rincon 
 loves me very much, and every evening he 
 
 41 
 
Saragossa 
 
 used to make me come out for a walk by 
 the river or towards Torrero or the Juslibol 
 road. We would talk of theology and litera- 
 ture. Rincon is so enthusiastic about the 
 great poet Horace that he used to say, * It 
 is a pity that that man was n't a Christian 
 so that he could be canonized.' He always 
 carries with him a little Elzevir, which he 
 loves more than the apple of his eye. When 
 we were tired walking, he would sit down and 
 read, and between the two of us we would 
 make whatever comments occurred to us. 
 Well, now I will tell you that Father Rincon 
 was a kinsman of Dona Maria Rincon, the 
 deceased wife of Candiola, who has a little 
 property in the Monzalbarba road, with a 
 wretched little country house, more like a 
 hut than a house, but embowered in leafy 
 trees, and with delightful views of the Ebro, 
 One afternoon, after we had been reading the 
 ^is mult a gracilis te puer in rosa, my teacher 
 desired to visit his relative. We went there ; 
 we entered the garden, and Candiola was not 
 there ; but his daughter came to meet us, 
 and Rincon said to her, ' Mariquilla, get 
 some peaches for this young man, and get 
 me a glass of you know what.* " 
 "And is Mariquilla nice?" 
 
 42 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Don't ask that. What if she is nice ? 
 You shall see. Father Rincon stroked his 
 beard, and turning towards me said, ^Augus- 
 tine, confess that in your lifetime you have 
 never seen a more perfect face than this one. 
 Look at those eyes of fire, that angel's mouth, 
 and that bit of heaven for a brow.' I was 
 trembling, and Mariquilla laughed, her face 
 all rosy red. Then Rincon continued, say- 
 ing, ' To you, who are a future father of the 
 church, an example, a young pattern, without 
 other passion than that for books, this divin- 
 ity may show herself. Jove ! admire here the 
 admirable work of the Supreme Creator. Ob- 
 serve the expression of that face, the sweetness 
 of those glances, the grace of that smile, the 
 freshness, the delicacy of that complexion, the 
 fineness of that skin, and confess that if heaven 
 is beautiful, flowers, mountains, light, all the 
 creations of God are nothing beside woman, 
 the most perfect and finished work of the 
 immortal hand.' Thus spoke my teacher, 
 and I, mute and astonished, did not cease to 
 contemplate that master work which was cer- 
 tainly better than the ^neid. I cannot tell 
 you what I felt. Imagine the Ebro, that great 
 river, which descends from its springs to give 
 itself to the sea, all at once changing its 
 
 43 
 
Saragossa 
 
 channel and trying to run upward, returning 
 to the Asturias. The same thing took place 
 in my spirit. I myself was astonished that 
 all my ideas had been changed from their 
 wonted course and turned backward, cutting 
 I know not what new channels. I assure 
 you I was astonished, and I am yet. Look- 
 ing at her without satisfying the longing of 
 my soul or of my eyes, I said to myself, ' I 
 love her in a wonderful way ! How is it that 
 until now I have never fallen in love ? ' I had 
 never seen Mariquilla until that moment.'* 
 
 "And the peaches ? " 
 
 " Mariquilla was as much disturbed before 
 me as I before her. Father Rincon went to 
 talk with the gardener about the encroach- 
 ments that the French had made upon the 
 property (that was soon after the first of 
 September, a month after the raising of the 
 first siege), and Mariquilla and I remained 
 alone. Alone ! My first impulse was to cut 
 and run ; and she, as she has told me, also 
 felt the same. Neither she nor I ran. We 
 stayed there. All at once I felt an extraordi- 
 nary movement of my intellect. Breaking the 
 silence, I began to talk with her. We talked 
 about all sorts of indifferent things at first, but 
 to me came thoughts beyond my usual under- 
 
 44 
 
Saragossa 
 
 standing, surpassing the ordinary, and all, all, 
 all, I uttered. Mariquilla answered me little, 
 but her eyes were only more eloquent than 
 when I was talking to her. At last Father 
 Rincon called, and we marched away. I took 
 leave of her, and in a low voice said that we 
 would soon meet again. We returned to Sara- 
 gossa. Yes, the street, the trees, the Ebro, 
 the cupola of the Pilar, the belfries of 
 Saragossa, the passers-by, the houses, the walls 
 of the garden, the pavements, the sound of 
 the wind, the dogs of the street, all seemed 
 different to me, all, heaven and earth had 
 been changed. My good teacher began to 
 read again in Horace, and I said that Horace 
 wasn't worth anything. He wished me to 
 dine with him, and threatened me with the 
 loss of his friendship. I praised Virgil with 
 enthusiasm, and repeated the celebrated lines — 
 
 ** * Est mollis jiamma medullas 
 inter eay et taciturn vivit sub pectore "uulnus^ " 
 
 " This was about the first of September," 
 said I, " and since then .? " 
 
 " From that day a new life began for me. 
 It commenced with a burning disquiet that 
 robbed me of sleep, making distasteful to me 
 all that was not Mariquilla. My own father's 
 
 45 
 
/ 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 house was hateful to me ; and wandering about 
 the environs of Saragossa without any compan- 
 ion, I sought peace for my spirit in solitude. 
 I hated the college, all books and theology, and 
 when October came, and they wished me to 
 bind myself to live shut up in the holy house, 
 I feigned illness in order to remain in my own. 
 Thanks to the war that has made us all sol- 
 diers, I have been able to live free, to go at 
 all hours, day and night, and see and talk with 
 her frequently. I go to her house, make the 
 signal agreed upon ; she descends, opens her 
 grated window ; we talk long hours. People 
 pass by, but I am muffled in my cloak even 
 up to the eyes. With this and the dark- 
 ness of night, no one recognizes me. As far 
 as that is concerned, the boys in the street 
 ask one another, ^ Who is this admirer of 
 the Candiola ? ' The other night, fearing dis- 
 covery, we stopped our talks at the grating. 
 Mariquilla came down, opened the garden 
 gate, and I entered. No one could discover 
 us, because Don Jeronimo, believing her to be 
 in bed, retired to his room to count his money, 
 and the old servant, the only one in the house, 
 took us under her wing. Alone in the garden 
 we sat down upon some stone steps and watched 
 the brightness of the moonlight through the 
 
 46 
 
Saragossa 
 
 boughs of a great black poplar. In that ma- 
 jestic silence our souls contemplated the divine, 
 and we experienced a deep sentiment, beyond 
 words to express. Our felicity is so great that 
 at times it is a living torment. If there are 
 moments in which one might desire to be a 
 hundred beings, there are also moments in 
 which one might desire not to exist. We pass 
 long hours there. The night before last we 
 were there until daybreak. My teacher be- 
 lieved me to be with the guards, so I was not 
 obliged to hasten. When morning first began 
 to dawn, we separated. Over the top of the 
 w^all of the garden appeared the roofs of the 
 neighboring houses and the top of the Torre . 
 Nueva. Pointing it out to me, Mariquilla : 
 said, ' When that tower stands straight, then I 
 only shall I cease to love you.' " 
 
 Augustine said no more. A cannon-shot 
 sounded from the side of Mount Torrero, and 
 we both turned in that direction. 
 
 47 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE French had assaulted with great 
 vigor the fortified positions of the 
 Torrero. Ten thousand men defended them, 
 commanded by Don Philip Saint March and 
 by O'Neill, both generals of great merit. The 
 volunteers of Bourbon, Castile, Campo Segor- 
 bino, of Alicante, and of Soria, the sharp- 
 shooters of Fernando VH, the Murcia regi- 
 ment, and other bodies that I do not remember, 
 answered the fire. From the redoubt of Los 
 Martires we saw the beginning of the action, 
 and the French columns which extended the 
 length of the canal and flanked the Torrero. 
 The fire of the fusileers continued for some 
 time, but the struggle could not be prolonged 
 very long, for that point could not be held 
 without the occupation and fortification of 
 others close by, like Buena Vista, Casa Blanca, 
 and the reservoir of the canal. But none the 
 less our troops did not retire except slowly and 
 in the best order, retreating by the Puente de 
 America, and carrying with them all the pieces 
 
 48 
 
Saragossa 
 
 of artillery except one, which had been dis- 
 mantled by the enemy's fire. Amidst it all 
 we heard a great noise which resounded at a 
 great distance, and as the fire had almost ceased, 
 we supposed that there was another battle out- 
 side the town. 
 
 " There is the Brigadier Don Jose Manso," 
 said Augustine to me, "with the Swiss regi- 
 ment of Aragon, which Don Mariano Walker 
 commands, the volunteers of Huesca, of whom 
 Don Pedro Villacampa is leader, the volunteers 
 of Catalonia, and other valiant corps. And 
 here are we, hand in hand ! Along this side it 
 appears to be about finished. The French 
 will content themselves to-day with the con- 
 quest of Torrero." 
 
 " Either I am greatly deceived," I replied, 
 " or they are now going to attack San 
 
 J' y* 
 ose. 
 
 We all looked at the spot indicated, an edi- 
 fice of huge dimensions which arose at our 
 left, separated from the Puerta Quemada by 
 the valley of the Huerva. 
 
 " There is Renovales," said Augustine, — 
 " the brave Don Mariano Renovales, who 
 distinguished himself so highly in the other 
 siege, who now commands the troops of 
 Orihuela and of Valencia." 
 4 49 
 
Saragossa 
 
 In our position we were all prepared for an 
 energetic defence. In the redoubt del Pilar, 
 in the battery of Los Martires, in the tower of 
 Del Pino, the same as in the Trinitarios, the 
 artillery stood guard with burning matches, 
 and the infantry waited behind the parapets in 
 positions that seemed to us quite secure, ready 
 to fire if any columns should attempt to assault 
 us. It was cold, and most of us were shiver- 
 ing. One might almost have believed that it 
 was from fear ; but no, it was cold, and any- 
 body who had said the contrary would have 
 lied. 
 
 The movement which I had foreseen was not 
 slow in taking place, and the convent of San 
 Jose was attacked by a strong column of 
 French infantry. It was an attempt at an 
 attack, or, rather, a surprise. To all appear- 
 ances, the enemy had a poor memory, and 
 in three months they had forgotten that sur- 
 prises were impossible in Saragossa. None 
 the less they arrived within gunshot, and 
 doubtless the graceless whelps believed that 
 merely at sight of them our warriors would 
 fall dead with fear. The poor men had just 
 arrived from Silesia, and did not know what 
 manner of warfare there was in Spain. And, 
 furthermore, as they had gained the Torrero 
 
 50 ^' 
 
Saragossa 
 
 with so little difficulty, they believed them- 
 selves in train to swallow the world. They 
 were advancing thus, as I have said, and San 
 Jose was not making any demonstration. 
 When they were nearly within gunshot of the 
 loopholes and embrasures of that edifice, all at 
 once these began vomiting such a terrible fire 
 that my brave Frenchmen took to their heels 
 with the utmost precipitation. Having had 
 enough doubtless, they remained stretched out 
 at full length ; and upon seeing the outcome of 
 their valor, those of us who were watching the 
 onset from the battery of Los Martires broke 
 out into exclamations, applause, cries, and 
 huzzas. In this ferocious manner the soldier 
 celebrates in battle the death of his fellow- 
 creatures. He who instinctively feels com- 
 passion at the slaying of a rabbit on a hunt 
 jumps for joy on seeing hundreds of robust 
 men fall, — young, happy men who have never 
 done harm to anybody. 
 
 Such was the attack upon San Jose, a futile 
 attempt quickly punished. By that time, the 
 French should have understood that ifTorrero 
 was abandoned, it was by calculation and not 
 on account of weakness. Alone, embarrassed, 
 deserted, without external defences, without 
 forces or forts, Saragossa renewed again her 
 
 51 
 
Saragossa 
 
 earthworks, her defences of bricks, her bastions 
 of mud heaped up the evening before to be 
 again defended against the first soldiers, the 
 first artillery, and the first engineers of the 
 world. Pomp and show of a nation, formid- 
 able machines, enormous quantities of power, 
 scientific preparation of materials, force, and 
 intelligence in their greatest splendor, the in- 
 vaders bring to attack the fortified place which 
 appears to be guarded by boys. It is indeed 
 
 ' almost like this : all succumb, all is reduced to 
 powder in front of those walls which might 
 be kicked over. But behind this movable 
 defensive material is the well-tempered steel of 
 Aragon souls, which cannot be broken or bent, 
 nor cast into moulds, nor crushed, nor robbed 
 of breath, and which surrounds the whole re- 
 gion like a barrier, indestructible by human 
 I means. 
 
 / The whole district about the Torre Nueva 
 was resounding with clamors and alarms. 
 When to this district comes such mournful 
 sounds, the city is in danger and needs all her 
 sons. What is it ? What is passing ? What 
 will happen ? 
 
 " Matters must be going badly back of the 
 town," said Augustine. 
 
 Meanwhile they attacked us yonder to 
 
 52 
 
Saragossa 
 
 occupy the attention of the crowd on this side 
 of the river. The same thing was done in the 
 first siege. 
 
 " Al arrabal, al arrabal ! '* was our cry. " To 
 the suburb ! " 
 
 And while we were saying this, the French 
 sent us some balls to show us that we must 
 stay where we were. Fortunately Saragossa 
 had enough people within her walls, and could 
 readily assist and support all parts. 
 
 My battalion abandoned the wall near Santa 
 Engracia, and began to march towards the 
 Coso. We did not know where we were be- 
 ing conducted, but it is probable that they 
 were taking us to the suburb. The streets 
 were full of people. Old men and women 
 came out, impelled by curiosity, wishing to 
 see at close quarters and near at hand the 
 points of danger, since it was impossible for 
 them to be placed in the same peril. The 
 streets of San Gil, San Pedro, and La Cuchi- 
 lleria, which lead to the bridge, were almost 
 impassable. A great multitude of women were 
 passing through them, all walking in the di- 
 rection of the Pilar and La Seo. 
 
 The booming of the cannon excited rather 
 than saddened the fervent people, and all were 
 jostling one another to get nearest the front. 
 
 53 
 
Saragossa 
 
 In the Plaza de la Seo, I saw the cavalry 
 which, with all these people, obstructed the 
 bridge and obliged my battalion to look for 
 an easier way to the other side. While we 
 were passing before the porch of this sanct- 
 uary, we heard the sound of the prayers 
 wherewith all the women of the city were 
 imploring their holy patroness. The few men 
 who wished to come into the temple were ex- 
 pelled by them. 
 
 We went to the bank of the river near San 
 Juan de los Panetas, and took up our place on 
 a mound, awaiting orders. In front and on 
 the other side of the river, the field of battle 
 was divided. We saw at the end nearest us 
 the grove of Macanaz, over there and close 
 to the bridge the little monastery of Altabas, 
 yonder that of San Lazarus, and further on the 
 Monastery of Jesus. Behind this scene, re- 
 flected in the waters of the great river, could 
 be seen a horrible fire. There was an inter- 
 minable turmoil, a hoarse clamor of the voices 
 of cannon and of human yells. Dense clouds 
 of smoke, renewed unceasingly, mounted con- 
 fusedly to the heavens. All the breastworks 
 of this position, which were constructed with 
 bricks from neighboring brickyards, formed 
 with the earth of the kilns a reddish mass. 
 
 54 
 
Saragossa 
 
 One might have believed that the ground had 
 been mixed together with blood. 
 
 The French held their front towards the 
 Barcelona road and the Juslibol, where more 
 kilns and gardens lie at the left of the second 
 of those two ways. Thence the Twelfth had 
 furiously attacked our intrenchments, making 
 their way by the Barcelona road, and challeng- 
 ing with impetuous intrepidity the cross-fires 
 of San Lazarus and that of the place called El 
 Marcelo. Their courage lay in striking auda- 
 cious blows upon the batteries, and their tenacity 
 produced a veritable hecatomb. They fell in 
 great numbers ; the ranks were broken, and, 
 being instantly filled by others, they repeated 
 the attack. At times they almost reached the 
 parapets, and a thousand individual contests 
 increased the horror of the scene. They went 
 in advance of their leaders, brandishing their 
 cutlasses, like desperate men who had made 
 it a question of honor to die before a heap of 
 bricks, and in that frightful destruction which 
 wrenched the life from hundreds of men every 
 minute, they disappeared, flung down upon 
 mother earth, soldiers and sergeants, ensigns, 
 captains, and colonels. It was a veritable 
 struggle between two peoples ; and while the 
 fires of the first siege were burning in our 
 
 55 
 
Saragossa 
 
 hearts, the French came on thirsting for ven- 
 geance with all the passion of offended manhood, 
 worse even than the passion of the warrior.j 
 
 It was this untimely bloodthirstiness" that 
 lost them the day. They should have begun 
 by demolishing our works with their artillery, 
 observing the serenity which a siege demands, 
 and not have engaged in those hand to hand 
 combats before positions defended by a people 
 like the one that they had met on the fifteenth 
 of July, and the fourth of August. They 
 ought to have repressed their feeling of con- 
 tempt or scorn of the forces of the enemy, — a 
 feeling that has always been the bad star of 
 the French. It was the same in the war with 
 Spain, as in the recent conflict with Prussia. 
 They ought to have put into execution a 
 calmly considered plan which would have pro- 
 duced in the besieged less of disgust than 
 exaltation. 
 
 It is certain that if they carried with them 
 the thought of their immortal general who 
 always conquered as much by his admirable 
 logic as by his cannons, they would have em- 
 ployed in the siege of Saragossa a little of the 
 knowledge of the human heart, without which 
 the pursuit of war, brutal war — it seems a 
 lie ! — is no more than cruel carnage. 
 
 56 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Napoleon, with his extraordinary penetration, 
 would have comprehended the Saragossan 
 character, and would have abstained from at- 
 tacking the unprotected columns, whose boast 
 was of individual personal valor. This is a 
 quality at all times difficult and dangerous to 
 encounter, but above all in the presence of 
 nations who fight for an ideal and not for an 
 idol. 
 
 I will not go into further details of the 
 dreadful battle of the twenty-first of December, 
 the most glorious of the second siege of 
 Aragonl As I did not see it at close quarters, 
 and can only give the story of what was told 
 me, I am moved not to be prolix, because 
 there are so many and such interesting adven- 
 tures which I must narrate. This makes a 
 certain restraint necessary in the description of 
 these sanguinary encounters. It is enough 
 now to know that the French believed when 
 ni^ht came that it was time to desist from their 
 purpose, and they retired, leaving the plain 
 covered with bodies of the dead. It was a 
 good moment to follow them with cavalry ; 
 but after a short discussion the generals, I am 
 told, decided not to put themselves in peril in 
 a sally which could only be dangerous. 
 
 57 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 N^IGHT came, and when a part of our 
 troops fell back upon the city, all of 
 the people hastened to the suburb to look at 
 the field of battle from near at hand, and to 
 gladden their imaginations by going over, one 
 by one, the scenes of heroism. The animation, 
 the movement, the clatter of noise in that part 
 of the city were immense. At one side were 
 groups of soldiers singing with feverish joy, on 
 the other bands of merciful people carrying the 
 wounded into their houses. Everywhere was 
 hearty satisfaction, which showed itself in lively 
 dialogues, question, joyous exclamations, — 
 tears and laughter mingling with the rejoicings 
 and enthusiasm. 
 
 It was, possibly, about nine o'clock before 
 my battalion broke ranks ; because, lacking 
 quarters, we did not permit ourselves to leave 
 the position, although there was no danger. 
 
 Augustine and I ran to Del Pilar, where a 
 great crowd was rushing. We entered with 
 difficulty. I was surprised to see how some 
 
 58 
 
Saragossa 
 
 persons jostled and pushed others in order to 
 approach the chapel of the Virgin del Pilar. 
 The prayers, the entreaties, and the demonstra- 
 tions of rejoicing, taken all together, did not 
 seem like the prayers of any class of the faith- 
 ful. The prayers were like talks mingled with 
 tears, groans, the most tender words, and other 
 phrases of intimate and ingenuous affection, 
 such as the Spanish people are wont to use 
 with their saints that are most beloved. They 
 fell upon their knees ; they kissed the pavement ; 
 they grasped the iron gratings of the chapel ; 
 they addressed the holy image, calling it by 
 names the most familiar and the most pathetic of 
 the language. Those who could not — because 
 of the crowd of people — come near her were 
 talking to her from afar off, waving their arms 
 wildly about. There were no sacristans to 
 stop these wild ways and seemingly irreverent 
 noises, because they were themselves children 
 of this overflowing delirious devotion. The 
 solemn silence of sacred places was not ob- 
 served. All there were as if in their own | 
 house, as if the house of their cherished Virgin, ' 
 their mother, their beloved, the queen of Sara- 
 gossans, were also the house of her children, , 
 her servants and subjects. 
 
 Astonished at such fervor which the famil- 
 
 59 
 
Saragossa 
 
 iarity made more interesting, I fought my way 
 to the grating, and saw the celebrated image. 
 Who has not seen her, who does not know 
 her, at least by the innumerable sculptures and 
 portraits which have reproduced her endlessly 
 from one end of the peninsula to the other ? 
 
 She was at the left of the little altar which is 
 in the depth of the chapel in a niche adorned 
 with oriental luxury, a little statue, then as 
 now. A great profusion of wax candles illu- 
 minated her, and precious stones covered her 
 clothing and crown, darting dazzling reflections. 
 Gold and diamonds gleamed in the circlet 
 about her face, in the votive bracelets hung 
 upon her breast, and in the rings on her hands. 
 A living creature would have given way under 
 so great a weight of treasure. Her garments, 
 falling without folds, stretched straight from 
 head to feet, and left visible only her hands. 
 The child Jesus, sustained on her left side, 
 revealed a bit of his brown little face between 
 the brocade and the jewels. The face of the 
 Virgin, burnished by time, is also brown. A 
 gentle serenity possesses her, symbol of her 
 eternal blessedness. She looks outward, her 
 sweet gaze scanning constantly the devoted 
 concourse. There shines in her eyes a ray of 
 the clearest light, and this artificial gleam seems 
 
 60 
 
Saragossa 
 
 like the intensity and fixedness of the human 
 gaze. It was difficult when I saw her for the 
 first time to remain indifferent in the midst of 
 that religious demonstration, and not to add 
 a word to the concert of enthusiastic tongues 
 talking with distinct voices to the Senora. 
 
 I was watching the statue, when Augustine 
 pressed my arm, saying, — 
 
 " Look, there she is ! " 
 
 " Who, the Virgin ? I am looking at her 
 now." r"-''^'' 
 
 " No, man, Mariquilla 1 There, in front, 
 close to the column.'* 
 
 I looked, but I saw only a great many 
 people. We immediately quitted our place, 
 looking about for a way to get through the 
 multitude to the other side. 
 
 " She is not with Candiola,'* said Augustine, 
 joyously. " She has come with the servant." 
 And, saying this, he elbowed his way to one 
 side and the other to make a road, punching 
 backs and breasts, stepping on feet, matting 
 down hats, and rumpling clothing. I followed 
 behind him, causing equal destruction right and 
 left. At last we came to the beautiful young 
 girl, and it was really she, as I could see at once 
 with my own eyes. 
 
 The enthusiastic passion of my good friend 
 
 6i 
 
Saragossa 
 
 did not deceive me. Mariquilla was worth 
 the trouble of being extravagantly, madly 
 loved. Her pale brunette skin, her deeply 
 black eyes, her perfect nose, her incomparable 
 mouth, and her beautiful low forehead attracted 
 attention to her at once. There was in her 
 face as in her body a certain light and delicate 
 voluptuousness. When she lowered her eyes, 
 it seemed to me as if a sweet and lovely mist 
 surrounded her. She smiled gravely ; and 
 when she approached us, her looks revealed 
 timidity. Everything about her showed the 
 reserved and circumspect passion of a woman 
 of character, and she seemed to me little given 
 to talking, lacking in coquetry, and poor in 
 artifices. I afterwards had reason to confirm 
 this, my early judgment. There shone in the 
 face of Mariquilla a heavenly calm, and a cer- 
 tain security in herself. Different from most 
 women, like few among them, that soul would 
 not readily change, except for just and righteous 
 reasons. 
 
 Other women of quick sensibility pour them- 
 selves out like wax before a small fire ; but 
 Mariquilla was made of the best metal, yielding 
 only to a great fire, and when that came she 
 was of necessity like molten metal that burns 
 when it touches. 
 
 62 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Besides her beauty, the elegance and even 
 luxury of her dress attracted my attention. 
 Having heard much of the avarice of Can- 
 diola, I supposed that he would have re- 
 duced his daughter to the utmost extremes of 
 wretchedness in matters of dress. It was not 
 so. As Montoria told me afterwards, the 
 stingiest of the stingy not only permitted his 
 daughter some expenses, but now and then 
 made her some little present which he looked 
 upon as the ne plus ultra of mundane splendor. 
 
 If Candiola was capable of letting some of 
 his relations die of hunger, to his daughter he 
 gave a phenomenal, a scandalous amount of 
 pocket-money. Although he was a miser, he 
 was a father ; he loved his girl very much, 
 finding in his generosity to her perhaps the 
 only pleasure of his arid existence. 
 
 Somewhat more must be said in regard to 
 this, but it will appear little by little in the 
 course of the story. And now I must say that 
 my friend had not yet spoken ten words to his 
 adored Mariquilla, when a man approached us 
 abruptly, and after having looked at the two 
 for an instant with flashing eyes, spoke to the 
 young girl, taking her by the arm, and saying, 
 with a show of anger, — 
 
 " What is going on here ? And you, good 
 
 63 
 
 "».- 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Guedlta, what brought you to the Pilar at such 
 an hour ? Go to the house, go to the house 
 immediately ! " 
 
 And pushing before him mistress and maid, he 
 carried them both off towards the door and the 
 street, and the three disappeared from our sight. 
 It was Candiola. I remember him well, and 
 the remembrance makes me tremble with horror. 
 Further on you will know why. Since the brief 
 scene in the church del Pilar, the image of that 
 man has been engraven on my memory, and 
 certainly his facfe was not one which would let 
 itself be quickly forgotten." Old, bent, of 
 miserable and sickly *aspect, crooked and dis- 
 agreeable, lean of face, with sunken cheeks, 
 1 Candiola roused antipathy from the first mo- 
 ; ment. His nose, sharp and hooked like the 
 beak of a bird, his chin, peaked also, the coarse 
 hair of his grizzled eyebrows, the greenish 
 eyes, the forehead furrowed as if by a ruler with 
 deep parallel wrinkles, the cartilaginous ears, 
 the yellowish skin, the metallic quality of the 
 voice, the slovenly clothes, the insulting 
 grimaces, — all his personality from head to 
 foot, from his bag wig to the sole of his coarse 
 shoe, produced at sight an unconquerable re- 
 pulsion. It can readily be understood that he 
 had not a single friend. 
 
 64 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Candiola had no beard ; his face, according 
 to the fashion, was quite clean shaven, although 
 the razor did not enter the field more than once 
 a week. If Don Jeronimo had had a beard, it 
 would have made him seem very much like a 
 certain Venetian shop-keeper whom I after- 
 wards came to know very well, travelling in 
 the great world of books, and in whom I find \/j 
 certain traits of physiognomy that recalled the 
 man who had so brusquely presented himself 
 to us in the temple del Pilar. 
 
 " Did you see that miserable and ridiculous 
 old man ? '* Augustine asked me when we were 
 alone, looking towards the door where the three 
 people had disappeared. 
 
 " He evidently does n't like his daughter to 
 have admirers." 
 
 " But I am sure that he did not see me talk- 
 ing with her. He has suspicions, nothing 
 more. If he should pass from suspicion to 
 certitude, Mariquilla and I would be lost. Did 
 you see that look he threw us, the damned J 
 miser ? — he is black from his soul to his ' 
 Satanic hide." * 
 
 " Bad sort of father-in-law to have." 
 
 " Bad enough," said Montoria, sadly. " He 
 would be dear in exchange for a spoonful of 
 verdigris ! I am sure he will abuse her to- 
 5 65 
 
Saragossa 
 
 night ; but fortunately he is not in the habit of 
 ill-treating her." 
 
 " And would not the Senor Candida be 
 pleased to see her married to the son of Don 
 Jose de Montoria ? " I asked. 
 
 " Are you mad ? I see you talking to him 
 of that ! The wretched miser not only watches 
 i his daughter as if she were a bag of gold, and 
 T" is not disposed to give her to anybody; but he 
 ' has also an ancient and profound resentment 
 against my father, because he freed some un- 
 happy debtors from his fangs. I tell you, that 
 if he discovers that his daughter loves me, he 
 will keep her locked up in an iron chest in that 
 cellar of his where he keeps his hard cash. I 
 don't know what would happen if my father 
 came to know of it. My flesh creeps just to 
 think of it. The worst nightmare which dis- 
 turbs my slumbers is that which shows me the 
 moment when senor my father and seiiora my 
 mother learn of my great love for Mariquilla. 
 A son of Don Jose de Montoria enamoured of 
 a daughter of Candiola, a young man who is 
 formally destined to be a bishop, — a bishop, 
 Gabriel ! I am going to be a bishop, in the 
 minds of my parents ! '* 
 
 Saying this, Augustine dashed his head against 
 the sacred wall on which we were leaning. 
 
 66 
 
 / 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " And do you think you will go on loving 
 Mariquilla ? " 
 
 " Don't ask me that ! " he replied with en- 
 ergy. "Did you see her? If you saw her, 
 how can you ask me if I will go on loving her ? 
 Her father and mine would rather see me dead 
 than married to her. A bishop, Gabriel, they 
 wish me to be a bishop ! Think of being a 
 bishop and loving Mariquilla for all of my 
 life, here and hereafter, think of that and 
 pity me !" 
 
 " But God opens unknown ways," I 
 said. 
 
 " It is true, and sometimes my faith is 
 boundless. Who knows what to-morrow will 
 bring forth ? God and the Virgin shall guide 
 me henceforth." 
 
 " Are you devoted to this Virgin ? " 
 
 " Yes. My mother places candles before 
 the one we have in our house, that I may not 
 fall in battle ; and I say to her ' Sovereign 
 Lady, may this offering also serve to remind 
 you that I cannot cease from loving the daugh- 
 ter of Candiola. ' " 
 
 We were in the nave upon which opened the 
 chapel del Pilar. There is here an aperture 
 in the wall, by which the devout, descending 
 
 67 
 
Saragossa 
 
 two or three steps, approach to kiss the pedes- 
 tal which sustains the revered image. Au- 
 gustine kissed the red marble. I kissed 
 it also ; then we left the church to go to our 
 abode. 
 
 68 
 
kf,<r^ 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE following day, the twenty-second, 
 Palafox said to the messenger who 
 came under a flag of truce from Moncey to 
 propose terms of surrender. 
 
 "7 do not know how to surrender. After 
 death, we will talk about thatT 
 
 He followed this with a long and elo- 
 quent article which was published in the " Ga- 
 zette ; " but, according to general opinion, 
 neither that document nor any of the procla- 
 mations which appeared with the signature of 
 the commanding general were his own compo- 
 sition, but that of his friend, Basilio Boggiero, 
 a man of great judgment, who was often seen 
 in situations of danger, in the corhpany of 
 patriots and military leaders. 
 
 It is excusable to say that the army of the 
 defence was very much inspired by the glori- 
 ous action of the twenty-first. It was necessary 
 to give expression to this ardor, to arrange a 
 sortie, and so in effect it was done ; but it hap- 
 pened that all wished to take part in this at the 
 
 69 
 
Saragossa 
 
 same time, and it was necessary to bury the 
 dead. The sorties, arranged with prudence, 
 were expedient ; because the French, extending 
 their lines around the city, were preparing for a 
 regular siege, and had begun upon their outer 
 works. 
 
 The district of Saragossa contained many 
 people, which seemed to the common mind a 
 great advantage, but which seemed to the in- 
 telligent a great danger, because of the immense 
 destruction of human life which hunger would 
 quickly bring, — hunger, that terrible general 
 who is always the conqueror of overcrowded 
 besieged cities. Because of this excess of peo- 
 ple, the sorties were timely. 
 
 Renovales made one on the twenty-fourth 
 with the troops of the fortress of San Jose, and 
 cut down an olive grove which hid the works 
 of the enemy. 
 
 Don John O'Neill made a sally from the 
 suburb on the twenty-fifth with the volun- 
 teers of Aragon and Huesca, taking the chance 
 of advantage from the enemy's lack of prepa- 
 ration, and killing many of the enemy's men. 
 
 On the thirty-first was made the most tell- 
 ing sally of all, striking in two distinct places 
 and with considerable forces. During the early 
 part of the day we had -divided to perfection 
 
 70 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the works of the first French parallel, thrown 
 up about three hundred and twenty yards from 
 the walls. They were working actively, not 
 resting by night, and we could see that they 
 had signals of colored lanterns along the whole 
 line. From time to time we discharged our 
 guns, but we caused very little destruction. 
 If troops were especially needed for a recon- 
 noissance, they were despatched in less than no 
 time. 
 
 The morning of the thirty-first arrived, and 
 my battalion was charged to be ready to march 
 upon orders from Renovales to attack the 
 enemy In their centre, from the Torrero to 
 the Muela road, while General Butron did the 
 same by the Bernardona, that is to say, by the 
 French left, sallying with sufficient forces of 
 infantry and cavalry by the gates of Sancho 
 and Portillo. 
 
 In order to distract the attention of the 
 French, the general commanded that a battalion 
 should be divided into skirmishing parties by 
 the Tenerias, calling the attention of the enemy 
 in that direction. In the mean time, with some 
 of the soldiers of Olivenza and part of those 
 of Valencia, we advanced by the Madrid road 
 straight towards the French lines. The skirm- 
 ishing parties were on both sides of the road 
 
 71 
 
Saragossa 
 
 when the enemy became aware of our presence, 
 and now we were quicker than deer in doing 
 up the first troop of French infantry which 
 came to meet us. Behind a half-ruined coun- 
 try house some fortifications had been thrown 
 up, and they began firing with good aim and 
 much slaughter. For an instant we remained 
 undecided, then some twenty men of us flanked 
 the country house, while the rest followed the 
 high road, pursuing the fugitives ; but Reno- 
 vales dashed forward and led us on, cutting 
 down and bayoneting those who were defend- 
 ing the house. At the moment when we set 
 foot within the first defence I noticed that my 
 rank was thinned out. I saw some of my 
 companions fall, breathing their last sighs. I 
 looked to my right, fearing not to find my be- 
 loved friend among the living ; but God had 
 preserved him. Montoria and I were un- 
 harmed. 
 
 We could not spend much time in commu- 
 nicating to each other the satisfaction that we 
 felt at finding ourselves still alive, because 
 Renovales gave orders to follow on, in the di- 
 rection of the line of intrenchments that the 
 French were raising. We abandoned the high 
 road and made a deflection, turning to the right 
 with the intention of joining the volunteers of 
 
 72 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Huesca, who were attacking by the Muela 
 road. 
 
 It may be understood by what I have re- 
 lated that the French did not expect that 
 sortie, and that, taken completely unawares, 
 they were holding there, besides the scanty 
 force that kept the works, the engineers oc- 
 cupied in digging the trenches of the first 
 parallel. We attacked them vigorously, turning 
 upon them a murderous fire, improving the 
 minutes well before the dreaded reinforcements 
 should arrive. We took prisoners those whom 
 we met without arms ; we shot those who had 
 them. We took the picks and spades, — all 
 this with unequalled energy, animating one 
 another with fiery words, exalted above all 
 by the thought that they were watching us 
 from the city. 
 
 In this attack we were fortunate, for while 
 we were destroying those at work on the 
 intrenchments, the troops who had made the 
 sortie on the left were carrying on a successful 
 struggle with the detachments which the 
 enemy had in the Bernardona. While the vol- 
 unteers of Huesca, the grenadiers of Palafox, 
 and the Walloon guards defeated the French 
 infantry, the squadron of Numancia and Oli- 
 venza cavalry cautiously emerged through the 
 
 73 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Puerta de Sancho, and making a wide detour 
 occupied the Alagon road on one side, and the 
 Muela on the other, exactly when the French 
 drew back from the left to the centre, in need 
 of greater auxiliary forces. Finding them- 
 selves in their element, our fiery cavalry sprang 
 forward, destroying whatever was encountered 
 in the way, and then the disgraced infantry, 
 who were fleeing towards Torrero, fell, and 
 were trampled underfoot. 
 
 In their dispersion, many fell beneath our 
 bayonets, and if their desire to flee from the 
 horses was great, great also was our anxiety 
 to receive them in manner worthy of our 
 swords. Some ran, throwing themselves into 
 the trenches, not being able to jump over 
 them ; others surrendered at discretion, throw- 
 ing down their arms ; some defended them- 
 selves with heroism, permitting themselves to 
 be slain before giving up ; 'and at the last there 
 failed not a few who, shutting themselves up 
 in the brick kiln filled up with boughs and 
 timber, set fire to it, preferring to die by 
 roasting, rather than be taken prisoners. 
 
 All this which I have related in detail 
 passed in a very short time, while the French 
 commander, having seen enough in this hour, 
 detached sufficient forces to hold back and 
 
 74 
 
Saragossa 
 
 punish our too audacious expedition. They 
 beat the drum in Monte Torrero, and we saw 
 a great force of cavalry coming against us ; but 
 we who were with Renovales had had our 
 desire, the same as those with Butron, and 
 were not obhged to wait for those horsemen 
 who arrived at the end of the action ; so we 
 retired, giving them from a distance a "Good- 
 day " of the most sharp and pointed phrases 
 in our vocabulary. We still had time to make 
 useless some pieces placed ready for employ- 
 ment on the following day. We took a 
 multitude of tools and spades, and we de- 
 stroyed in all haste whatever we could of their 
 intrenchments without losing hold upon the 
 dozens of prisoners, of which we had taken 
 up a collection. 
 
 Juan Pirli, one of our companions in the 
 battalion, was carrying home to Saragossa the 
 steel helmet of an engineer for the admiration 
 of the public, and also a frying-pan in which 
 were still the remnants of a breakfast begun 
 in camp before Saragossa and ended in the 
 other world. 
 
 We had had nine killed and eight wounded 
 in our battalion. When Augustine rejoined 
 me near the Carmen gate, I noticed that one 
 of his hands was stained with blood. 
 
 75 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Are you wounded ? " I asked, examining 
 the hand. " It is nothing more than a scratch.'* 
 
 " It is a scratch/' he replied ; " but it was 
 not made by ball, lance, nor sabre, but by 
 teeth, because when I gripped that Frenchman 
 who lifted up his pick to brain me, the damned 
 fellow set his teeth into my hand like a dog 
 at bay." 
 
 When we entered the city, some by the 
 Puerta del Carmen, some by the Portillo, all 
 the pieces of the redoubts and forts of Medio- 
 dia poured a fire against the columns which 
 were coming after us. The two sorties com- 
 bined had done damage enough to the French. 
 In addition to losing many men, a small part 
 of their intrenchments had been made useless 
 to them, and we had possessed ourselves of a 
 considerable number of their tools. Besides 
 this, the official engineers that Butron took 
 with him on that daring venture had had time 
 to examine the works of the besiegers, and 
 measure them, and could give descriptions of 
 them to the commanding general. 
 
 The rampart wall was invaded by the 
 people. They had heard within the city the 
 shooting of the skirmishes, and men and wo- 
 men, old people and children had run out to 
 see what glorious action was bulletined on the 
 
 76 
 
Saragossa 
 
 plaza. We were received with exclamations 
 of rejoicing, and from San Jose all the way to 
 the Trinitarios, the long line of men and 
 women, looking towards the battlefield, climbed 
 upon the walls, and clapping their hands at 
 our arrival, waving their handkerchiefs, pre- 
 sented a magnificent sight. After the cannon 
 sounded, the redoubts together poured a fire 
 upon the field that we had just abandoned, 
 and their voices seemed a triumphal salvo, as 
 it mingled with the huzzas and shouts of joy. 
 
 In the surrounding houses, the windows and 
 balconies were filled with women, and the 
 interest or curiosity of some of those in the 
 streets was such that they went into the hurry- 
 ing crowd in numbers, and up to the cannons, 
 to congratulate the brave souls and soothe 
 with kind words their nerves, high strung with 
 the noise of artillery, which is unlike anything 
 else in the world. It was necessary to com- 
 mand the multitude to depart from the for- 
 tress at the Portillo. The crowd in the Santa 
 Engracia gave that place the aspect of a theatre, 
 of a public festival. The fire of the cannon 
 ceased at last, having no more need to pro- 
 tect our retreat, and the Castle Aljaferia alone 
 sent an occasional shot against the works of 
 the enemy. 
 
 77 
 
Saragossa 
 
 In reward for our action on that day it was 
 granted us on the next to wear a red ribbon 
 on the breast by way of decoration ; in justice 
 to the hazards of that sortie, Father Boggiero 
 told us, among other things uttered by the 
 mouth of our general, " Yesterday you marked 
 the last day of the year with an action worthy 
 of yourselves. At the sound of the bugle 
 your swords leaped from their scabbards and 
 struck to the ground haughty heads humbled 
 by your valor and patriotism. Numantia ! 
 Olivenza ! I have now seen that your light 
 horse will know how to preserve the honor 
 of this army and the enthusiasm of these sacred 
 walls ! Wear these blood-stained swords that 
 are the sign of your glory and the protection 
 of your country." 
 
 78 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 FROM that day, as memorable in the 
 second siege as Eras in the first siege, 
 began the great work in whose frenzy and 
 exaltation both besiegers and besieged lived 
 for the next month and a half The sorties 
 made during the first days of January were 
 not of much importance. The French, hav- 
 ing finished their first parallel, advanced in 
 a zig-zag towards opening their second, and 
 worked on it with so much activity that 
 very soon we saw our two best positions 
 in the Mediodia, San Jose and the redoubt 
 del Pilar, threatened by siege batteries, every 
 one with a dozen cannon. I must be excused 
 for saying that we did not cease to make 
 trouble for them, keeping up an incessant fire, 
 and surprising them with sudden skirmishes, 
 but this was all. Junot, who now took the 
 place of Moncey, carried forward the work 
 with great diligence. 
 
 Our battalion remained in the redoubt raised 
 at the outer end of the Huerva bridge. The 
 
 79 
 
Saragossa 
 
 radius of our fire was considerable, crossing 
 that of San Jose. The batteries of Los Mar- 
 tires, of the Botanical Garden, and of the Torre 
 del Pino further within the city were less 
 important than the two bodies holding the 
 advanced positions, and served as auxiliaries. 
 
 Numbers of Saragossan volunteers were with 
 us in the garrison, some of the soldiers of the 
 guard, and various armed peasants who rather 
 elected themselves to our corps than came into 
 it by our choice. Eight cannons held the 
 redoubt. Don Domingo Larripa was our 
 leader. The artillery was commanded by Don 
 Francisco Betbeze. As chief of engineers, we 
 had the great Simono, high official of that dis- 
 tinguished service, and a man of such quality 
 that he was able to quote himself as a model 
 of all good military men, both in valor and in 
 knowledge. 
 
 The redoubt was a work sufficiently strong 
 for the purpose, and not lacking in any material 
 requisite for defending itself. Over the en- 
 trance gate at the extremity of the bridge its 
 constructors had placed a tablet with this 
 inscription, — 
 
 The indestructible redoubt of our Lady of the 
 Pillar. Saragossans! Die for the Virgin del Pilar 
 or conquer I 
 
 80 
 
Saragossa 
 
 We had our lodging within the redoubt, and 
 though the place was not altogether bad, we 
 went on poorly enough. The rations were 
 provided by a committee recommended by the 
 military administration ; but this committee, to 
 our sorrow, was not able to attend to us prop- 
 erly. By good fortune, and to the honor of 
 that generous people, food was sent to us from 
 the neighboring houses, the best of their pro- 
 visions ; and we were frequently visited by the 
 charitable women, who since the battle of the 
 thirty-first had taken it upon themselves to 
 nurse and care for our poor wounded heroes. 
 
 I have not spoken of Pirli. Pirli was a boy 
 from outside the city, a rustic about twenty 
 years of age, and in such jolly condition that 
 the most dangerous situations only moved him 
 to a nervous and feverish joy. I never saw 
 him sad. He met the French singing ; and 
 when the bullets whistled past his head, he 
 capered about, making a thousand grotesque 
 gestures, throwing up his hands and fairly 
 dancing. When the fire was thick as hail, he 
 called the bullets " hailstones." He called the 
 cannon-balls " hot cakes ; " he called the hand- 
 grenades, "senoras ;" and the powder he called 
 "black flour," using other queer terms which I 
 do not now remember. Pirli, although not 
 
 I 
 
Saragossa 
 
 at all a serious person, was a charming 
 companion. 
 
 I do not know whether I have spoken of 
 Tio Garces. He was a man of forty-five 
 years, a native of Garrapinillos, very brave, 
 bronzed, sawed-off looking, with limbs of steel ; 
 there was no one so active or so imperturbable 
 under fire. He was somewhat talkative, and 
 was a little inclined to be imprudent in his con- 
 versation, but with a certain wit in his garrulity. 
 He had a small estate in the environs, and a 
 very modest house ; but he had levelled it with 
 his own hands, and cut down his pear-trees, so 
 that the enemy could not use them. I heard 
 of a thousand of his valorous deeds in the first 
 siege, and he wore a decoration on his right 
 sleeve, the embroidered shield of distinction of 
 the sixteenth of August. He dressed badly, 
 and went almost half-naked, not because he 
 lacked clothing, but because he had not time 
 to put it on. He and others like him were 
 without doubt those who inspired the celebrated 
 phrase of which I have already made mention : 
 " Their bodies were clothed only in glory." 
 He slept without shelter, and ate less than an 
 anchorite ; indeed with two pieces of bread and 
 a couple of bites of dried beef hard as hide, he 
 had rations for the day. 
 
 .82 
 
Saragossa 
 
 He was a man somewhat given to medita- 
 tion. When he saw the works of the second 
 parallel, he said, looking at the French : 
 " Thanks be to God, they are drawing near. 
 Cuerno ! Cuerno ! these people are a trial to 
 one's patience ! " 
 
 " What a hurry you are in, uncle Garces," 
 we said to him. 
 
 " I should say so. I want to plant my trees 
 again before winter is over. And next month 
 I want to build my little house again." 
 
 Truly Tio Garces should have worn a 
 tablet on his brow like that on the bridge, ' 
 reading, "An unconquerable man." 
 
 But who comes there, advancing slowly along 
 the valley of the Huerva, leaning upon a thick 
 stick and followed by a lively little dog which , 
 barked at all the passers-by, merely for mis- ru^ (Dtii^w 
 chief, without any intention of biting ? It is ^^ OUOfL 
 the friar. Father Mateo del Busto, reader and 
 qualifier of the order of Saint Francis de Paula, 
 chaplain of the second company of Saragossa 
 volunteers, an important man, who, in spite of 
 his age, was seen during the first siege in all 
 places of danger, succoring the wounded, help- 
 ing the dying, carrying ammunition to the well, 
 and cheering all by his gentle accents. Enter- 
 ing the redoubt, he showed us a large and heavy 
 
 83 
 
Saragossa 
 
 basket which he had toiled to bring here, and 
 in which was food better than that of our 
 ordinary table. 
 
 " These cakes," said he, placing it on the 
 ground, and taking out one by one things 
 which he named as he produced them, " have 
 been given me in the house of that most 
 excellent lady, the Countess de Bureta, and 
 this in the house of Don Pedro Ric. Here 
 you have a couple of slices of ham from my 
 convent, which was for Father Loshollos, whose 
 stomach is not strong, but he renounced this 
 luxury and gave it to me to take to you. See, 
 how does this bottle of wine look to you ? 
 How much would those foreign fellows yonder 
 give for it ? " 
 
 We all looked towards the plain. The little 
 dog, leaping impudently upon the wall, began 
 to bark at the French lines. 
 
 " I have also brought you a couple of 
 pounds of dried fruit which has been kept 
 in the dispensary at our house. We were 
 going to preserve them in liquor, but you 
 taste them first of any one, my brave boys. 
 I have not forgotten thee at all, my beloved 
 Pirli," he continued, turning to the boy of 
 that name ; " and as you are half naked, and 
 without a cloak, I have brought you a mag- 
 
 84 
 
Saragossa 
 
 nificent covering. Do you see this bundle ? 
 Well, here is an old gown that I have kept 
 to give to a poor man. Now, I present it to 
 you as a covering for your body. It is un- 
 suitable clothing for a soldier; but if the gown 
 does not make the monk, neither does the 
 uniform make the soldier. Put it on, and 
 you will be very comfortable in it." 
 
 The friar gave our friend his parcel, and 
 Pirli put on the garment, laughing and danc- 
 ing about ; and as he was still carrying on his 
 head the engineer's helmet which he had taken 
 in the enemy's camp on the thirty-first, he pre- 
 sented a figure stranger than can readily be 
 imagined. 
 
 A little later, several women also arrived 
 with baskets of provisions. The arrival of 
 femininity swiftly transformed the aspect of 
 the redoubt. I do not know from where 
 they produced a guitar ; it is certain that 
 they produced one from somewhere. One 
 of those present graciously began to play 
 the measures of that incomparable, divine, 
 immortal dance, the jot a, and in a moment 
 a great revelry of dancing was going on. 
 
 Pirli, whose grotesque figure began in a 
 French engineer and ended in a Spanish 
 friar, was the most carried away of any of 
 
 85 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the dancers, and could not keep tune with 
 his partner, a most graceful girl in Spanish 
 highland dress, who was called Manuela, 
 whom I noticed the first moment that I saw 
 her. She was about twenty-two years of 
 age, and was slender, of a pure pale com- 
 plexion. The excitement of the dance quickly 
 flushed her cheeks, and by degrees her move- 
 ments grew more lively, unmindful of fatigue. 
 With her eyes half shut, her cheeks rosy, her 
 arms moving to the music of the sweet strains, 
 she shook her skirts with lively grace; tak- 
 ing her steps lightly, and presenting to us now 
 her brow, and now her shoulders, Manuela 
 held us enchanted. 
 
 The ardor of the dancing crowd, the lively 
 music, and the enthusiasm of the rest of the 
 dancers augmented her own, until at last, 
 breathless with fatigue, she dropped her 
 arms and fell to earth like a stone or a 
 pomegranate. 
 
 Pirli stood over her, and surrounded her 
 by a sort of corral formed of himself and the 
 basket of provisions. 
 
 " Let us see what you have brought us, 
 Manuelilla," said Pirli. "If 'twere not for 
 thee and Father Busto, we should die of hun- 
 ger. And if it were not for this little dance 
 
 86 
 
Saragossa 
 
 with which we get rid of the bad taste of the 
 * hot cakes ' and the ' senoras,' what would 
 become of us poor soldiers ? " 
 
 " I bring you whatever there is," replied 
 Manuela, opening the basket of provisions. 
 " Wait a little. If the siege lasts, you will 
 be eating bricks." 
 
 " We shall have bullets mixed with black 
 flour," said Pirli. " Manuelilla, have you got 
 over being afraid of the bullets yet ? " Saying 
 this, he seized his gun, and shot it off into 
 the air. The girl gave a sharp scream, and, 
 startled, sprang up as if to escape. 
 
 "It is nothing, daughter," said the friar; 
 " brave women are not afraid of powder. On the 
 contrary, they should take as much pleasure in 
 it as in the sound of castanets and mandolins." 
 
 " When I hear a ball," said Manuela, coming 
 slowly and timidly back, " there is not a drop 
 of blood left in my veins." 
 
 At this moment the French, wishing to try 
 the artillery of their second parallel, shot off 
 a cannon, and the ball came against the wall 
 of the redoubt, shattering the loose bricks into 
 a thousand pieces. Everybody rose to look 
 at the enemy. The highland girl cried out 
 in terror ; and Tio Garces was moved to 
 scream through a loop-hole at the French, 
 
 87 
 
\e- 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 heaping upon them the most insolent words, 
 accompanied by many exclamations. The 
 little dog, running from one end of the place 
 i to the other, barked furiously. 
 
 " Manuela, let us dance another jota to the 
 sound of this music, and viva the Virgin del 
 Pilar," cried Pirli, jumping about like one out 
 of his senses. 
 
 Manuela rose on tiptoe, impelled by curi- 
 osity, and slowly stretched up her head to look 
 at the camp from the wall. Then, casting her 
 glance over the level plain, she seemed to 
 dissipate, little by little, the terrors of her faint- 
 ing spirit; and at last we saw her surveying the 
 enemy's lines with a certain serenity, and even 
 with a little complacency. 
 
 " One, two, three cannon ! " she said, count- 
 ing the fiery mouths which were discernible 
 at that distance. " Come, little boys, don't be 
 afraid. This is nothing to you ! " 
 
 Over near San Jose was heard the booming 
 of guns, and on our redoubt sounded the 
 drum calling to arms. From the neighboring 
 stronghold had sallied forth a little column 
 that exchanged distant shots with the French 
 workmen. Some of these, running to their 
 left, placed themselves within arm's length of 
 our fire. We all ran to the walls, disposed 
 
Saragossa 
 
 to send them a few hailstones, and without 
 waiting orders, some of us discharged our 
 guns with loud huzzas. 
 
 All the women fled by the bridge towards 
 the city except Manuela. Did fear prevent 
 her from moving ? No. Her fear was great; 
 she trembled, and her teeth chattered ; her face 
 grew pale ; but an irresistible curiosity kept 
 her in the redoubt. She fastened her gaze on 
 the sharp-shooters, and on the cannon that 
 was about to be discharged. 
 
 " Manuela, are you not going ? '* said Au- 
 gustine. " Does n't it frighten you to look 
 at all that?" 
 
 The girl, with her attention fixed on the 
 spectacle, terrified, trembling, with white lips 
 and palpitating bosom, neither moved nor 
 spoke. 
 
 " Manuelilla," said Pirli, running up to 
 her, " take my gun and shoot it off." 
 
 Contrary to what we expected, Manuel- 
 ilia did not show any sign of terror. 
 
 " Take it, please," cried Pirli, making her 
 take the gun. " Put your thumb here. Aim 
 over yonder. Fire ! Viva the second artillery 
 woman ! Viva Manuela Sancho and the Vir- 
 gin del Pilar ! " 
 
 The girl took the gun, and, to judge by her 
 
 89 
 
Saragossa 
 
 actions, and the stupor of her looks, it seemed 
 as if she did not know what she was doing. 
 But, raising the gun with a trembling hand, 
 she aimed at the field, pulled the trigger, and 
 fired. 
 
 A thousand fiery shouts of applause greeted 
 the discharge, and the girl left the gun. She 
 was radiant with satisfaction, and her delight 
 deepened the roses in her cheeks. 
 
 " Do you see ? You have already lost your 
 fear ? " said the priest. " There is nothing 
 more in these things than taking hold of them. 
 All the Saragossan women ought to do the 
 same, and then Augustina Casta Alvarez 
 would not be the one glorious exception to 
 her sex." 
 
 " Bring another gun," exclaimed the girl ; 
 " I wish to fire again." 
 
 " They have already marched off, if you 
 please ! Are n't you a good one ! " said Pirli, 
 preparing to make an onslaught on the pro- 
 vision basket. " To-morrow, if you like, you 
 shall be invited for a few ' hot cakes.' Well, 
 let us make ourselves comfortable and eat." 
 
 The friar, calling his little dog, said to him : 
 " That is enough, my son ; don't bark so, nor 
 take it so much to heart that you make your- 
 self hoarse. Keep your boldness until to-mor- 
 
 90 
 
Saragossa 
 
 row. To-day, we have no wish to employ it, 
 for if I am not mistaken they are hurrying 
 away to get behind their works." 
 
 In fact the skirmish at San Jose had con- 
 cluded, and for the moment the French were 
 not in sight. A short time afterwards the sound 
 of the guitar was renewed, and the women re- 
 turning, the sweet undulations of the jota began 
 again with Manuela Sancho and the great Pirli 
 in the first line. 
 
 91 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 HEN I woke at daybreak the next 
 morning I saw Montoria, who was 
 passing by the wall. 
 
 " I believe that the bombardment is going 
 to begin," he said to me ; " there is a great 
 activity in the enemy's lines." 
 
 " They will try to demolish this redoubt," I 
 said, getting up lazily. " How gloomy the sky 
 is, Augustine ! Day dawns very sadly." 
 
 " I believe they will attack on all sides at 
 once, until they have made their second parallel. 
 Do you know that Napoleon in Paris, know- 
 ing the resistance shown by this city in the first 
 siege, was furious with Lefebre Desnouettes be- 
 cause he assaulted the plaza by the Portillo 
 and the Castle Aljaferia. He called for a plan 
 of Saragossa, and they gave it to him, and he 
 showed that the city should be attacked by 
 Santa Engracia." 
 
 " By this place ? A black day is indeed 
 dawning for us if the orders of Napoleon are 
 carried out. Tell me, have we anything to eat 
 here ? " 
 
 92 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " I did not show it to you before because I 
 wished to surprise you," he said to me, show- 
 ing me a basket which served as the tomb of 
 two cold roast fowls, some comfits and fine 
 preserves. 
 
 "You brought these last night? Indeed! 
 How could you go out of the redoubt ? " 
 
 " I got leave from the general for an hour, 
 and Mariquilla prepared this feast. If Can- 
 diola knows that two of the hens from his 
 chicken-corral have been killed and roasted to 
 regale two of the defenders of the city, the 
 devil will be to pay. Let us eat then, Senor 
 Araceli, while we await the bombardment. 
 Here it comes. One bomb ! Another, an- 
 other ! " 
 
 The right batteries opened fire upon San 
 Jose and the Pilar, and what a fire ! The 
 whole army seemed behind the cannon. Away 
 with breakfasts, away with the morning meal, 
 away with tidbits ! — the men of Aragon will 
 have no food but glory ! 
 
 The unconquerable fortress answered the 
 insolent besieger with a tremendous cannonade, 
 and soon the great soul of our fatherland 
 moved within us. The balls, beating upon the 
 brick walls and the earthworks, beat down the 
 redoubt as if it were a toy pelted with stones 
 
 93 
 
Saragossa 
 
 by a boy. The grenades, falling among us, 
 burst with a great noise, and the bombs, 
 passing with awful majesty over our heads, 
 went on to fall into the streets and upon the 
 roofs of the houses. 
 
 Everybody out ! Let there be no idle or 
 cowardly people in the city. The men to the 
 walls, the women to the bloody hospitals, the 
 children and priests to carry ammunition ! 
 Let no notice be taken of these dreadful and 
 burning things which bore through roofs, pen- 
 etrate dwelling-houses, open gates, pierce floors, 
 descend to the cellars, and, bursting, scatter the 
 flames of hell upon the tranquil hearth, sur- 
 prising with death the aged invalid on his 
 couch and the child in his cradle. Nothing 
 of this sort matters. Everybody out into the 
 street, and thus save honor though the city 
 perish, and the churches and convents and hos- 
 pitals and the estates which are but earthly 
 things ! The Saragossans, despising material 
 good as they despised life, lived by their spirits 
 in the infinite spaces of the ideal. 
 
 In the first moments the Captain-General and 
 many other distinguished personages visited 
 us, — such as Don Mariano, Cereso the priest 
 of Sas, General O'Neill, San Genis, and Don 
 Pedro Ric. There was also there the brave 
 • 94 . 
 
Saragossa 
 
 and generous Don Jose Montoria, who em- 
 braced his son, saying to him : " To-day is the 
 day to conquer or to die. We will meet each 
 other in heaven/' 
 
 Behind Montoria, Don Roque presented 
 himself; he had become a brave fellow, and as 
 he had been employed in the sanitary service, 
 he began to show a feverish activity before 
 there were any wounded, and displayed to us 
 a good sized pile of lint. Various friars min- 
 gled among the combatants during the early 
 firing, encouraging us with mystic fervor. 
 
 At the same time, and with equal fury, the 
 French attacked the redoubt del Pilar and 
 the fortress of San Jose. The latter, although 
 more formidable in aspect, had less power of 
 resistance, perhaps because it presented a 
 broader target for the enemy's fires. But 
 Renovales was there with the Huesca and the 
 Valencia volunteers, the Walloon guards, and 
 various members of the militia of Soria. 
 The great lack of the fortress was in its having 
 been constructed for the protection of a vast 
 edifice, which the enemy's artillery converted 
 into ruins in a little while ; pieces of the thick 
 wall were forced in from time to time, and 
 many of its defenders were crushed. We 
 were better off. Over our heads we had only 
 
 95 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the heavens, and if no roof guarded us from 
 the bombs, neither did masses of masonry fall 
 upon us. They demolished the wall by the 
 front and sides, and it was a pity to see how 
 that fragile mass fell away little by little, plac- 
 ing us in an exposed position. Nevertheless, 
 after four hours of incessant iire by powerful 
 artillery, they were not able to open a breach. 
 
 Thus passed the day of the tenth with no 
 advantage for the besiegers from us, even if 
 they had succeeded in getting near San Jose 
 and opening a wide breach, which, together 
 with the ruined condition of the building, 
 forced the unhappy necessity of its surrender. 
 Yet, in the mean time, the fortress had not been 
 reduced to powder, and, dead or alive, its de- 
 fenders had hope. Fresh troops were sent 
 there, because the battalions working there 
 since morning were decimated ; and when 
 night fell, after the opening of the breach 
 and the fruitless attempt at an assault, yet 
 Renovales held the blood-soaked ruins, among 
 the heaps of corpses, with only the third part 
 of his artillery. 
 
 When night interrupted the firing, there 
 had been great carnage on both sides. We 
 ourselves had lost many by death, and more 
 were wounded. The wounded were carried 
 
 96 
 
Saragossa 
 
 at the time into the city by the friars and 
 the women ; but the dead still gave their 
 last service with their cold bodies, for they 
 were stoically thrown into the open breach, 
 which was being stopped up with sacks of 
 wool and earth. 
 
 During the night we did not rest for one 
 single moment, and the dawn of the eleventh 
 found us inspired by the same frenzy, our 
 pieces already pointed against the enemy*s 
 intrenchments, and already piercing with 
 musket shots those who were coming to flank 
 us, without hindering for a moment the work 
 of stopping up the breach, which was widen- 
 ing, hour by hour its dreadful spaces. So we 
 endured all the morning until the moment 
 when they began the assault upon San Jose, 
 now converted into a heap of ruins, and with 
 most of its garrison dead. Centring the 
 forces upon these two points, they fell upon 
 the convent, and directed an audacious move- 
 ment upon us ; and it was with the object of 
 making our breach practicable that they ad- 
 vanced by the Torrero road with two cannons 
 protected by a column of infantry. 
 
 At that moment we thought ourselves lost. 
 The feeble walls trembled, and the bricks were 
 shattered into thousands of pieces. We ran 
 7 97 
 
Saragossa 
 
 up to the breach, which was widening every 
 instant, where they poured upon us a horrible 
 fire. Seeing that the redoubt was being shat- 
 tered to pieces, they took courage to come to 
 the very borders of the fosse itself It was 
 madness to try to fill that terrible space, 
 and to show an uncovered place was to offer 
 victims without number to the fury of the 
 enemy. We protected ourselves as well as we 
 could with sacks of wool and shovels of earth, 
 and many stood as if petrified on the spot. 
 The firing of the cannon ceased because it 
 seemed necessary ; J there was a moment of 
 indefinable panic ; the guns fell from our 
 hands ; we saw ourselves routed, destroyed, 
 annihilated by that rain of fire that seemed 
 ^.,^"''^ to fill the air. We forgot honor, the father- 
 land, the glory of death, the Virgin del Pilar, 
 'k, whose name adorned the bridge and the " un- 
 
 conquerable " defences. The most dreadful 
 confusion reigned in our ranks. Descending 
 suddenly from the high moral level of our souls, 
 all those who had not fallen desired life of one 
 accord, and, leaping over the wounded and 
 trampling the dead under foot, we fled towards 
 the bridge, abandoning that horrible sepulchre 
 before it should shut us in, entombing us all.) 
 On the bridge we were swallowed up by 
 
 98 
 
Saragossa 
 
 insupportable terror and disorder. There is 
 nothing more frenzied than a coward. His 
 abject meannesses are as great as the sub- 
 limities of his valor. 
 
 Our leaders kept crying out to us, " Back, 
 you rabble ! The redoubt del Pilar has not 
 surrendered ! " striking our swords with their 
 sabres. We turned back on the bridge, unable 
 to go further, as reinforcements came, and we 
 stumbled over one another, the fury of our 
 fear mingling with the impetus of their bravery. 
 
 " Back, cowards ! " cried our officers, striking 
 us in the faces, " and die in the breach ! " 
 
 The redoubt was vacated. None but the 
 dead and the wounded were there. Suddenly 
 we saw advance amid the dense smoke and the 
 blackness of powder, leaping over the lifeless 
 bodies and the heaps of earth and the ruins, 
 and the guns we had thrown down, and the 
 shattered works, a figure, dauntless, pale, 
 splendid, of tragic calmness. It was a woman 
 Vs^ho had made her way forward and, penetrating 
 the abandoned place, was marching like a queen 
 towards the horrible breach. Pirli, who was 
 lying on the ground, wounded in the leg, ex- 
 claimed in affright, — 
 
 " Manuela Sancho, \^here are you going? *' 
 
 All this passed in much less time than I 
 
 99 
 
Saragossa 
 
 take to tell it. After Manuela Sancho, first 
 one, then another, then many hurried, then 
 all, urged on by the leaders whose sabre-cuts 
 had prodded us to the point of duty. This 
 portentous transformation came about by the 
 impulse of every man's heart obeying senti- 
 ments which all feel without any one's know- 
 ing whence the mysterious force emanates. 
 I do not know why we were cowards, nor why 
 we were brave a few moments later. What I 
 do know is that, moved by an extraordinary 
 power, immense and superhuman, we hurled 
 ourselves into the breach behind the heroic 
 woman, at the point where the French were 
 attempting the assault with ladders. Without 
 in the least knowing how to explain it, we felt 
 our strength increased a hundred-fold, and 
 crushed them back, hurling into the ditch 
 those men of cotton who a little while ago had 
 seemed to us men of steel. With shots and 
 sabre-cuts, with shells, with shovels full of 
 earth, by blows, and bayonet-thrusts, we fought. 
 Many of our number died to defend others 
 with their dead bodies. We defended the 
 breach, indeed, and the French were obliged to 
 retire, leaving many dead and wounded at the 
 bottom of the wall. The cannons again began 
 firing, and the unconquerable redoubt did not 
 
 TOO 
 
Saragossa 
 
 fall on the eleventh into the hands of the 
 French. 
 
 When the tempest of fire was calmed, we 
 did not know ourselves. We were transfigured, 
 and something new and unknown palpitated 
 in the depths of our souls, giving us an- un- 
 heard-of fierceness. The following day Palafox 
 said, with much eloquence : " Nor balls, nor 
 bombs, nor shells shall make our faces change 
 color, nor can all France accom.plish that ! " 
 
 lOI 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE fortress of San Jose had surrendered, 
 or rather the French had entered it 
 when their artillery had reduced it to powder, 
 and all of its defenders had fallen, one by one, 
 to lie among its fragments. The Imperial 
 soldiers, on entering, found heaps of bodies and 
 stones matted together with blood. They 
 could not establish themselves there because 
 they were flanked by the batteries of Los 
 Martires and the Botanical Garden, so they 
 continued operations by mining, in order to 
 possess themselves of those two points. The 
 fortifications which we held were so nearly 
 destroyed that a general agreement was urgent, 
 and the terrible orders, calling upon all the 
 inhabitants of Saragossa to work in renewing 
 them. The proclamation said that every citi- 
 zen should carry a gun in one hand and spade 
 in the other. 
 
 The twelfth and thirteenth were without 
 rest, the fire diminishing a little because the 
 besiegers, warned by sad experience, did not 
 
 I02 
 
Saragossa 
 
 o 
 
 wish to risk any more hand-to-hand conflicts. 
 Understanding that theirs was a work of 
 patience and skill, rather than of boldness 
 and bravery, they opened slowly, and with 
 security, roads and mines which should lead to 
 the possession of the redoubt without loss of 
 men. It was almost necessary to build our 
 walls anew, or rather to substitute sacks of 
 earth for them, an operation in which many 
 friars, canons, civil officials, children, and women 
 were occupied. The artillery was almost use- 
 less, the fosse about filled up, and it was nec- 
 essary to continue the defence at short range. 
 And so we wore through the thirteenth, pro- 
 tecting the works as we rebuilt them, suffering 
 much, and seeing ourselves constantly decreas- 
 ing in numbers, although new men came to 
 take the places of the many that we lost. On 
 the fourteenth the enemy's artillery tried to 
 demolish our new walls, opening breaches for 
 us on the front and at the sides. They did 
 not dare to try a new assault, contenting them- 
 selves with opening a mine in such a direction 
 that we could not in any way cover it with our 
 fire, nor with that of any battery near by. 
 
 Our valorous tantalizing earthworks would 
 soon be covered by the fires of the French 
 
 batteries, which were hurling to the four 
 
 103 
 
Saragossa 
 
 winds the earth of which they were formed. In 
 this situation, surrender was inevitable sooner 
 or later. Indeed we were at the mercy of the 
 French arms as a ship at the mercy of the 
 waves of the ocean. Flanked by roads and 
 zig-zags, through which a strong and clever 
 enemy might walk without danger, protected 
 by all the resources of science, our bulwarks 
 of defence were like one man surrounded by an 
 army. We had no serviceable cannons, nor 
 could we bring other new ones, because the 
 walls would not have borne them. Our only 
 resource was to keep watch of the redoubt in 
 order to fly from it at the moment when the 
 French should enter and destroy the bridge, in 
 order to prevent them from following us. 
 This was done ; and on the night of the four- 
 teenth they worked without rest on the mine, 
 and we placed small mines at the bridge, hoping 
 that the following day the enemy would try to 
 mount by that wall. But this did not happen. 
 Not daring to make another assault without all 
 the precautions and security possible, they con- 
 tinued their work of digging very nearly up to 
 our fosse. In this labor our indefatigable fusi- 
 leers did them little damage. We were des- 
 perate, but without power to do anything. 
 Our desperation was of no avail ; it was a 
 
 104 
 
Saragossa 
 
 useless force, like the rage of a lunatic in his 
 cage. 
 
 We drew out the nails from the tablet which 
 proclaimed ours to be the unconquerable re- 
 doubt, in order to take away with us that witness 
 of our justifiable arrogance. At nightfall the 
 fortification was abandoned, only forty remain- 
 ing to keep it until the end, and shoot all they 
 could, as our captain said that no chance might 
 be lost to lose the enemy a couple of men. 
 From the Torre del Pino we saw the retreat 
 of the forty at about eight o'clock in the 
 evening, after they had met the invaders 
 with bayonet-thrusts ; they retreated fighting 
 bravely. 
 
 The interior mine of the redoubt had had 
 little effect, but the small mines of the bridge 
 acquitted themselves so well that the passage 
 was destroyed and the redoubt isolated from 
 the other bank of the Huerva. Gaining this 
 position and San Jose, the French would have 
 enough protection to open their third parallel 
 and to demolish at their leisure the whole cir- 
 cuit of the city. We were saddened and just \ 
 a little discouraged ; but of what importance is 
 a little depression when on the day following 
 one has a diversion and a feast ? After being 
 madly discouraged, a little jollity does not \ 
 
 I OS 
 
Saragossa 
 
 come amiss, especially when time is wanting 
 to bury the dead ; nor was there room in the 
 houses for the many who were wounded. It 
 is true that there were hands for all that had 
 to be done, thanks be to God. 
 
 The reason for the general rejoicing was that 
 glorious rumors were in circulation of Spanish 
 armies that were coming to succor us, on the 
 heels of the French, in many parts of the 
 Peninsula. The people crowded into the Plaza 
 de la Seo, and in front of the Magdalene arch, 
 waiting until the "Gazette" should appear; and 
 at last it came out, cheering everybody's spirits, 
 and making all hearts palpitate with hope. I 
 do not know if such rumors had really reached 
 Saragossa, or if they originated in the wits of 
 the chief editor, Don Ignacio Assor. It is 
 certain that they told us in print that Reading 
 was coming to succor us with an army of sixty 
 thousand men, that the Marquis of Lazan, after 
 routing the mob in the north of Catalonia, had 
 entered France, spreading terror in every di- 
 rection, and that also the Duke del Infantado 
 was coming to our aid, who with Blake and la 
 Romana had routed Napoleon, slaying twenty 
 thousand men, including Berthier, Ney, and 
 Savary, and that at Cadiz had arrived several 
 millions in hard cash sent by the English for 
 
 1 06 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the expense of war. What did it all mean ? 
 Could the "Gazette" explain all this? 
 
 In spite of the size of these mouthfuls of 
 rumor, we swallowed them ; and there were 
 demonstrations of joy, ringing of church bells, 
 running through the streets, and singing the 
 music of the jota, with many other patriotic 
 excesses, which at least had the advantage of 
 affording us a little of that cooling off of our 
 mental temperature which was necessary. Do 
 not believe that in consideration of our joy the 
 rain of bombs had ceased ! Very far from 
 that ! They seemed to jeer at the news of our 
 " Gazette," as they repeated their dose. Feel- 
 ing a lively desire to laugh at them to their 
 faces, we went to the walls. The musicians of 
 the regiments played in a tantalizing fashion, 
 and we all sang in an immense chorus the 
 famous words, — 
 
 **The Virgin del Pilar says 
 
 She wouldn't like to be a Frenchwoman ! " 
 
 They were in a mood for answering jests, 
 and in less than two hours a greater number 
 of projectiles were sent into the city than dur- 
 ing all the rest of the day. There was now 
 no longer a secure refuge ; there was not a 
 hand's breadth of ground or of roof free from 
 
 107 
 
Saragossa 
 
 that Satanic fire. Families fled from their 
 homes, or took refuge in the cellars. The 
 wounded, who were numerous in the principal 
 houses, were carried to the churches, seeking 
 shelter in their strong vaults. Others went 
 dragging themselves along. Some more active 
 ones carried their bedding upon their shoulders. 
 Most of them were accommodated in the Pilar ; 
 and after the floor was all filled, they were 
 stretched out upon the altars and crowded into 
 the chapels. In spite of their misfortunes, 
 they were consoled by looking at the Virgin, 
 who seemed to say to them unceasingly with 
 her brilliant eyes that she would not care to be 
 a Frenchwoman ! 
 
 io8 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 MY battalion did not take part in the 
 sorties of the days of the twenty-second 
 and twenty-fourth, nor in the defence of the 
 Molino and the positions situated at the back 
 of San Jose, made glorious by the destruction 
 of many of our troops, where they had made the 
 French feel the strength of their hand. It was 
 not because they had not been careful to take 
 precautions, for indeed from the mouth of 
 Huerva to the Carmen gate they stationed 
 fifty cannon, most of them of heavy calibre, 
 directing them with great skill against our 
 weakest points. In spite of all this, we laughed, 
 or pretended to laugh, at them, as in the 
 vain-glorious response of Palafox to Marshal 
 Lannes (who had placed himself since the 
 twenty-second at the head of the besieging 
 army), in which he said to him, " The conquest 
 of this city will be a great honor to Monsieur 
 the Marshal if he gains it in open fight, and 
 not with bombs and grenades, which only 
 terrify cowards." 
 
 109 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Of course, after a few days had passed, it was 
 known that the hoped-for forces and the 
 powerful armies that were coming to free us 
 were all mists of our imaginations, and espe- 
 cially of that of the journalist who invented 
 them. There were no such armies of any sort 
 roaming about to help us. 
 
 I understood very soon that all that which 
 was published in the " Gazette " of the sixteenth 
 was a canard, and so I said to Don Jose de 
 Montoria and his wife, who in their optimism 
 attributed my incredulity to a lack of public 
 spirit. I had gone with Augustine and others 
 of my friends to the Montoria house to 
 help them at a task that was wearying them 
 greatly. A part of their roof had been de- 
 stroyed by the bombs, and this threatened the 
 walls with destruction also. They were trying 
 to remedy this with all possible speed. The 
 eldest son of Montoria, wounded in battle 
 at the Molino, had been lodged with his 
 wife and son in the cellar of a house close 
 by, and Dona Leocadia gave her hands and 
 feet no rest, going and coming between the 
 two houses, carrying things which were neces- 
 sary. 
 
 " I can't let anything be done by others/' 
 she said to me ; " that is my nature. Al- 
 
 IIO 
 
Saragossa 
 
 though I have servants, I am not content 
 unless I do everything myself. How has my 
 son Augustine borne himself? " 
 
 " Like what he is, sefiora, a brave boy,'* 
 I answered ; " and his talent for war is so great 
 that I should not be surprised to see him a 
 general in a couple of years.'* 
 
 " A general ! " she exclaimed in surprise. 
 " My son is going to chant masses as soon as 
 the siege is ended. Indeed you know we 
 have educated him for that. God and the 
 Virgin del Pilar bring him in safety through 
 battle, that the rest of his days may go on in 
 appointed ways ! The fathers at the Seminary 
 have assured me that I shall see my son with 
 his mitre on his head and his crosier in his 
 hand." 
 
 " It will be so, senora, I do not doubt it. 
 But seeing how he manages arms, I cannot 
 bring myself to the thought that with the same 
 hand with which he pulls the trigger, he will 
 also scatter benedictions." 
 
 " It is true, Seiior de Araceli ; and I have 
 always said that the trigger is not becoming 
 to churchmen. But you see how it is. 
 Here we have great warriors, — Don Santiago 
 Sas, Don Manuel Lasartesa; the incumbent 
 of San Pablo, Don Antonio La Casa; the 
 
 III 
 
jj^ 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 parish priest of San Miguel, Don Jose Mar- 
 tinez ; and also Don Vicente Casanova, who is 
 famous as the first theologian of Saragossa. 
 Indeed they all fight, my son also, though I 
 suppose he will be eager to return to the 
 Seminary and plunge into his studies. Would 
 you believe it ? Lately he was studying books 
 so large that they weighed two quintals. God's 
 blessing be on the boy ! I am quite foolish 
 over him when he recites some grand things 
 all in Latin. I suppose they are all about our 
 Lord, and his love for his church, because 
 there is a great deal about amorem and formosa 
 and pulcherrimay inflamavit^ and other words 
 T^^ like those." 
 
 " Exactly," I replied, imagining that his 
 recitations were from the fourth book of a cer- 
 tain ecclesiastical work called the ^Eneid, writ- 
 ten by a certain Friar Virgil of the order of 
 Predicadores. 
 
 " It must be as I say," said Dona Leocadia. 
 " And now, Senor de Araceli, let us see if you 
 can help me move this table." 
 
 "With the greatest pleasure, dear lady. I 
 will move it for you myself," I replied, taking 
 charge of it at the moment that Don Jose de 
 Montoria entered, pouring out " porras " and 
 " cuernos " from his blessed mouth. 
 
 112 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " How is this, porra ! " he cried ; " men 
 occupied in women's business ? It is not for 
 moving tables and chairs that a gun has been 
 placed in your hands ! And you, wife? How 
 can you distract in this manner a man needed 
 on the other side ? You and the children, 
 porra ! can you not move the furniture ? 
 Are you made of paste or cheese ? Look ! 
 In the street below is the Countess de 
 Bureta with a bed on her shoulders, and her 
 two maids carrying a wounded soldier on a 
 cot. 
 
 "Very well," said Dona Leocadia, "there 
 is no need of making such a noise about it. 
 The men may go. Everybody out into the 
 street, and leave us alone ! Away with you, 
 too, Augustine my son, and God preserve 
 you in the midst of this inferno." 
 
 " We must carry twenty sacks of flour from 
 the Convent of Trinitarios to the headquarters 
 of supplies," said Montoria. " Come, let us 
 all go." 
 
 And when we were in the street, he added, 
 " The numbers of people in Saragossa will 
 soon make half rations necessary. It is true, 
 my friends, that there is much concealed pro- 
 vision, and although it has been ordered that 
 
 everybody declare what he has, many do not 
 8 113 
 
Saragossa 
 
 take any notice of the order, and keep what 
 they have to sell at fabulous prices. It's a 
 bad business. If I discover them, and they 
 fall into my hands, I will make them under- 
 stand that Montoria is president of the junta 
 of supplies." 
 
 We had reached the parish church of San 
 Pablo when we were met by a friar. Father 
 Mateo del Busto, who was coming with much 
 fatigue, forcing his feeble steps, and accom- 
 panied by another friar whom they called 
 Father Luengo. 
 
 " What news do your reverences bring us ? " 
 Montoria asked them. 
 
 " Don Juan Gallart has twenty pounds of 
 inlaid work which he places at the disposal 
 of the committee." 
 
 "And Don Pedro Pizueta, the shop-keeper 
 of the Calle de las Moscas, generously offers 
 sixty sacks of wool, and all the salt and wool 
 of his storehouses," added Luengo. 
 
 " But we have just been dealing with the 
 miser Candiola," said the friar ; " a battle 
 with which not even the Eras can compare." 
 
 " How is that ? " asked Don Jose, with 
 astonishment. " Has not that wretched nig- 
 gard understood that we will pay him for his 
 flour? He is the only citizen of Saragossa 
 
 114 
 
Saragossa 
 
 who has not given a penny for the provision- 
 ing of the army." 
 
 " There is no use in preaching to Candiola," 
 said Luengo. " He has said decisively that we 
 need not return there unless we bring him 
 one hundred and twenty-four reales for each 
 sack of flour, and he has seventy-eight of 
 them in his storehouse." 
 
 " Is there any infamy equal to his ! " ex- 
 claimed Montoria, letting loose a string of 
 porras, which I do not copy for fear of 
 wearying my reader. "What! A hundred 
 and twenty-four reales are necessary to make 
 that stingy piece of flint understand the duties 
 of a son of Saragossa in times like these ! The 
 Captain-General has given me authority to 
 take whatever provisions are necessary, paying 
 the fixed price for them." 
 
 " Do you hear what I tell you, Senor Don 
 Jose?" said Busto; "Candiola says that who 
 wants flour must pay for it. He said that if 
 the city is not able to defend itself, it must 
 surrender; that he has no obligation to give 
 anything for the war, because he was not the 
 one who brought it on." 
 
 " Let us go there," said Montoria, with 
 anger, which showed itself in his gestures, 
 his altered voice, his darkened visage. "It 
 
Saragossa 
 
 is not the first time that I have had that dog, 
 that blood-sucker, in my hands/' 
 
 I came behind with Augustine, who was pale 
 and downcast. I wished to speak with him, 
 but he made signs to keep silence. We fol- 
 lowed to see how this would end. We found 
 ourselves quickly in the Calle de Anton Trillo ; 
 and Montoria said to us, — 
 
 " Boys, go on ahead and knock at the door 
 of this insolent Jew. Force it open, if no one 
 opens it ; enter, and tell him to come down to 
 see me. Take him by the ear, but be careful 
 he does not bite you, for he is a mad dog and 
 a venomous serpent." 
 
 When we were walking on, I looked again 
 at Augustine, and saw that he was livid and 
 trembling. 
 
 " Gabriel," he said, " I wish to run away. I 
 wish that the earth would open and swallow 
 me. My father will kill me, but I cannot do 
 what he has commanded me." 
 
 " Come, lean on me ; then act as if you had 
 twisted your foot, and cannot go on." 
 
 This was done, and our other companions 
 and I began knocking at the door. The old 
 woman showed herself at the window, and 
 greeted us with a thousand insolent words. A 
 few minutes passed, and then we saw a very 
 
 ii6 
 
Saragossa 
 
 beautiful hand raise the curtain, permitting us 
 to see for a moment a face changed and pale, 
 whose great dark eyes cast terrified glances 
 towards the street. 
 
 At that moment my companions and the 
 boys who were following were crying in hoarse 
 concert, — 
 
 " Come down, uncle Candiola. Come down, 
 dog of a Caiaphas ! '* 
 
 Contrary to our expectation, Candiola 
 obeyed ; but he did it believing that he had to 
 do with the mob of vagabond boys who were 
 in the habit of giving him such serenades, with 
 no suspicion that the president of the junta of 
 supplies, and two others in authority, were there 
 to talk with him on a matter of importance. 
 He soon had occasion to know that this was a 
 serious matter, for at the opening of the door, 
 as he came running out with a cudgel in his 
 hand, and his ugly eyes glowing with wrath, 
 he came face to face with Montoria, and drew 
 back in alarm. . 
 
 "Ah, it is you, Senor de Montoria," he said, 
 with very bad grace. "How is it that you, 
 being a member of the committee of public 
 safety, have not been able to disperse this 
 rabble which has come to make this noise before 
 the gate of the house of an honorable citizen?" 
 
 117 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " I am not a member of the committee of 
 public safety, but of the junta of supplies, so 
 I come in search of the Senor Candiola, and 
 make him come down ; but I will not enter this 
 dark house full of cobwebs and mice." 
 
 " The poor cannot live in palaces like Seiior 
 Jose de Montoria, administrator of the goods 
 of the commune, and for a long time tax-col- 
 lector," replied Candiola. 
 
 " I made my fortune by work, not by usury," 
 exclaimed Montoria. " But let us make an 
 end of this. Senor Don Jeronimo, I have 
 come for that flour. These two good fathers 
 have acquainted you with our need of it 
 already." 
 
 " Yes, I will sell it, I will sell it," answered 
 Candiola, with a crafty smile ; " but I cannot 
 part with it at the price which these senors 
 indicated. It is too little. I do not part with 
 it for less than one hundred and sixty-two 
 reales for a sack of a hundred pounds." 
 
 " I do not ask your price," said Don Jose, 
 restraining his indignation. 
 
 " The junta may dispose as it likes with its 
 own ; but in my house no one sells anything 
 but myself," answered the miser. " And that 
 is all there is to say. Each one may do in his 
 own house as I do in mine." 
 
 ii8 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Come, look here, you blood-sucker ! " 
 exclaimed Montoria, catching him by the arm, 
 making him jump, " look here, Candiola of a 
 thousand devils, I have said that I have come 
 for the flour, and I will not go without it ! The 
 army of defence of Saragossa must not die of 
 hunger, porra ! and all citizens must contribute 
 to maintain it." 
 
 " To maintain it ! to maintain the army ! " 
 cried the miser, venomously. " Perhaps I am 
 the author of its being ? " 
 
 " Miserable pig, is there not in your black 
 and empty soul one spark of patriotism ? " 
 
 " I do not maintain vagabonds. What need 
 was there that the French should bombard us 
 and destroy the city ? You want me to feed 
 the soldiers. I will give them poison.'* 
 
 " Wretch, worm, blood-sucker of Saragossa, 
 disgrace of the Spanish people ! " exclaimed 
 my protector, threatening with his doubled 
 fist the miser's wrinkled face. " I would rather 
 be damned to hell forever than to be what you 
 are, to be Candiola for one minute. You black 
 conscience, you perverse soul, are you not 
 ashamed of being the only one in this city who 
 has refused all his resources to the patriotic 
 army of his country ? Does not everybody's 
 hatred of you for this vile conduct weigh upon 
 
 119 
 
Saragossa 
 
 you more heavily than if all the rocks of Mon- 
 cayo had fallen upon you ? " 
 
 " Stop your music and leave me in peace," 
 said Don Jeronimo, starting to the door. 
 
 " Look here, you unclean reptile," cried 
 Montoria, detaining him, " I have told you 
 that I am not going without the flour. If you 
 do not produce it with good grace, as every 
 good Spaniard does, you shall be made to give 
 it by force. I will pay you forty-eight reales 
 per sack, — its price before the siege." 
 
 " Forty-eight reales," exclaimed Candiola, 
 with an expression of rancor, " I will sell my 
 skin at that price before the flour. I would 
 pay more than that for it. The accursed mob ! 
 Shall they be supported by me, Seiior de 
 Montoria ? " 
 
 "You may thank them, miserable usurer, 
 because they have not put an end to your use- 
 less life. Does not the generosity of this peo- 
 ple surprise you ? In the other siege, while 
 we were enduring the greatest privations in 
 order to get money together, your heart of 
 stone remained insensible, and they could not 
 pull out of you one old shirt to cover the 
 nakedness of a poor soldier, or one piece of 
 bread to appease his hunger. Saragossa has 
 not forgotten your infamies. Do you not re- 
 
 I20 
 
Saragossa 
 
 member that after the battle of the fourth of 
 August, when the wounded were distributed 
 throughout the city, and two were assigned to 
 you, and rang at your door, it was not possible 
 for them to get their shadows into this wretched 
 door? On the night of the fourth they arrived 
 at your door, and with their weak hands they 
 rang for you to open to them ; but their moans 
 and suffering did not move your heart of brass. 
 You came to the door, and kicked them into 
 the street, saying that your house was not a 
 hospital. Unworthy son of Saragossa ! but 
 you have not the soul of a son of Saragossa. 
 You were born a Mallorcan, of the blood of a 
 Jew ! " 
 
 The eyes of Candiola shot fire. His jaw 
 quivered, and his fingers closed convulsively 
 upon the cudgel in his right hand. 
 
 " Yes, you have the blood of a Mallorcan 
 Jew. You are no son of this noble city. Do 
 not the moans of those poor wounded men 
 sound in your bat's ears ? One of them, who 
 was bleeding badly, died on this spot where we 
 are standing. The other managed to creep to 
 the market, where he told of what had hap- 
 pened. Infamous scarecrow ! Do you sup- 
 pose that the people of Saragossa are going to 
 forget the morning of the fifth ? Candiola, 
 
 121 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Candlolllla, give me that flour, and we will 
 close this transaction in peace." 
 
 " Montoria, Montorilla," repHed the other, 
 " niy ground and my work will not go to 
 fatten idle vagabonds. Ya ! Talk to me of 
 charity and generosity and the needs of the 
 poor soldiers ! I have heard enough talk 
 about those wretched sponges who are fed at 
 the public cost. The committee of supplies 
 will have no chance to laugh at me. As if 
 we did not understand all this music about 
 'succor of the army.' Montoria, Montorilla, 
 you have a little dough in your own house, 
 is n't that true ? Good dough can be found in 
 the ovens of every patriot, made of the flour 
 given by the foolish blockheads that the com- 
 mittee of supplies knows. Forty-eight reales ! 
 A pretty price ! Then, in the accounts which 
 will go to the Captain-General it will be set 
 down as if bought at sixty reales, with a snap- 
 per of ' The Virgin del Pilar would not like to 
 be a Frenchwoman.' " 
 
 When he said this, Don Jose de Montoria, 
 who was already choking with wrath, lost his 
 stirrups, as the saying is, and powerless to 
 contain his indignation, went straight up to 
 Candiola, apparently to slap his face; but the 
 other had with one strategic glance foreseen 
 
 122 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the movement, and prepared to repel it. 
 Quickly taking the offensive, he threw himself 
 with a catlike spring upon my protector, grasp- 
 ing his neck with both hands and fastening 
 upon him with his strong and bony fingers, at 
 the same time making ready with his teeth, 
 as if he were about to take between them the 
 entire person of his enemy. 
 
 There was a brief struggle in which Mon- 
 toria strove to free himself from those feline 
 claws which had so suddenly made him their 
 captive ; but it could be seen in an instant that 
 the nervous strength of the miser could not 
 hold against the muscular strength of the Ara- 
 gonese patriot. He shook him off violently. 
 Candiola fell to the ground like a dead 
 man. 
 
 We heard the cry of a woman from an upper 
 window, and then the snap of a window-shutter 
 closing. In this dramatic moment I wheeled 
 about anxiously towards Augustine, but he had 
 disappeared. 
 
 Don Jose de Montoria, mad with rage, 
 kicked angrily at the prostrate body, stam- 
 mering thickly in his wrath. 
 
 "You dirty pick-pocket, enriched with the 
 blood of the poor, you dare to call me a thief, 
 to call the members of the committee of sup- 
 
 123 
 
Saragossa 
 
 plies thieves ! By a thousand porras ! I will 
 teach you to respect honest people, and you 
 may be thankful that I do not tear out that 
 miserable tongue of yours and throw it to the 
 dogs." 
 
 All this struck us fairly dumb ; but presently 
 we snatched the unlucky Candiola from under 
 the feet of his enemy. His first movement 
 was made as if to jump upon him again, but 
 Montoria had gone into the house, calling : 
 
 " Come, boys, we will go into the storehouse 
 and get the flour. Quickly, let us make haste, 
 quickly ! " 
 
 The great number of people who had con- 
 gregated in the street prevented old Candiola 
 from entering his own house. The gamins, 
 who had come running from all over the 
 neighborhood, took charge of him themselves. 
 Some pulled him forward, others pushed him 
 backward, tearing his clothing to shreds. 
 Others, taking the oflFensive from afar, threw 
 great chunks of street mud at him. In the 
 mean time a woman came to meet those of us 
 who had entered the lower floor where the store- 
 rooms were. At the first glance I recognized 
 the beautiful Mariquilla, altered and trembling, 
 wavering at every step, without power to stand 
 erect or speak, paralyzed with terror. Her 
 
 124 
 
Saragossa 
 
 fear was so great that we all pitied her, even 
 Montoria. 
 
 "You are the daughter of Seiior Candiola," 
 he said, drawing from his pocket a handful of 
 money, and making a brief reckoning on the 
 wall with a bit of charcoal which he picked up 
 from the floor. " Sixty-eight sacks of flour 
 at forty-eight reales is three thousand two 
 hundred and sixty-four. They are not worth 
 half that, for they seem to me decidedly musty. 
 Take it, child, here is the exact amount." 
 
 Mariquilla Candiola made no movement 
 whatever towards taking the money, and Mon- 
 toria put it down upon a box, saying, — 
 
 " There it is ! " 
 
 Then the girl with a brusque and energetic 
 movement which seemed, as it certainly was, 
 the inspiration of her off^ended dignity, took 
 the money, gold, silver, and copper, and threw 
 it as if it were so many stones into the face of 
 Montoria. The money was scattered all over 
 the floor, and rolled out of the door without 
 much promise of any one's finding it all in the 
 future. Immediately afterwards the senorita 
 went without a word into the street. She be- 
 held her father jammed into the crowd ; and 
 presently, aided by some young men, unable 
 to see with indifference a woman in distress, 
 
 1 25 
 
Saragossa 
 
 she freed him from the Infamous captivity in 
 which the boys held him. 
 
 The father and daughter entered by the 
 garden gate, as we were beginning to remove 
 the flour. 
 
 126 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WHEN we had finished carrying out the 
 flour, I went and looked for Augus- 
 tine ; but I could find him nowhere, neither 
 in his father's house, nor at the headquarters 
 of supplies, nor in the Coso, nor in Santa 
 Engracia. At nightfall I found him in the 
 powder mill near San Juan de los Panetes. 
 I have forgotten to say that the Saragossans had 
 improvised a work shop where were turned out 
 daily nine or ten quintals of powder. I saw 
 Augustine helping the workmen put into sacks 
 and barrels the powder made during the day. 
 He was working with feverish activity. 
 
 " Do you see this enormous heap of 
 powder?" he said to me when I approached 
 him. " Do you see those sacks and those 
 barrels all full of the same material ? Well, 
 Gabriel, it seems to me very little." 
 
 " I don't know what you are trying to say." 
 
 " I say that if this immense quantity of 
 
 powder were as big as Saragossa I should like 
 
 it still better. Yes, and in such a case I should 
 
 127 
 
Saragossa 
 
 like to be the only inhabitant of this great 
 city. What a pleasure! Listen, Gabriel! If 
 it were so, I would myself set fire to it, and 
 fly into the clouds, torn to pieces in the hor- 
 rible explosion like pieces of rock which a 
 volcano throws to a distance of a hundred 
 leagues. I would be hurled to the fifth heaven, 
 and of my members, scattered everywhere, there 
 would be no memory ! Death, Gabriel, death 
 is what I desire! But I desire a death — I do 
 not explain it to you. My desperation is so 
 great that to die of a gunshot or a sabre-thrust 
 would not satisfy me. I long to be rent 
 asunder, and diffused through space in a thou- 
 sand burning particles. I pant to feel myself 
 in the bosom of a flame-bearing cloud. My 
 spirit yearns, if only for an infinitesimal instant, 
 the delight of seeing this wretched body re- 
 duced to powder. Gabriel, I am desperate. 
 Do you see this powder ? Imagine within my 
 breast all the flames which this could make. 
 Did you see her when she went out to get her 
 father? Did you see her when she threw the 
 money? I was in a corner where I could see 
 it all. Mariquilla does not know that that 
 man who maltreated her father is my own ! 
 Did you see how the boys threw mud at poor 
 Candiola ? I realize that Candiola is a wretch. 
 
 128 
 
Saragossa 
 
 But she, what fault has she ? She and I, what 
 fault have we ? None, Gabriel. My heart is 
 broken, and thirsts for a thousand deaths. I 
 cannot live. I will run into the place of great- 
 est danger and fling myself into the fire of the 
 French. After what I have seen to-day, I 
 and the earth on which I dwell may not be 
 together." 
 
 1 drew him away from the place, taking him 
 to the walls ; and we went to work on the forti- 
 fications which were being made in Las Ten- 
 erias, the weakest point in the city since the 
 destruction of San Jose and Santa Engracia. 
 I have already said that from the mouth of 
 the Huerva to San Jose stretched a line of 
 fifty mouths of fire. Against this formidable 
 line of attack what avail was our fortified 
 circuit ? 
 
 The quarter of Las Tenerias extended from 
 the eastern part of the city, between the Huerva 
 and the old part of the town, perfectly outlined 
 yet by the wide road which is called the Coso. 
 It was at the beginning of this century a vil- 
 lage of mean houses, almost all inhabited by 
 laborers and artisans, and the religious houses 
 there had none of the splendor of the monu- 
 ments of Saragossa. The general plan of this 
 district is approximately the segment of a circle 
 9 129 
 
Saragossa 
 
 whose arc curves out to the open country, and 
 whose chord unites it to the city, from the 
 Puerta Quemada to the rise at the Sepulcro. 
 
 From that line to the circumference ran 
 several streets, some of them broken, like the 
 Calles de la Diezma, Barrio Verde, de los 
 Clavos, and de Pabostre. Some of these 
 were marked not by rows of houses, but by 
 walls, and lacking sometimes one thing and 
 sometimes another. The streets spread out 
 into formless little squares or yards or barren 
 gardens. I describe badly because in the days 
 I refer to the heaps of ruins left by the first 
 siege had been used to mount batteries and 
 raise barricades in points where the houses did 
 not offer a natural defence. 
 
 Near the fortification of the Ebro were some 
 remnants of an ancient wall, with various little 
 towers of masonry which some persons sup- 
 posed to be from the hands of the Romans, and 
 others judged to be the v/ork of the Moors. 
 In my time — I do not know how it may 
 be now — these pieces of wall seemed to be 
 mortised into the houses, or rather the houses 
 were mortised into them, appearing like props 
 and corners of that ancient work, blackened 
 but not crumbled by the passing of so many 
 centuries. The new had been built in a con- 
 
 1^0 
 
Saragossa 
 
 fused way upon the ruins of the old, as the 
 Spanish people had developed and grown upon 
 the spoils of other peoples of mixed bloods, 
 until they became as they are to-day. 
 
 The general aspect of the district of Las 
 Tenerias brought to the imagination pleasant 
 fancies of all that had taken place during 
 Moorish rule, the abundance of brick, the 
 long gable ends, the irregular fronts, the 
 window lattices with shutters, the complete 
 architectural anarchy, making it impossible to 
 know where one house ended and another 
 began, or of distinguishing whether this had 
 two floors or three, or if that roof served to 
 support the walls of that one over there. The 
 streets at best ended in yards with no ways out. 
 The archways, which gave entrance to a little 
 square, reminded me that here was a vista upon 
 another Spanish people, very different from 
 those now here. 
 
 This amalgamation of houses which I have 
 described to you, this suburb built up by 
 many generations of laborers and peasants and 
 tanners, according to the caprice of each, 
 without order or harmony, had prepared 
 itself for the defence on the twenty-fourth 
 and twenty-fifth days of January, at the time 
 when the French began to display their pomp 
 
 131 
 
Saragossa 
 
 of attack by placing forces on that side. All 
 the families living in the houses of this suburb 
 proceeded to build works according to their 
 own strategic instincts. There were military 
 engineers in petticoats who demonstrated a 
 profound knowledge of war by walling up 
 certain spaces and opening others to the 
 light, and for purposes of firing. The walls 
 of the eastern side were spiked along their 
 length. The turrets of the wall of Caesar 
 Augustus, built to resist arrows and sling 
 stones, now upheld cannon. 
 
 If any one of these pieces were turned upon 
 one of the neighboring roofs, the roof or the 
 entire house, whatever was there, would be 
 immediately blown to pieces. Many passages 
 had been obstructed, and two of the religious 
 edifices of the suburb, San Augustine and 
 Las Monicas, were veritable fortresses. The 
 wall had been rebuilt and strengthened ; the 
 batteries had been joined together, and our 
 engineers had calculated the positions and the 
 reach of the enemy's guns very well, in order 
 to accommodate our defences to them. 
 
 Our line had two advanced points, the mill 
 of Goicoechea and a house which, because it 
 belonged to a certain Don Victoriano Gonzalez, 
 
 has gone into history by the name of the Casa 
 
 132 
 
(TwV' 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 de Gonzalez. This line, running from the 
 Puerta Quemada, met first the battery of Pal- 
 afox, then the Molino, the mill, in the city, 
 then the garden of San Augustine ; it con- 
 tinued to the mill of Goicoechea, situated a 
 Httle out of the district, then to the orchard 
 of Las Monicas, and on to those of San 
 Augustine ; further up, a great battery and 
 the house of Gonzalez. This is all that I 
 remember of Las Tenerias. There was over 
 there a place called the Sepulcro, because of 
 its nearness to a church of that name. More 
 than one portion of the suburb, indeed, de- 
 served the name of sepulchre. I tell you no 
 more in order not to tire you with these descrip- 
 tive minutiae, unnecessary to one who knows 
 those glorious places, and insufficient for one 
 who has been unable to visit them. 
 
 ^>«-A-t 
 
 133 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 AUGUSTINE MONTORIAandlstood 
 guard with our battalion in the Molino } 
 until after nightfall, the hour when we were 
 relieved by the Huesca volunteers ; then we 
 permitted ourselves to be all night outside the 
 lines. But it must not be believed that dur- 
 ing these hours we strolled about hand in hand ; 
 for when our military services were over, there 
 were others no less onerous in the interior of 
 the city, where the wounded had already been 
 carried to La Seo and to the Pilar, — burning 
 houses to carry things out of, or materials to 
 carry to the friars, the canons, and the civil 
 officials, who were making cartridges in San 
 Juan de los Panetes. 
 
 Montoria and I went there by way of the 
 Calle de Pabostre. I walked along munching 
 a crust of bread with good appetite. My 
 companion, taciturn and gloomy, amused him- 
 self by throwing his to the dogs that we met 
 as we walked along. Although I exerted my 
 imagination in efforts to cheer his sad spirit, he 
 
 134 
 
Saragossa 
 
 remained dull and insensible to it all, replying 
 but sadly to my merry chatter. As we en- 
 tered the Coso, he said to me, — 
 
 " It is ten by the clock of the Torre Nueva. 
 Do you know — I wish to go there to-night." 
 
 " To-night you will not be able to go. Try 
 to stifle the flame of love in its ashes, while we 
 are threatened by those other burning hearts, 
 the flaming bombs which are coming to break 
 in the houses and among the people." 
 
 It was even so. The bombarding, which 
 had not ceased during all the day, was con- 
 tinued during the night, though with a little 
 less vigor; and from time to time projectiles 
 fell, augmenting the already large number of 
 victims within the city. 
 
 " I must go there this night," he said. " Did 
 not Mariquilla see me among all those who 
 crowded in front of the door of her house ? 
 Will she not think me one of those who abused 
 her father ? " 
 
 " I don't believe so. That young woman 
 would know how to distinguish between indi- 
 viduals. She has already made inquiries, and 
 now is no time for stolen sweets. Do you see ? 
 From that house coming this way are some poor 
 women in need of help. Look, one of them 
 is not able to creep further, and falls to the 
 
 135 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ground. Is it not possible that the Seiiorita 
 Dona Mariquilla Candiola has also gone to 
 care for the wounded at San Pablo or the 
 Pilar ? " 
 
 " I do not believe so." 
 
 " Or perhaps where they are making cart- 
 ridges ? " 
 
 "1 believe that still less. She would be in 
 her house, and there is where I wish to go, 
 Gabriel. You may go and see to the carrying 
 of the wounded, or to the powder, or whatever 
 you please, but I am going there ! " 
 
 As he said this, Pirli presented himself to us 
 in his friar's habit, already torn and hanging 
 in a thousand fragments, and on his head the 
 French engineer's helmet, badly battered, but 
 plated and plumed, and making our hero look 
 less like a soldier than a carnival figure. 
 
 " Are you coming to help carry the 
 wounded ? " he asked. "They have just killed 
 two more for us that we are carrying to San 
 Pablo. They need men there to open the 
 ditch where they are burying our dead of yes- 
 terday, but I have worked enough. I am 
 going to the house of Manuela Sancho to see 
 if I can get a snatch of sleep. But, first, we 
 are going to dance a little. Don't you want 
 
 to come along? " 
 
 136 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " No, we are going to San Pablo," I replied, 
 " to bury the dead. There is enough to do." 
 
 " They say that so many dead make the air 
 bad, and that is why there are so many ill of the 
 fever. That is finishing them faster than their 
 wounds, over by the other barricade. I would 
 rather have some ' hot cakes ' than the epidemic. 
 A ' senora ' would n't scare me, but a chill and 
 a fever would. So then you are going to bury 
 the dead ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Augustine, " let us bury the 
 dead." 
 
 " In San Pablo there are no less than forty 
 wounded," answered Pirli ; " and, at the rate 
 we 're going there, we '11 soon be more dead 
 than living. Don't you want a little diversion ? 
 If you are not going to work on the ditch, why 
 not come along to the cartridge factory ? All 
 the girls will be there, and from time to time 
 they will give us some singing, or cheer our 
 souls with a little dancing." 
 
 " We have no fault to find with all that. 
 Will Manuela Sancho be there too ? " 
 
 " No, the girls there are the young ladies of 
 Saragossa, the seiioritas who have been called 
 into service by the committee of safety. There 
 are a great many of them in the hospitals too. 
 They invite themselves for that service. And 
 
 137 
 
Saragossa 
 
 it would be a queer one who would use her 
 eyes so little as not to make a match for her- 
 self, if not for this year, then for next ! " 
 
 We heard the rushing sound of many foot- 
 steps behind us, and, turning, we saw a great 
 number of people, among whose voices we 
 recognized that of Don Jose de Montoria. 
 He was very angry at seeing us there, and ex- 
 claimed, — - 
 
 "What are you doing here, idiots ? Three 
 strong hearty men standing here with their 
 hands folded, when there is such a lack of men 
 for the work to be done ! Go along with you ! 
 Clear out of here ! March, you little tin 
 soldiers ! Do you see those two posts there 
 on the Trenque knoll with beams crossed on 
 top from which six ropes are hanging? Do 
 you see that gallows set up in that place for 
 traitors ? Well, it 's for loafers, too. Get 
 along to work, or I '11 show your carcasses 
 how to move with my fists." 
 
 We followed him until we came quite near 
 the gallows, where the six ropes were swaying 
 commandingly in the wind, ready to strangle 
 traitors or cowards. Montoria seized his son 
 by the arm, and pointed to the horrible ap- 
 paratus with an energetic gesture, saying, — 
 
 " Here you can see what we have been get- 
 
 138 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ting ready this evening. Look ! There 's 
 where those who do not do their duty will be 
 entertained. On with you ! I who am old 
 never get tired, but you young healthy men 
 act as if you were made of putty. The invin- 
 cible men of the first siege have almost all 
 worked themselves to death ; and we old men, 
 sirs, are obliged to set an example to these 
 dandies who if they miss dining for a week begin 
 to complain and beg for broth. I would give 
 you broth of powder, and soup of cannon balls, 
 you cowards ! Go, and see that you help to 
 bury the dead and carry ammunition to the 
 w^alls." 
 
 " And assist at the hell which this damned 
 epidemic is spreading," said one of those who 
 had accompanied Montoria. 
 
 " I don't know what to think of this thing 
 which the doctors call the epidemic," answered 
 Don Jose. " I call it fear, sirs, pure fear. 
 They take a chill ; then they have spasms and 
 a fever ; then they turn green, and they die. 
 What is all that but the effect of fear ? Our 
 strong men all seem to be gone, yes, seiiors. 
 Ah, what men those were in the first siege ! 
 Now when the soldiers have been firing and 
 been fired at for a trifle of ten hours, they 
 begin to fall down with fatigue, and say they 
 
 139 
 
Saragossa 
 
 can do no more. There *s one man who had 
 lost only a leg and a half who began screaming 
 and calling upon all the holy martyrs, begging 
 that they put him to bed. Nothing but cow- 
 ardice, pure cowardice ! To-day several soldiers 
 left Palafox's battery who had a good sound 
 arm apiece left to fight with. And they began 
 to beg for broth ! They had better drink their 
 own blood, which is the best broth in the 
 world. I say the race of men of courage is fin- 
 ished and done with, porra ! a thousand porras ! " 
 
 " To-morrow the French will attack Las 
 Tenerias," said the other. " If, as a result, 
 there are many wounded, I don't see where we 
 are going to put them.'' 
 
 " Wounded ! " exclaimed Montoria. " We 
 don't wish to see any wounded here. The 
 dead do not hinder us. We can pile them up 
 in a heap; but the wounded — ugh! Our 
 soldiers are no longer fearless, and I '11 wager 
 that those who are defending the best positions 
 will not risk seeing themselves decimated; they 
 will abandon them as soon as they see a couple 
 of dozen French heads above each rampart. 
 What feebleness! After all, 'twill be as God 
 wills, and as for the wounded and sick, we will 
 take care of them. Why not? Have you 
 taken many fowls to-day ? " 
 
 140 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Several dozens, of which more than half 
 were given, and for the rest we paid six reales 
 and a half. A few were not willing to give." 
 
 "All right. To think that a man like me 
 should occupy himself with fowls in days like 
 these ! What 's that you say ? Some were 
 not willing to give ? The Captain-General 
 authorized me to impose fines upon those who 
 do not contribute to the defence. We will 
 just gently get the law on those milksops and 
 traitors. Hark, senors ! A bomb fell then 
 in the neighborhood of the Torre Nueva. 
 Did you see it ? Did you hear it ? What 
 a horrible explosion ! I '11 wager that it is 
 Divine Providence more than the French 
 batteries that have sent it against the house 
 of that petrified, soulless Jew who looks on 
 with indifference and contempt at his neighbors' 
 distress. People are running that way. It 
 seems that the house is on fire, or falling down. 
 No, don't you run, you miserable fellows. 
 Let it burn, let it fall to the earth in a thousand 
 pieces. It is the house of the miser Candiola, 
 who would not give one peseta to save the 
 whole human race from a new deluge. Eh, 
 where are you going ? You are going to run 
 there too ? No, come along. Follow me ! 
 We can be of more use elsewhere." 
 
 141 
 
Saragossa 
 
 We were going in a crowd to the Orphanage. 
 Augustine, impelled no doubt by the beating 
 of his heart, suddenly started as; if to direct his 
 steps towards the Plazuela San Felipe, follow- 
 ing the great crowd hastening towards that 
 place. But detained forcibly by his father 
 he continued, though with bad grace, in our 
 company. Something was certainly burning 
 near the Torre Nueva, and on the tower the 
 precious arabesques and bricks shone redly, 
 because of the nearness of the fire. That 
 graceful leaning column could be distinguished, 
 crimson in the black night, and at the same 
 time from its huge belfry a great lamentation 
 fell upon the air. 
 
 We reached San Pablo. 
 
 " Go on, boys, loungers ! Help those who 
 are opening the ditch. It must be wide and 
 deep. It is a garment wherein they will enrobe 
 forty bodies." 
 
 We began upon the work, digging earth 
 from the ditch which was being opened in the 
 court of the church. Augustine was digging 
 with me, but at every instant he turned his 
 eyes in the direction of the Torre Nueva. 
 
 " It is a terrible fire. It seems as if it is 
 going down a little, Gabriel. I long to throw 
 myself into this grave which we are opening." 
 
 142 
 
Saragossa 
 
 *^ Don't be in a hurry/' I answered him. 
 " Perhaps to-morrow will throw us into it 
 without our asking. This is no time for fool- 
 ishness ; it is time to work." 
 
 " Do you not see ? I believe that the fire 
 is extinguished." 
 
 " Yes, the whole house has probably burned 
 down. Candiola was sure to be shut up in his 
 cellar with his money, and the fire could n't 
 reach him. Don't worry." 
 
 " Gabriel, I must go there, if only for a 
 moment. I wish to see if the fire was really 
 in his house. If my father returns, tell him 
 that I will be back in a second." 
 
 The sudden appearance of Don Jose de 
 Montoria prevented Augustine making the 
 flight which he had just planned, and we two 
 continued digging in the great sepulchre. 
 They began to bring out bodies ; and the 
 sick and wounded, who were constantly being 
 brought from without, saw, as they were taken 
 into the church, the wide bed which we were 
 preparing for them. At last the ditch was 
 sufficiently deep, and we were ordered to cease 
 digging. The work went on, and corpses 
 were brought, one by one, and cast into the 
 great sepulchre, while clergymen and pious 
 women upon their knees repeated the mourn- 
 
 143 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ful words of the service. There was room 
 enough for all, and nothing remained to be done 
 for them but to cover them with earth. Don 
 Jose Montoria, with head uncovered, reciting 
 in a low voice a paternoster, threw the first 
 handful. Then our shovels and spades began 
 with all speed to cover them. Our work 
 ended, we all knelt down, and prayed in hushed 
 tones. Augustine Montoria said to me when 
 this was done, — 
 
 " We will go now. My father will march 
 himself off. Go and tell him that we are 
 going to relieve two friends on duty who have 
 a sick one in their family and wish us to see 
 him. Tell him, for God's sake ! I have n't 
 the courage, then in an instant we can be 
 there." 
 
 144 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 WE deceived the old man and went. The 
 night was now far advanced, as the 
 interment which I have just described had 
 lasted more than three hours. The light of 
 the fire could no longer be seen. The mass 
 of the tower was lost in the darkness of night, 
 and its great bell did not sound except now 
 and then to announce the coming of a bomb. 
 We arrived soon at the Plazuela of San Felipe. 
 Seeing the roof of a house near the church still 
 smoking, we knew that it was this, and not the 
 house of Candiola, which three hours before the 
 flames had attacked. 
 
 " God has preserved it ! " cried Augustine, 
 joyously. " If the meanness of her father should 
 bring divine anger upon that roof, the virtues 
 and innocence of Mariquilla would preserve it ! 
 Let us go there." 
 
 In the Plazuela of San Felipe there were a 
 
 few people, but the Calle de Anton Trillo was 
 
 deserted. We stopped close to the wall of the 
 
 garden and listened attentively. All was in 
 10 145 
 
Saragossa 
 
 such deep silence that the house seemed aban- 
 doned. Could it really be abandoned ? Al- 
 though this quarter was one of those least 
 damaged by the bombardment, many families 
 had left it, or were living as refugees in their 
 own cellars. 
 
 " If I go in," said Augustine to me, " you 
 must come in with me. After the scene of to- 
 day, I am afraid that Don Jeronimo, suspicious 
 and cowardly, like a good miser, will be up all 
 night and about his garden, lest they return 
 and carry off his whole place." 
 
 "In that case it is better not to go in," I 
 answered, " because besides the danger of fall- 
 ing into the hands of that old scoundrel, there 
 would be a great scandal, and all Saragossa will 
 know that the son of Don Jose Montoria, the 
 young man destined for a bishop's mitre, goes 
 by night to see the daughter of the goodman 
 Candiola." 
 
 But this and all that I could say to him was 
 like preaching in the desert. Without listen- 
 ing to reason, and insisting that I should follow 
 him, he made the signal of love, waiting and 
 watching with great anxiety for the reply. 
 Some time passed, and at last, after long look- 
 ing and looking again from the pavement in 
 front, we saw a light in a high window. We 
 
 146 
 
Saragossa 
 
 heard the fastening of the gate drawn back 
 softly, and it was opened without creaking. 
 Love had taken precautions, and the ancient 
 hinges had been oiled. We two entered meet- 
 ing, unexpectedly, not a perfumed and fas- 
 cinating damsel, but a vinegary countenance 
 which I recognized at once as that of Dona 
 Guedita. 
 
 " He lets hours pass before he comes, and 
 then he comes with another," she grumbled. 
 " Young men, be so kind as to make no noise. 
 Walk on tip-toe, and be careful not to stumble 
 over even a dried leaf, because Seiior Candiola 
 seems to me to be very wide awake." 
 
 This she said to us in a voice so low that we 
 heard with difficulty ; then she went on before, 
 making signs that we should follow her, putting 
 her finger to her lips to enjoin absolute silence. 
 The garden was small. We soon crossed it, 
 and came to the stone staircase which led up 
 to the doorway of the house. Here there 
 came to meet us a shapely figure wrapped in a 
 mantle, or cloak. It was Mariquilla ! Her 
 first gesture was to impose silence, indicating 
 with anxiety, as I saw, a window which opened 
 upon the garden. She then showed surprise 
 that Augustine had not come unaccompanied. 
 But he knew how to soothe her, saying, " It is 
 
 147 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Gabriel, my best, my only friend, of whom I 
 have spoken so many times." 
 
 " Speak lower," whispered Mariquilla ; " my 
 father went out of his room a little while ago 
 with a lantern, and made the rounds of the 
 house and the garden. I doubt if he is asleep 
 yet? The night is dark. Let us hide in the 
 shadow of the cypress, and talk in a very low 
 voice." 
 
 The stone stairway led up to a kind of bal- 
 cony with a wooden railing. The great cypress 
 in the garden cast a deep shadow at the 
 end of the balcony, forming there a refuge 
 against the clear light of the moon. The bare 
 boughs of an elm spread above the other end 
 of the balcony, casting a thousand fantastic 
 shadows upon the floor, upon the walls of 
 the house, and upon ourselves. In the pro- 
 tection of the cypress, Mariquilla seated her- 
 self upon the only seat that was there, and 
 Montoria threw himself upon the floor beside 
 her, resting his hands upon her knees. I 
 seated myself also upon the floor not far from 
 the pair. It was a January night, still, dry, 
 and cold. Perhaps the two lovers with hearts 
 aflame did not feel the low temperature ; but I, 
 a creature stranger to their fires, wrapped my- 
 self in my cloak to keep myself from the chill 
 
 148 
 
Saragossa 
 
 of the tiles. Guedita had disappeared. Mari- 
 quilla led the conversation, plunging at once 
 into the difficulty. 
 
 " I saw you in the street this morning. 
 When Guedita and I heard the noise of the 
 people crowding about our gate, I went to the 
 window, and I saw you on the sidewalk in 
 front.'* 
 
 " It is true, I was there," replied Montoria, 
 with emotion, " but I was obliged to go at once. 
 I could n't stand it." 
 
 " Did n't you see how those barbarians were 
 trampling my father underfoot ? When that 
 cruel man struck him, I looked everywhere, 
 hoping that you would come forward in his 
 defence. But I did not see you anywhere." 
 
 " I tell you, Mariquilla of my heart," said 
 Augustine, " that I was obliged to go. After 
 they told me that your father had been so ill- 
 treated, I came as soon as I could get a 
 chance." 
 
 " A pretty time to come ! Among so many, 
 so many people," said Mariquilla, weeping, 
 " not one lifted a hand to help him. I nearly 
 died of fright, seeing him in such danger. I 
 looked anxiously into the street, and there was 
 no one but enemies, no one ; not one kind 
 hand or voice among all those men ! One of 
 
 149 
 
Saragossa 
 
 them, more cruel than all, knocked my father 
 down. Oh, oh, remembering this, I scarcely 
 know what happened next ! When I saw it, 
 my fright paralyzed me for a few moments. 
 Until then I never knew what violent anger 
 was, how a sudden impulse, an inward fire, 
 could drive me on. I came to him. My poor 
 father was lying on the ground, and the wretch 
 was trampling upon him as if he were a venom- 
 ous reptile. When I saw that, I felt my blood 
 boil in my veins. As I have told you, I ran 
 about the house, looking for a weapon, a knife, 
 an axe, anything. When I heard the cries of 
 my father, I flew down. Finding myself among 
 so many men, I felt a strange, uncontrollable 
 timidity, and could not stir a step. The same 
 man who had kicked him handed me a fistful 
 of gold. I did not want to take it, but I did; 
 then I threw all the coins into his face, with 
 all my strength. My hand was as if filled 
 with thunderbolts, and I felt as if I were aveng- 
 ing my father, hurling them at that villain. I 
 went out afterwards, looking everywhere for 
 you ; but I could not see you. I found my 
 father alone in that inhuman crowd, down in 
 the mud, begging for mercy." 
 
 " Oh, Mariquilla, Mariquilla of my heart ! " 
 cried Augustine in anguish, kissing the hands 
 
 150 
 
Saragossa 
 
 of the unhappy daughter of the miser. "Don't 
 talk any more about all that. You tear my soul 
 in two ! I could not defend him. I — I had 
 to go. I believed the crowd was after some- 
 thing — else. You are right. But let us talk 
 no more of this which grieves me so, and gives 
 me such bitter pain." 
 
 " If you had come to the defence of my 
 father, he would have felt gratitude towards 
 you. From gratitude one passes readily to 
 affection. You would have been received 
 openly in the house." 
 
 " Your father is incapable of affection for 
 
 L 
 
 any one," replied Montoria. " Do not hope 
 that we can accomplish anything in that way. 
 Let us trust that we may arrive at the fulfil- 
 ment of our desires by hidden ways, perhaps by 
 the help of God when it least seems likely. Let 
 us not depend upon aught else, or think of 
 what is before us. We are surrounded by 
 dangers and obstacles that seem unsurmount- 
 able. Let us hope for help from the unseen, 
 and filled by faith in God and the power of 
 our love, let us wait for the miracle which will 
 unite us. For it will be a miracle, Mariquilla, 
 a wonder like those they tell of in olden times, 
 that we refuse to believe." 
 
 " A miracle ! " exclaimed Mariquilla, sadly. 
 
 151 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " It is true. You are a young gentleman of 
 position, the son of parents who would never 
 consent to see you married to the daughter of 
 Senor Candiola. My father is abhorred all 
 over the city. Everybody flees from us. No 
 one visits us. If I go out they point at me, 
 and look at me with insolent contempt. Girls 
 of my own age will not associate with me, and 
 the young men of the city who go about 
 singing serenades under the windows of their 
 sweethearts, come to mine to utter insults 
 against my father, calling me also dreadful names 
 to my face. Oh, my God, I understand that 
 it would be indeed a miracle for me to be 
 happy ! Augustine, we have known each other 
 now for nearly four months, and you have not 
 yet told me the name of your parents. It 
 certainly cannot be as odious as mine. Why- 
 do you hide it ? If it were necessary that our 
 love should be made public, you would not 
 dare meet the looks of your friends, you would 
 flee with horror from the daughter of Candiola." 
 " Oh, no, don't say that ! " cried Augustine, 
 pressing against Mariquilla, and hiding his face 
 in her lap. " Don't say that I am ashamed 
 of loving you. In saying that you insult God. 
 It is not true. To-day our love remains a 
 secret, because it is necessary that it should be 
 
 152 
 
Saragossa 
 
 so. But when it is necessary to make it known, 
 I will make it known, and defy the anger of 
 my father face to face. Yes, Mariquilla, my 
 parents will curse me, and turn me out of 
 doors. A few nights ago you said to me, 
 looking at that monument which we can see 
 from here, * When that tower becomes straight, 
 I will leave off loving you.' I swear to you 
 that the strength of my love is more immov- 
 able than the equilibrium of yonder tower; 
 for that could fall to the ground, but could 
 never stand upright. The works of man are 
 variable, those of Nature are unchangeable 
 and rest evermore upon an everlasting base. 
 You have seen the Moncayo, that great rock 
 which is near Poniente in the suburb ? Well, 
 when Moncayo gets tired of being in that 
 place, and moves and comes walking towards 
 Saragossa, putting one of its feet upon our city 
 and reducing it to powder, then and then only 
 will I cease to love you." 
 
 By this sort of hyperbole and poetic natu- 
 ralism my friend expressed his great love, 
 flattering the imagination of the beautiful girl, 
 who responded, leaning forward, moved by an 
 impulse like his own. They were both silent 
 for a moment, then the two, or rather the 
 three of us, exclaimed all together, looking at 
 
 153 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the tower whose belfry had flung to the winds 
 two signals of alarm. At the same moment 
 a globe of iire ploughed the black space, 
 describing rapid circles. 
 
 " A bomb ! It is a bomb," exclaimed Mari- 
 quilla, trembling, and throwing herself into the 
 arms of her lover. The dreadful light passed 
 swiftly over our heads, over the garden and 
 the house, illuminating on its way the tower, 
 the neighboring houses, and the nook where 
 we were hidden. Then the report was heard. 
 The bell began to ring violently, and was 
 joined by others near and far, loud, heavy, 
 sharp, jangled ; and we heard the noise of feet 
 and voices of people in the nearest streets. 
 
 " That bomb will not kill us," said Augus- 
 tine, soothing his sweetheart. " Are you 
 afraid? " 
 
 " Yes, very, very much afraid," she an- 
 swered. " I spend the nights praying, asking 
 God to keep the fire away from our house. 
 Until now no misfortune has come near us, 
 either now or in the other siege. But how 
 many unhappy ones have perished, how many 
 houses of good people who never harmed any 
 one have been destroyed by the flames! I 
 long earnestly to go like other women and 
 take care of the suffering; but my father for- 
 
 ^54 
 
Sarao;ossa 
 
 bids me, and is angry with me whenever I 
 propose it." 
 
 As she said this, we heard within the house 
 a distant sound of talking, in which the harsh 
 tones of Candiola were mingled with the voice 
 of Guedita. We three, obeying one impulse, 
 drew into the shadow and held our breaths, 
 fearing to be surprised. Then we heard the 
 voice of the miser coming nearer, and saying, — 
 
 " What are you doing up at this hour, 
 Senora Guedita ? " 
 
 " Senor," answered the old woman, showing 
 herself at a window which opened upon the 
 balcony, " who can sleep during this dreadful 
 bombardment ? Perhaps a bomb may come 
 and meddle with us here. What if the house 
 should take fire, and the neighbors should come 
 to drag out the furniture and put out the fire, 
 and find us in our night-clothes ? Oh, what 
 a lack of modesty ! I do not intend to undress 
 myself while this devilish bombardment lasts." 
 
 " Is my daughter asleep ? " asked Candiola, 
 appearing at another garden window. 
 
 " She is upstairs sleeping like a kitten," 
 replied the duenna. " They speak truly when 
 they say that there are no dangers for inno- 
 cence. A bomb does not frighten the child 
 any more than a sky-rocket." 
 
 155 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " I wonder if I can see from here where the 
 projectile has fallen/* said Candiola, stretching 
 his body out of the window, in order to be 
 able to extend his range of vision. " I can 
 see the light of a fire, but I cannot say whether 
 it is near or far." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know anything about bombs,'* 
 said Guedita, who had come out on the bal- 
 cony. " This one has fallen over there by 
 the market." 
 
 " So it seems. If only all would fall upon 
 the houses of those who persist in keeping up 
 the defence and causing the destruction ! If 
 I am not deceived, Senora Guedita, the fire is 
 near the Calle de la Triperia. Are not the 
 storehouses of the junta of supplies over 
 there ? Oh, blessed bomb, why not fall into 
 the Calle de la Hilarza, upon the house of 
 that cursed, most miserable thief! Senora 
 Guedita, I am going to the Calle de la 
 Hilarza, to see if it has fallen on the 
 house of that proud, meddlesome, cowardly 
 thief, Don Jose de Montoria. I have prayed 
 for it to-night to the Virgin del Pilar with so 
 much fervor, and also at the Santas Masas 
 and at Santo Dominguito del Val, that at 
 last I believe I have been heard." 
 
 " Senor Don Jeronimo," said the old 
 
 X56 
 
Saragossa 
 
 woman, " do not go out ! The cold of the 
 night is bad for you, and it is not worth 
 risking your lungs to see where the bomb 
 has fallen. It is enough that it has not 
 meddled with this house. If that one which 
 passed did not fall into the house of that 
 barbarian of an official, another will fall to- 
 morrow. The French have a good handful. 
 Now, your honor, go to rest. I will stay up 
 and look after the house." 
 
 Candiola changed his mind about going out, 
 it seemed, in accordance with the good coun- 
 sels of his servant, and, shutting the window, 
 he was heard no more during all the rest of 
 the night. But although he disappeared, the 
 lovers did not break the silence, fearful of 
 being overheard. And not until the old 
 woman came to tell us that the senor was 
 snoring like a peasant was the interrupted 
 dialogue continued. 
 
 " My father wished that the bombs would 
 fall upon the house of his enemy," said Mari- 
 quilla. " I should not like to see them fall 
 anywhere ; but if at any time one could wish 
 ill-fortune to a neighbor, it would be now, do 
 you not think so ? " 
 
 Augustine made no answer. 
 
 "You went away. You did not see how 
 
 157 
 
Saragossa 
 
 that man, the most cruel, the most cowardly 
 of all who came, knocked him down in his 
 blind fury, and trampled upon him. The 
 fiends will kick his soul in hell like that, 
 won't they ? " 
 
 ''Yes," replied the young man, laconically. 
 
 " To-day, after it all, Guedita and I dressed 
 the wounds of my father. He was stretched 
 upon his bed, crazy, desperate. He was twist- 
 ing about, gnawing his fists and lamenting that 
 he was not stronger than his enemy. We 
 tried to console him, but he told us to be 
 silent. He struck me in the face, he was 
 so angry when he heard that I had thrown 
 away the money for the flour. He was furi- 
 ous with me. He told me that since he 
 could not get any more, the three thousand 
 reales on account should not be despised. He 
 said that I am a spendthrift, and am ruining 
 him. We could not calm him in any way. 
 Towards nightfall we heard another noise in 
 the street, and were afraid that the same ones 
 who were here in the middle of the day were 
 returning. My father was raging, and deter- 
 mined to get up. I was greatly frightened ; 
 but I took courage, realizing that courage was 
 necessary. Thinking of you, I said, ' If he 
 were in the house, no one would dare insult 
 
 158 
 
Saragossa 
 
 us.' As the noise in the street increased, I 
 plucked up all my courage. I shut and fast- 
 ened the doors and gates, and, begging my 
 father to keep quiet in his bed, I waited, 
 resolved. While Guedita was on her knees, 
 praying to all the saints in heaven, I searched 
 the house for a weapon. At last I found a 
 big knife. The sight of it has always fright- 
 ened me, but to-day I clutched it fearlessly. 
 Oh, I was beside myself! Now the very 
 thought of it makes me frightened. I am 
 usually unable to look upon a wounded man, 
 and tremble at the sight of a drop of blood. 
 I almost cry if I see any one beat a dog before 
 me. I have never had the force to kill a mos- 
 quito. But this evening, Augustine, this even- 
 ing, when I heard the noise in the street, when 
 I thought those blows upon the gate had come 
 again, when I expected every moment to see 
 those men before me, I swear to you that if 
 that had happened which I feared, if when I 
 w^as in my father's room, by his bedside, if 
 that same man had come who abused him a 
 few hours before, I svv^ear to you that there 
 I myself would have struck him through the 
 heart." 
 
 " Hush, for God's sake ! " cried Montoria, 
 horrified. "You frighten me. Hearing you, 
 
 159 
 
Saragossa 
 
 you almost make me feel as if your own hands, 
 these divine hands, struck cold steel through 
 my breast. Nobody will maltreat your father 
 again. You see already that your alarm of to- 
 night was nothing but fright. No, you would 
 not have been capable of what you say. You 
 are a woman, and a weak one, sensitive, timid, 
 incapable of killing a man, unless you kill him 
 of love. The knife would have fallen from 
 your hands, and you would not have stained 
 their purity with the blood of a fellow being. 
 These horrible things are only for us men, 
 born for conflict ; sometimes we find ourselves 
 in the sad strait of wrenching the life from 
 other men. Mariquilla, do not talk any more 
 nonsense. Do not think of those who offended 
 you ! Forgive them, and do not kill any one, 
 even in thought.'* 
 
 1 60 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WHILE they were talking, I observed 
 the face of Mariquilla, which seemed 
 in the darkness as if modelled of white wax, 
 and of the soft tone and finish of ivory. From 
 her black eyes, whenever she raised them to the 
 heavens, swift lights flashed ; her black pupils 
 seemed to reflect the clearness of the sky ; in 
 their depths two points of brightness shone or 
 were hidden, according to the changeful mood 
 expressed in her glance. It was curious to 
 observe the passionate creature telling of that 
 stormy crisis which had moved and exalted her 
 sensibilities to the heights of courage. Her 
 languorous attitude, her dove-like cooing, the 
 warm afl'ection which radiated in her atmos- 
 phere, did not associate themselves readily 
 with manifestations of heroism in defence of 
 her insulted father. Attentive observation 
 easily discovered that both currents flowed 
 from the same source. 
 
 " I admire your noble filial affection," said 
 Augustine. " But you must think of this. I 
 II i6i 
 
Saragossa 
 
 do not exonerate those who maltreated your 
 father. But you must not forget that he is 
 the only one who has not given anything for 
 the war. Don Jeronimo is an excellent person, 
 but he has not an atom of patriotism in his 
 soul. The misfortunes of the city are of no 
 consequence to him, and he even seems to 
 rejoice when we do not come out victorious." 
 
 Mariquilla sighed, lifting her eyes to heaven. 
 
 " It is true," she said ; " every day and every 
 hour I beseech him to give something for the 
 war. I am able to get nothing; although I 
 exaggerate the necessities of the poor soldiers, 
 and the bad record that he is making in Sara- 
 gossa. He only gets angry with me, and says 
 that the one who brought on the war is the one 
 to pay for it. In the other siege I was de- 
 lighted at news of a victory. The fourth of 
 August I went out into the street all alone, 
 unable to resist my curiosity. One night I 
 was at the house of the Urries, and they were 
 celebrating the battle of that day, which had 
 been very brilliant. I also began to rejoice, 
 and show enthusiasm. An old woman who 
 was present said to me in a high voice, and a 
 very unpleasant tone, ' My child, instead of 
 indulging in these emotions, why do you not 
 carry to the hospital an old sheet to stanch 
 
 162 
 
Saragossa 
 
 blood ? In the house of Seiior Candiola, 
 whose cellars are full of money, is there not 
 some old rag to give to the wounded ? Your 
 miserable papa is the only one, the only one 
 of all the citizens of Saragossa who has not 
 given anything for the war.' Everybody 
 laughed on hearing this ; but I was dumb with 
 shame, not daring to speak. I remained in a 
 corner of the room until the end of the party, 
 and nobody spoke another word to me. My 
 few girl friends who used to love me so much 
 did not come near me. I could hear people 
 speak from time to time the name of my father, 
 with harsh comments and ugly nicknames. 
 Oh, it was heartbreaking ! When I started to 
 come home, they hardly told me good-bye. 
 The host and hostess dismissed me very 
 abruptly. I came home and went to bed, and 
 cried all night. The shame of it seemed 
 burning in my blood." 
 
 " Mariquilla," cried Augustine, lovingly, 
 " your goodness is so great that because of it 
 God will forget the cruelties of your father." 
 
 " A few days afterwards," she went on, " on 
 the fourth of August, those two wounded men 
 came that my father's enemy spoke of this 
 morning. When we heard that the commit- 
 tee had assigned two wounded men to our 
 
 163 
 
Saragossa 
 
 house to be taken care of, Guedlta and I were 
 delighted, and, wild with pleasure, began to 
 prepare beds, bandages, and lint. We were 
 waiting for them anxiously, running to the 
 window every minute to see if they were coming. 
 At last they came. My father, who had just 
 come in from the street in a very black mood, 
 complaining that many of his debtors had been 
 killed, losing him all hope of collecting from 
 them, received the wounded soldiers very 
 badly. I embraced him, weeping, and begged 
 him to take them in ; but he would not listen 
 to me and in his blind anger, he pushed them 
 down into the gutter, barred the door, and 
 went upstairs, saying, ' Let their own par- 
 ents take care of them ! ' It was night. 
 Guedita and I were in perfect despair. We 
 did not know what to do. We could hear the 
 moans of those two poor fellows, dragging 
 themselves along in the street, begging for 
 help. My father shut himself up in his room 
 to make up his accounts, caring nothing for 
 them or for us. We went softly, so that he 
 would not hear us, to the front window, and 
 threw them cloths for bandages ; but they 
 could not reach them. We spoke to them, 
 and they held out their hands to us. We 
 fastened a little basket to the end of a cane, and 
 
 164 
 
Saragossa 
 
 passed them out some food; but one of them was 
 dying, and the other suffering so much that he 
 could not eat. We said what we could to en- 
 courage them, and prayed to God for them. At 
 last we resolved to come down and go out to help 
 them, if only for a moment. My father caught 
 us here in the balcony, and was furious. That 
 night, what a night ! O Holy Virgin ! one of 
 them died in the street, and the other one 
 dragged himself on to find pity elsewhere." 
 
 Augustine and I were silent, reflecting upon 
 the monstrous contradictions of that house. 
 
 " Mariquilla," my friend said, presently, 
 " how proud I am of loving you ! Saragossa 
 does not know your heart of gold, and it must 
 be known. I wish to tell the whole world that 
 I love you, and prove to my parents when 
 they know it that I have made a good choice." 
 
 " I am like any other girl," said Mariquilla, 
 with humility ; " and your parents will not see 
 in me anything but the daughter of the one whom 
 they call the Mallorcan Jew. Oh, the shame 
 kills me ! I wish I could go av/ay from Sara- 
 gossa, somewhere that I could never again see 
 any of these people. My father came from 
 Palma, it is true ; but he is not a Jew. He is 
 descended from the old Christians ; and my 
 mother was a woman of Aragon, of the Rincon 
 
 165 
 
Saragossa 
 
 family. Why are we despised ? What have 
 we done? " 
 
 Mariquilla's lips quivered in a half disdain- 
 ful smile. Augustine, tormented doubtless by 
 painful feeling, remained silent, his brow leant 
 upon the hands of his sweetheart. Gruesome 
 shapes of dread raised themselves threateningly 
 between them. With the eyes of the soul he 
 and she beheld them, filled with fear. After 
 a long pause, Augustine lifted his face. 
 
 " Mariquilla, why are you silent? Tell me.'* 
 " Why are you silent, Augustine ? '' 
 " What are you thinking about ? " 
 " What are you thinking about ? " 
 " I am thinking that God will protect us,'* 
 said the young man. " When the siege is 
 ended, we will marry. If you wish to leave 
 Saragossa, I will go with you wherever you 
 wish to go. Has your father ever spoken to 
 you of marriage?" 
 " Never." 
 
 " He shall not prevent your marrying me. 
 My parents will oppose it ; but my mind is 
 made up. I do not understand life except 
 through you, and if I lost you I could not 
 exist. You are the supreme necessity of my 
 soul. Without you I should be like the uni- 
 verse without light. No human power shall 
 
 i66 
 
Saragossa 
 
 separate us as long as you love me. This 
 conviction is so rooted in me that if I should 
 ever think that we must be separated in life, 
 it would be to me as if all nature were over- 
 thrown. / without jyo^^/ That seems to me 
 the wildest of ideas. I without you ! What 
 madness, what absurdity ! It is like the sea 
 on the top of the mountains, like the snow in 
 the depths of the ocean. It is like rivers 
 running through the sky, and the stars made 
 into fiery powder in the deserts of the earth. 
 It is as if the trees should talk, and man 
 should live among metals and precious stones 
 in the bowels of the earth. I am a coward 
 at times, and I tremble, thinking of the 
 obstacles that seem overwhelming before us ; 
 but the confidence that fills my spirit, like faith 
 in holy things, reanimates me. If sometimes 
 for a moment I fear death, afterwards a secret 
 voice tells me that I shall not die as long as 
 you are alive. Do you see all the destruction 
 made by the siege which we are enduring ? 
 Do you see how the bombs and shells shower 
 about us, and how numbers of my companions 
 fall never to rise ? Yet, except momentaril y, none 
 of this causes me any fear. I believe that the 
 Virgin del Pilar keeps death away from me. 
 
 Your sensitiveness keeps you in constant com- 
 
 167 
 
Saragossa 
 
 munion with the angels of heaven. You are an 
 angel of heaven, and loving you and being 
 loved by you gives me a divine power against 
 which the forces of man avail nothing." 
 
 Augustine went on for a long time in this 
 strain, pouring out from his over-flowing fancy 
 the love and the superstitions which held him 
 in thrall. 
 
 " Indeed, I too have unchanging confidence, 
 as you say,*' said Mariquilla. " I am often 
 afraid that you will be killed ; but I know not 
 what voices I hear in the depths of my soul 
 telling me that they will not kill you. It may 
 be because I pray so much, pleading with God 
 to preserve your life among all these horrors 
 and in battle. I do not know. At night 
 when I go to rest, thinking of the bombs that 
 have fallen, and those that are falling, and those 
 that will fall, I go to sleep and dream of battle, 
 and never cease hearing the noise of cannon. 
 I am very restless, and Guedita, who sleeps 
 near me, says that I talk in my sleep, saying a 
 thousand mad things. I must certainly say 
 something, for I am always dreaming. I see 
 you on the wall. I talk with you, and you 
 answer me. The balls do not touch you ; and 
 it seems to me it is because of the prayers I 
 say for you, waking and sleeping. A few 
 
 1 68 
 
Saragossa 
 
 nights ago I dreamed that I went with other 
 girls to take care of the wounded, and that we 
 were taking care of a great many, almost bring- 
 ing them back to life by what we were doing 
 for them. I dreamed that when I came back 
 to the house I found you here with your father, 
 an old man, who was smiling and talking with 
 mine, both seated upon the sofa in the sala. 
 Then I dreamed that your father smiled at me, 
 and began to ask me questions. Sometimes I 
 dream sad things. When I am awake I listen, 
 and if I do not hear the noise of the bombard- 
 ment, I ask if it can be that the French have 
 raised the siege. If I hear a cannonading, I 
 look at the image of the Virgin del Pilar which 
 is in my room, and I question it in thought, 
 and it answers me that you are not dead, with- 
 out my knowing how the answer is given. I 
 spend the day thinking about the ramparts, 
 and I wait at the window to hear what the sol- 
 diers say who pass by in the street. Some- 
 times I feel tempted to ask them if they have 
 seen you. Night comes ; I see you again, and 
 I am, oh, so contented ! The next day Guedita 
 and I occupy ourselves in cooking something 
 good, unknown to my father. If it is success- 
 ful, we save it for you ; if it is not quite so nice, 
 that little friar called Father Busto takes it to 
 
 169 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the wounded and sick. He comes after dark 
 to get it, on the pretext of visiting Doiia Gue- 
 dita, of whom he is a kinsman. We ask him 
 how goes the battle, and he tells us all about 
 it, that the troops are performing deeds of great 
 valor, and the French will be obliged to retire 
 in good time. This news that all goes well 
 makes us wild with joy. The noise of the 
 bombs saddens us afterwards, but praying we 
 recover our tranquillity. Alone in our room at 
 night, we make Hnt and bandages which Father 
 Busto also takes secretly, as if they were stolen 
 goods. If we hear my father's steps, we hide it 
 all quickly, and put out the light, because if he 
 should find out what we are doing he would 
 be very angry." 
 
 Mariquilla smiled almost gayly as she told 
 of her fears and joys with divine simplicity. 
 The peculiar charm of her voice is indescrib- 
 able. Her words, like the vibration of crystal 
 notes, left a harmonious echo in the soul. As 
 she ceased speaking, the first splendors of 
 dawn illuminated her face. 
 
 " The day is breaking, Mariquilla," said 
 Augustine, " and we must go. To-day we 
 are going to defend Las Tenerias. This will 
 be a dreadful day, and many will be killed. 
 But the Virgin del Pilar will protect us, and 
 
 170 
 
Saragossa 
 
 we shall live to rejoice in victory. Mariquilla, 
 the balls will not touch me." 
 
 " Do not go yet," replied the daughter of 
 Candiola. " Day is coming, it is true ; but they 
 do not need you yet upon the walls." 
 
 The bell in the tower sounded. 
 
 " Look how those birds cruise about in the 
 heavens, announcing the dawn," said Augustine, 
 with bitter irony. 
 
 One, two, three bombs traversed the sky, as 
 yet faintly illumined. 
 
 " How frightful ! " cried Mariquilla, yield- 
 ing to the embrace of Montoria. " Will God 
 keep us to-day as He preserved us yester- 
 day ? " 
 
 " We must go to the walls," I cried, rising 
 quickly. "Do you not hear all the drums and 
 bells sounding the call to arms ? " 
 
 Mariquilla, in indescribable panic, was weep- 
 ing and trying to detain Montoria. I was 
 resolved on going at once, and endeavored to 
 take him away with me. The noise of the 
 drums and the bells in the belfries of the city 
 were sounding the call to arms. And if we did 
 not rush instantly into the lines, we ran the 
 risk of being shot or arrested. 
 
 " I must go, I must go, Mariquilla," said 
 my friend, with profound emotion. " Are 
 
 171 
 
Saragossa 
 
 you afraid ? No, this house is sacred because 
 you live in it, and will be respected by the 
 enemy's fire. God will not visit your father's 
 cruelty upon your sacred head." 
 
 The Dona Guedita appeared abruptly, say- 
 ing that her master was up and dressing hastily. 
 Then Mariquilla herself hurried us to the foot 
 of the garden, ordering us to go at once. 
 Augustine was in anguish, and at the gate, 
 hesitated and stepped backward as if to re- 
 turn to the side of the unhappy girl, who, 
 half dead of fright, her hands folded in 
 prayer, was weeping, seeing us go from where 
 she stood in the shade of the cypress which 
 had sheltered us. At the moment when we 
 opened the gate, a cry was heard from the upper 
 part of the house, and we saw Candiola, who, 
 half-dressed, was leaning out in a threatening 
 attitude. Augustine wished to turn back ; but 
 I forced him forward, and we went. 
 
 " To the lines ! To the lines, at once ! " I 
 cried. " They will degrade us, Augustine ! 
 Leave your future father-in-law to deal with 
 your f iture wife for the present." 
 
 We ran swiftly into the Coso, where we saw 
 that innumerable bombs were being hurled 
 upon the unhappy city. Everybody ran as 
 
 fast as possible to the various positions of 
 
 172 
 
Saragossa 
 
 defence, — some to Las Tenerias, some to the 
 Portillo, some to Santa Engracia or to the 
 Trinitarios. As we arrived at the arch of 
 Cineja, we stumbled upon Don Jose de Mon- 
 toria, who, followed by some of his friends, was 
 running towards the Almudi. In the same 
 moment a terrible crash behind us proclaimed 
 that one of the enemy's projectiles had fallen 
 upon a neighboring residence. Augustine, 
 hearing this, turned back, longing to return 
 to the place from whence we came. 
 
 " Where are you going, porra ! " cried his 
 father, detaining him. " To the Tenerias ! 
 Make haste ! To the Tenerias ! " 
 
 The people who were coming and going 
 knew the place of the disaster, and we heard 
 them saying, — 
 
 " Three bombs have fallen close to the house 
 of Candiola." 
 
 " The angels of heaven certainly aimed those 
 guns," laughed Don Jose de Montoria, noisily. 
 " We shall see how the Mallorcan Jew keeps 
 them off, if he is still alive till he puts his 
 money in a place of safety." 
 
 '' Let us run and rescue those unfortunate 
 beings ! " cried Augustine, with emotion. 
 
 " To the lines, cowards ! " said his father, 
 holding him with an iron hand. " That is 
 
 173 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the work of women ; men must die in the 
 breach." 
 
 It was necessary to make haste to our places, 
 and we went, or rather we were carried by the 
 impetuous surge of the people running to 
 defend the suburb of Las Tenerias. 
 
 174 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 "HILE the cannons on the Mediodia 
 were throwing bombs into the centre 
 of the city, the cannon on the east side were 
 discharging solid balls upon the weak walls of 
 Las Monicas, and the fortifications of earth 
 and brick of the oil mill, and the battery of 
 Palafox. Very soon the French opened three 
 great breaches, and an attack was imminent. 
 They defended themselves in the Goicoechea 
 mill, which they had taken the day before, after 
 it had been abandoned and fired by us. 
 
 Certain of victory, the French ran forward 
 over the plain, having received orders to 
 attack. Our battalion occupied a house in the 
 Calle de Pabostre, whose walls had been spiked 
 along their whole length. Many peasants and 
 various regiments were keeping watch in the 
 Cortina, fiery of courage and with not the least 
 terror before the almost certain likelihood of 
 death, hopeful of being useful in death also, 
 helping to stay the enemy's advance. 
 
 Long hours passed. The French questioned 
 with the artillery to see if they were driving us 
 
 175 
 
Saragossa 
 
 out of the suburb ; the walls were gradually- 
 being destroyed ; the houses were being shaken 
 down with the dreadful concussion ; and the 
 heroic people, few of whom had broken fast 
 even with a bit of bread, were calling from the 
 walls, saying that the enemy was coming. At 
 last, against the right of the breach in the 
 centre advanced strong columns sustained by 
 others in the rear. We saw that the intention 
 of the French was to possess themselves at all 
 hazards of that line of crumbling bricks which 
 some hundreds of madmen were defending, and 
 to take it at any cost. Death-dealing masses 
 were hurled forward, the living columns pass- 
 ing over the dead. 
 
 Let it not be said to make our merit less 
 that the French were not fighting under cover. 
 Neither were we, for none of us could show 
 his head above the broken wall and keep it on. 
 Masses of men dashed against one another, and 
 bayonets were fed with brutal anger upon the 
 bodies of enemies. From the houses came 
 incessant fire. We could see the French fall 
 in heaps, pierced by lead and steel, at the very 
 foot of the ruins they were seeking to conquer. 
 New columns took the places of the first, and 
 in those who came after, brutalities of vengeance 
 were added to prodigies of valor. 
 
 176 
 
Saragossa 
 
 On our side the number of those who fell 
 was enormous. The dead were left by dozens 
 upon the earth along that line which had been 
 a wall, but was now no more than a shapeless 
 mass of earth, bricks, and corpses. The nat- 
 ural, the human thing would have been to 
 abandon such positions, and not try to hold 
 them against such a combination of force and 
 military skill. But there was nothing of the 
 human or the natural here. Instead, the power 
 of defence was extended infinitely, to limits not 
 recognized by scientific calculation, beyond or- 
 dinary valor. The Aragonese nature stood /■ 
 forth, and it is one which does not know how I 
 to be conquered. The living took the places N 
 of the dead with a sublime aplomb. Death 
 was an accident, a trivial detail, a thing of ) 
 which no notice should be taken. ^ 
 
 While this was going on, other columns 
 equally powerful were trying to take the Casa 
 de Gonzalez, which I have before mentioned. 
 But from the neighboring houses, and the 
 towers of the v/all, came such a terrible fire of 
 rifies and cannons that they desisted from their 
 attempt. Other attacks took place, with better 
 results for them, at our right, toward the or- 
 chard of Camporeal and the batteries of Los 
 
 Martires. The immense force displayed by the 
 12 177 
 
Saragossa 
 
 besiegers along one line of short extent could 
 not fail to produce results. From the house 
 in the Calle de Pabostre, close to the Molino 
 of the city, we were, as I have said, firing upon 
 the besiegers, when behold the batteries of San 
 Jose, formerly occupied in demolishing the 
 wall, directed their cannons against that ancient 
 edifice. We felt that the walls were trembling ; 
 the beams were cracking like the timbers of 
 a ship tossed by a tempest ; the wood of the 
 walls was cracking too in a thousand fragments. 
 In short, the place was tumbling down. 
 
 " Cuerno, recuerno ! '* exclaimed Uncle 
 Garces, "what if the house falls down upon 
 us ! 
 
 The smoke of the powder prevented us from 
 seeing what was going on without or within. 
 
 " To the street ! To the street ! " cried Pirli, 
 throwing himself out of a window. 
 
 " Augustine ! Augustine ! where art thou ? " 
 I called to my friend. But Augustine did not 
 appear. In that moment of alarm, not finding 
 either doorway or ladder to descend, I ran to 
 a window to throw myself out ; and the spec- 
 tacle which met my eyes obliged me to draw 
 back without strength or breath. While the 
 cannons of San Jose were essaying on the 
 right to bury us in the ruins of the house, and 
 
 178 
 
Saragossa 
 
 seemed to be accomplishing it without effort, 
 in front of and towards the gardens of San 
 Augustine, the French infantry had succeeded 
 at Jast in penetrating the breaches, kilUng those 
 unhappy creatures scarcely to be called men, 
 and finishing those who were already dying, 
 for indeed their desperate agony could not be 
 called life. 
 
 From the neighboring alleys came a horrible 
 fire. The cannons of the Calle de Diezma 
 took the place of those of the conquered bat- 
 tery. But the breach taken, the French were 
 securing themselves on the walls. It was im- 
 possible for me to feel in my soul a spark of 
 energy on beholding such stupendous disaster. 
 
 I fled from the window, terrified, — beside 
 myself. A piece of the wall cracked and fell 
 in enormous fragments, and a square window 
 took the shape of an isosceles triangle ; 
 through a corner of the roof I could see the 
 sky. Bits of lime and splinters struck me in 
 the face. I ran further in, following others, 
 who were saying, " This way ! this way ! " 
 
 " Augustine ! Augustine ! " I called again. 
 At last I saw him among those who were run- 
 ning from one room to another, going up a 
 ladder which led to a garret. 
 
 " Are you alive ? " I asked him, 
 
 179 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " I do not know ; it is not important," he 
 answered. 
 
 In the garret we broke through a partition 
 wall, and passing into another room, we found 
 an outside staircase. We descended and came 
 to another house. Some soldiers followed, 
 looking for a place to get into the street, and 
 others remained there. The picture of that 
 poor little room is indelibly fixed in my 
 memory, with all its lines and colors, and 
 flooded with plentiful light from a large win- 
 dow, opened upon the street. Portraits of the 
 Virgin and of the saints covered the uneven 
 walls. Two or three old trunks covered with 
 goat-skin stood on one side. On the other 
 side we saw a woman's clothes hanging upon 
 hooks and nails, and a very high but poor- 
 looking bed, although the sheets were fresh. 
 In the window were three large flower-pots 
 with plants in them. Sheltered behind them 
 were two women firing furiously upon the 
 French who occupied the breach. They had 
 two guns. One was charging, the other firing. 
 The one who was firing had been stooping to 
 aim from behind the flower-pots. Resting the 
 trigger a minute, she lifted her head a little to 
 look at the field of battle. 
 
 " Manuela Sancho," I exclaimed, placing 
 
 1 80 
 
Saragossa 
 
 my hand upon the head of the heroic girl, 
 " resistance is no longer of any use. The 
 next house is already destroyed by the bat- 
 teries of San Jose, and the balls are already 
 beginning to fall upon the roof of this. Let 
 us go." 
 
 She took no notice, and went on shooting. 
 At last the house, which was even less able 
 than its neighbor to sustain the shock of the 
 projectiles, quivered as If the earth trembled 
 beneath its foundations. Manuela Sancho 
 threw down her gun. She and the woman 
 who was with her ran into an alcove, where I 
 heard them crying bitterly. Entering, we found 
 the two girls embracing an old crippled woman 
 who was trying to get up from her bed. 
 
 " Mother, it is nothing," Manuela said 
 soothingly, covering her with whatever came 
 first to her hand ; " we are only going into the 
 street because it seems as if the house is going 
 to fall down." 
 
 The old woman did not speak. She could 
 not speak. The two girls had taken her In 
 their arms ; but we took her in ours, charging 
 them to bring our guns and whatever clothing 
 they could save. We passed out into a court 
 which opened into another street where the fire 
 had not yet reached. 
 
 i8i 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE French had taken possession also of 
 the battery of Los Martires. That 
 same afternoon they were masters of the ruins 
 of Santa Engracia and the convent of Trini- 
 tarios. Is it conceivable that the defence of 
 one plaza continued after all that surrounded 
 it was taken ? No, it is not conceivable ; nor 
 in all military prevision has it ever been sup- 
 posed that after the enemy had gained the 
 walls by irresistible superiority of material 
 strength, the houses would offer new lines of 
 defence improvised on the initiative of every cit- 
 izen. It is not conceivable that one house taken, 
 a veritable siege must necessarily be organized 
 to take the next one, employing the spade, 
 the mine, the bayonet, — devising an ingenious 
 stratagem against a partition wall. It is not 
 conceivable that one part of a pavement being 
 taken, it would be necessary to pass opposite 
 to it to put into execution the theories of 
 Vauban, and that to cross a gutter it would 
 be necessary to make trenches, zig-zags, and 
 
 covered ways. 
 
 182 
 
Saragossa 
 
 The French generals put their hands to their 
 brows, saying, " This is not like anything that 
 we have ever seen. In the glorious annals of 
 the empire one finds many passages like this : 
 'We have entered Spandau. To-morrow we 
 shall be in Berlin.' That which had not yet 
 been written was this : ' After two days 
 and two nights of fighting, we have taken 
 house No. I in the Calle de Pabostre. We 
 do not know when we shall be able to take 
 No. 2.'" 
 
 We had no time for rest. The two cannons 
 that raked the Calle de Pabostre and the angle 
 of the Puerta Quemada were left entirely with- 
 out men. Some of us ran to serve them, and 
 the rest occupied houses in the Calle de Palo- 
 mar. The French stopped firing against the 
 buildings which had been abandoned, repairing 
 them and occupying them as rapidly as they 
 could. They stopped up holes with beams, 
 gravel, and sacks of wool. As they could not 
 traverse without risk the space between their 
 new quarters and the crumbling walls, they 
 commenced to open a ditch and zig-zag from 
 the Molino of the city to the house which we 
 had occupied, and of which now only the low- 
 est story offered any lodgment. We knew that 
 when once masters of that house they would try, 
 
 183 
 
Saragossa 
 
 by tearing down partition walls, to gain posses- 
 sion of the whole block. In order to prevent 
 this, the troops which we could spare were 
 distributed through all the buildings in danger 
 of such attack. At the same time our troops 
 were raising barricades at the entrances of the 
 streets, availing themselves of the rubbish and 
 fragments in their work. We toiled with 
 frenzied ardor in these various tasks. The 
 fighting was least difficult of all. From inside 
 the houses we threw down over the balconies 
 all the furniture and movables. We carried the 
 wounded outside, leaving the dead to the same 
 fate as the buildings. Indeed, the only funeral 
 honors that we could pay them was to leave 
 them where they would not be disturbed. The 
 French worked also to gain Santa Monica, the 
 convent situated in a line with Las Tenerias, a 
 little to the north of the Calle de Pabostre; but 
 its walls offered a strong resistance, and it was 
 not as easy to take as the fragile houses which 
 the booming of the cannon caused to tremble. 
 The volunteers of Huesca defended it vigor- 
 ously ; and, after repeated attacks, the besiegers 
 left the assault for another day. Having 
 gained possession only of a few houses, they 
 remained in them when night came, like rabbits 
 in a warren. Woe to the head that appeared 
 
 184 
 
Saragossa 
 
 at a window ! The neighboring walls, the 
 roofs, the skylights were filled with attentive 
 eyes that saw the least carelessness of a French 
 soldier, and guns were ready for him. 
 
 When night came, we began to make holes 
 in the partition walls in order to open com- 
 munication between all the houses in the same 
 block. In spite of the incessant noise of the 
 cannon, we could hear within the buildings 
 the picks of the enemy occupied in the same 
 sort of work as ourselves. As the architecture 
 was fragile, and almost all the partition walls 
 were of earth, we had in a short time opened 
 passages between many houses. 
 
 About ten o'clock at night, we found our- 
 selves in one which we knew must be very 
 near that of Manuela Sancho, when we heard, 
 through unknown conduits, through cellars and 
 subterranean passages, a sound which we real- 
 ized must be the voices of the enemy. A 
 terrified woman came up a ladder and told us 
 that the French were opening a gap in the 
 wall of the room below. We descended in- 
 stantly. We were not yet all in the cold, 
 narrow, dark place, when at its mouth a gun 
 was fired at us, and one of our companions 
 was slightly wounded in the shoulder. 
 
 By the dim light we perceived several fig- 
 
 185 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ures that forced their way into the room, and, 
 advancing, fired, while others came behind. 
 At the noise of gunshots, our friends hurried 
 down to us, and we penetrated boldly into the 
 dark place. The enemy did not remain in it, 
 and as swiftly as possible hurried back through 
 the hole they had opened in the wall, seeking 
 refuge in the place whence they had come. 
 We sent some balls after them. We were not 
 completely in darkness, as they had a lantern 
 some of whose feeble rays came through the 
 aperture diffusing a reddish light over the 
 theatre of the struggle. 
 
 I have never seen anything like it, nor did 
 I ever behold a combat between four black 
 walls by the faint light of a lantern that cast 
 flickering shadows like spectres around us. 
 The light was prejudicial to the French ; for 
 we were on the safe, dark side of the hole, and 
 they were good targets for us. We shot at 
 them for a short time, and two of our com- 
 rades fell, dead or badly wounded, upon the 
 damp earth. In spite of this disaster, others 
 came to push the advantage, assaulting the 
 hole in the wall and penetrating into the 
 enemy's den. But although fire had ceased 
 there, it seemed as if the enemy were preparing 
 for a better attack. Suddenly the lantern went 
 
 i86 
 
Saragossa 
 
 out, and we were left in black darkness. We 
 looked about for the way out, and stum- 
 bled against one another. This state of things, 
 together with the fear of being attacked by 
 superior forces, or that they would hurl shells 
 into that sepulchre, made us huddle confusedly 
 into the outer court as soon as we found the 
 way. We took time, nevertheless, to find our 
 two comrades who had fallen during the fray ; 
 then we went out and shut up the aperture 
 with stones and rubbish and planks and bar- 
 rels, whatever came to our hands in the court- 
 yard. On going up, our commander detailed 
 men in different parts of the house, leaving 
 a couple of sentinels in the court to listen to 
 the blows of the hostile pick. He sent me 
 out with others to bring in a little food, of 
 which we were all much in need. 
 
 In the street it seemed to us that we had 
 come from a tranquil position into a very hell, 
 for now in the dead of night the firing was 
 continued between the houses and the walls. 
 The clearness of the moonlight made it easy 
 to run from one point to another without 
 stumbling, and the streets were constantly 
 traversed by bodies of troops and peasants who 
 were going where, according to the public 
 voice, there was some real danger. Many, not 
 
 187 
 
Sarao;ossa 
 
 in the lines, guided by their own instincts, ran 
 here and there, firing whenever opportunity 
 offered. The bells of all the churches sounded 
 a mournful call, and at each step we encoun- 
 tered groups of women carrying the wounded. 
 
 In all directions, especially at the extremi- 
 ties of the streets that ended at the walls of 
 Las Tenerias, bodies were seen stacked up in 
 piles, the wounded mingled with those already 
 corpses. It was not possible to tell from 
 which mouths came the pitiful voices that 
 implored aid. I have never seen such hor- 
 rible suffering. I was impressed more than 
 by the spectacle of the disasters caused by 
 iron and steel, seeing many who were suffering 
 from the epidemic lying on the doorsteps of the 
 houses, or dragging themselves through the 
 throng in search of a safe place. They were dying 
 every moment without having a sign of a wound 
 upon them. Their teeth chattered with the 
 dreadful chill, and they begged for help, holding 
 out their hands because they could not speak. 
 
 In addition to all this, hunger was demoral- 
 izing us. We could scarcely stand. 
 
 " Where shall we ever find something to 
 eat ? " Augustine asked me. " Who is going 
 to see about that ? " 
 
 " This thing must end soon in one way or 
 
 i88 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the other/' I answered ; " either the city will 
 surrender, or we shall all perish." 
 
 At last, near the Coso, we met some of the 
 commissary who were dealing out rations. 
 We took ours eagerly, taking also all that we 
 could carry for our comrades. They received 
 it with a great racket, and a sort of joviality in- 
 appropriate to the circumstances. But the 
 Spanish soldier is and always has been like 
 that. While they were eating some crusts 
 of bread as hard as cobble-stones, the unani- 
 mous opinion spread through the battalion that 
 Saragossa never would surrender, and never 
 should surrender. 
 
 It was midnight when the firing dwindled 
 down. The French had not conquered a 
 hand's breadth of earth more than the houses 
 they had occupied at sunset, although they 
 were not to be driven out of the quarters they 
 had taken. This was left for the days that 
 followed. When the influential men of the 
 city, the Montorias, the Ceresos, the Sases, the 
 Salameros, and the San Clementes were re- 
 turning to Las Monicas, the scene that night 
 of great prodigies of valor, they showed such 
 tremendous courage and uttered such contempt 
 of the enemy that it roused the spirits of all 
 who saw and heard them. 
 
 189 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Little has been accomplished to-night," 
 said Montoria. " Our men have been a bit 
 remiss. It is true that it was not possible to 
 drive them all out, nor ought we to have come 
 out into the open, though the French attacked 
 us with little energy. I have seen a few de- 
 feats, nothing of consequence. The nuns 
 have beaten up plenty of oil with wine, and 
 now it is only a question of binding up a few 
 wounds. If there were time, it would be well 
 to bury the dead in this heap, but there will be 
 more presently. The epidemic is getting hold 
 of more men. They need rubbing. Plenty of 
 rubbing is what I believe in. For the present, 
 they can very well go without broth. Broth 
 is an unpleasant beverage. I would give them 
 a dose of spirits. In a little while they would 
 be able to handle a gun. Well, sirs, the fiesta 
 appears to be over for to-night. Let us take 
 a nap for half an hour, and to-morrow, — to- 
 morrow, I have a notion that the French will 
 make a formal attack upon us." 
 
 He turned to his son, who had come up with 
 me, and cried out, — 
 
 " Oh, my Augustine, I have been asking 
 for you, because in such a battle as to-day 
 it happens that some must die. Are you 
 wounded? You have nothing the matter? 
 
 190 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Let us see, a little gun-scratch ? Ah, a trifle ! 
 It strikes me that you have scarcely borne 
 yourself like a Montoria. And you, Araceli, 
 have you lost any legs ? Not even that ! 
 The two of you have just come out from some 
 good shelter, I should say. You have not even 
 turned a hair. It 's a bad business. I call 
 you a pair of hens ! Go, rest awhile, not 
 more than a hand's shake. If you feel your- 
 selves attacked by the epidemic, rubbing and 
 plenty of it is the best thing. Well, sirs, we 
 depend upon it that to-morrow these houses 
 will be defended wall by wall, partition by parti- 
 tion. The same thing will go on in every part 
 of the city, and in every alcove there will be 
 a battle. Let us go to the Captain-General, 
 and see if Palafox agrees with us. There is 
 no other way, — either to deliver the city to 
 them, or to dispute each brick as if it were a 
 treasure. We will tire them out. To-day 
 six or eight thousand men have perished. 
 Now let us go and see that most excel- 
 lent Seiior Don Jose. Good-night, boys, and 
 to-morrow try and manage to shake off your 
 cowardice." 
 
 " Let us go and sleep a little," I said to my 
 friend. " Let us come to a house where I have 
 seen some mattresses.'' 
 
 191 
 
Saragossa 
 
 '^ I cannot sleep," said Montoria, walking 
 on along the Coso. 
 
 " I know where you are going. We are 
 not permitted to go as far as that, Augustine." 
 
 Many men and women were running up and 
 down, back and forth in the broad avenue. 
 All of a sudden a woman came running swiftly 
 to us and embraced Augustine, speechless, deep 
 emotion choking her. 
 
 " Mariquilla, Mariquilla of my heart ! " ex- 
 claimed Montoria, embracing her joyously. 
 "How is it that you are here? I was just 
 now going in search of you." 
 
 Mariquilla could not speak, and, without the 
 sustaining arm of her lover, her weak and 
 wavering body would have fallen to the ground. 
 
 " Are you ill ? What is the matter.^ Is it true 
 that the bombs have destroyed your house ? " 
 
 It was even so, and the young girl's whole 
 aspect showed her great distress. Her cloth- 
 ing was that which we saw on her the night 
 before. Her hair was loosened, and we could 
 see burns upon her poor bruised arms. 
 
 " Yes," she said, at last, in a stifled voice. 
 " Our house is gone. We have nothing. We 
 have lost everything. This morning, soon 
 after you had gone, a bomb destroyed the 
 house, then two others fell." 
 
 192 
 
Saragossa 
 
 
 And your father ? '* 
 
 My father is there, and will not abandon 
 the ruins of the house. I have been looking 
 for you all day, for you to help us. I have 
 been under fire. I have been in all the streets 
 of the suburb. I have entered several houses. 
 I was afraid that you were dead." 
 
 Augustine seated himself in a gateway, and, 
 sheltering Mariquilla with his military cloak, 
 he held her in his arms as one holds a child. 
 Freed thus from her terror, she could talk ; 
 and she told us that she had not been able to 
 save a single thing. They had scarcely had 
 time to get out of the house. The unhappy 
 girl was trembling with cold, and, putting my 
 cloak over Augustine's, we tried to take her to 
 the house where we were on duty. 
 
 " No," she said, " I must go back to my 
 father. He is wild and desperate, and is utter- 
 ing blasphemies against God and the saints. I 
 have not been able to get him away from that 
 which was our house. We are in need of food. 
 The neighbors were not willing to give us any- 
 thing. If you are not willing to take me 
 there, I will go alone." 
 
 " No, Mariquilla, no. You shall not go 
 there," said Montoria. " We will put you in 
 one of these houses where at least for to-night 
 13 193 
 
Saragossa 
 
 you will be safe. In the mean time Gabriel 
 shall go in search of your father, and take him 
 something to eat, and by persuasion or by 
 force will get him away from there." 
 
 Mariquilla insisted upon returning to the 
 Calle de Anton Trillo. But as she scarcely 
 had strength to move, we took her in our arms 
 to a house in the Calle de los Clavos, where 
 Manuela Sancho was. 
 
 194 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE firing of the guns and cannon ceased. 
 A great splendor was illumining the city. 
 It was the burning of the Audiencia. The 
 fire, beginning about midnight, was devouring 
 all four sides of that splendid edifice at one 
 time. Without heeding anything but my 
 errand, I hurried to the Calle de Anton Trillo. 
 The house of Candiola had been burning all 
 day. At last the flame had been stifled by 
 pieces of falling roofs, and between the portions 
 of walls still standing issued black columns of 
 smoke. Through the window-frames showed 
 patches of sky, and the bricks, crumbling away, 
 had made a ragged-toothed looking thing of 
 that which had been an architrave. Part of 
 the wall which fronted on the garden had fallen 
 down over the balcony, covering the end where 
 the railing and the stone stairway had been, its 
 stones spreading forward to the street wall. In 
 the midst of these ruins the cypress stood un- 
 harmed, like the life which remains when the 
 substance is gone. It raised its black head like 
 
 195 
 
Saragossa 
 
 a memorial. The gate had been destroyed by 
 the axes of those who had rushed up at first 
 to try to put out the fire. 
 
 When I penetrated into the garden, I saw 
 some people at the right and near the grating 
 of a lower window. It was the part of the 
 house which was best preserved. And, indeed, 
 the lower floor had suffered little, perhaps 
 nothing ; the bulging out of the roof of the 
 principal part had not affected this, although it 
 was to be expected that it would give way 
 sooner or later under the great weight. I 
 approached the group to find Candiola. He 
 was there, seated close to the grating with his 
 hands crossed, his head upon his breast, his 
 clothing torn and burned. He was surrounded 
 by a little crowd of women and boys, who 
 were buzzing about him like bees, pouring 
 forth the whole gamut of insults and taunts. 
 It cost me no great trouble to put the swarm 
 to flight ; and although they did not all go far 
 away, and persisted in hanging about, thinking 
 to get a chance at the gold of the rich Candiola, 
 he was at least freed from the annoyance of 
 their immediate presence, and the sneers and 
 cruel jests with which he had been tormented. 
 
 " Senor soldier,*' he said to me, "I am grate- 
 ful to you for putting this vile mob to flight. 
 
 196 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Here my house is burned and no one helps 
 me. Are there no authorities now in Saragossa, 
 senor ? What a people ! What a people ! 
 It is not because we have not paid our taxes." 
 
 " The civil authorities do not occupy them- 
 selves except with the military operations," I 
 answered him; " and so many houses have been 
 destroyed that it is impossible to run to them 
 all." 
 
 " May he be cursed a thousand times ! " he 
 cried, " a thousand curses be on the head of 
 him who has brought all this distress upon us ! 
 May he be tormented in hell for a thousand 
 eternities, and then he would not pay the pen- 
 alty of his crime. But what the devil are you 
 looking for here, senor soldier ? Are you not 
 willing to leave me in peace ? " 
 
 " I have come in search of Senor Candiola," 
 I replied, " in order to take him where he can 
 be looked after, have his wounds dressed, and 
 be given a little food." 
 
 " For me ? I will not leave my house," he 
 cried in a sad voice. " The committee will 
 have to rebuild it for me. Where do you 
 want to take me ? I am in the situation now 
 to be offered alms. My enemies have their 
 will, which was to put me in the position of 
 begging alms. But I shall not beg, no. I 
 
 197 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Will sooner eat my own flesh and drink my 
 own blood than humble myself before those 
 who have brought me to such a state. Per- 
 haps they have sold themselves to the French, 
 and prolong the resistance to earn their .money. 
 Then they will deliver the city, and they will 
 be all right." 
 
 " Do leave all those considerations for an- 
 other time!" I said. "And follow me now, 
 because it is not the time to think about all 
 that. Your daughter has found a place of 
 safety, and we will give you a refuge in the 
 same place." 
 
 " I do not move from here. Where is my 
 daughter ? " he asked anxiously. " She must 
 be mad not to stay beside her father in his dis- 
 tress. It is because she is ashamed, that she 
 deserted me. Curse her, and the hour when 
 I begat her ! Lord Jesus of Nazareth and 
 thou my patron. Saint Domenguito del Val, 
 tell me what have I done to deserve so many 
 misfortunes in the same day ? Am I not 
 good ? Do I not do all the good I can ? Do 
 I not favor my neighbors, lending them 
 money at low interest ? Suppose I do ask a 
 trifle of three or four reales on the dollar by 
 the month ? If I am a good man, exact and 
 careful, why is such distress heaped upon me ? 
 
 198 
 
Saragossa 
 
 I am thankful that I have not lost the little 
 that by hard work I have got together, because 
 it is in a place where the bombs cannot reach 
 it ; but the house and the furniture, and the re- 
 ceipts, and that which was left in the store- 
 house ! May I be damned, and may the 
 devils eat me, if when this is all over, and I get 
 together the little that I have here, I do not 
 leave Saragossa, never again to return ! " 
 
 " Nothing of all this is to the point now, 
 Senor Candiola," I said impatiently ; " come 
 with me ! '* 
 
 " No,'* said he furiously. " No, it would be 
 madness ! My daughter has disgraced herself. 
 I do not know why I did not kill her this morn- 
 ing. Until now I had supposed Mariquilla a 
 model of virtue and honesty. I delighted in 
 her companionship ; and out of every good deal 
 I set apart a real to buy her finery, — money 
 badly spent ! My God, dost thou punish me 
 for wasting good money on useless things 
 which if placed at interest would have been 
 tripled ? I had confidence in my daughter. 
 This morning at daybreak, I began by praying 
 with fervor to the Virgin del Pilar to free me 
 from the bombardment. I tranquilly opened 
 the window to see what the weather was. Put 
 yourself in my place, senor soldier, and you will 
 
 199 
 
Saragossa 
 
 understand my surprise and pain at seeing two 
 men right over there in that balcony, — two 
 men, sir. I see them now! One of them was 
 embracing my daughter. They were both 
 dressed in uniform. I could not see their 
 faces, for the light of day was yet faint. Hur- 
 riedly I left my room ; but when I descended 
 to the garden, the two were already in the 
 street. My daughter was dumb at seeing her 
 lightness discovered. Reading in my face the 
 indignation which such vile conduct roused in 
 me, she threw herself on her knees before me, 
 begging my pardon. ' Wretch ! ' I said in a 
 rage, ' you are not my daughter ! You are 
 not the daughter of this honorable man who 
 has never done wrong to anybody. Mad child, 
 shameless, you are not my daughter ! Leave 
 this place! Two men, two men in my house 
 at night, with you ! Have you not been mak- 
 ing it easy for those men to rob me ? Have 
 you not shown them this house where there 
 are a thousand objects of value which can be 
 concealed in a pocket? You deserve death. 
 If, — yes, — I am not deceived, those men 
 carried away something. Two men, two sweet- 
 hearts ! And receiving them at night and in 
 my house, dishonoring your father and offend- 
 ing God. And I from my room saw the light 
 
 200 
 
Saragossa 
 
 in yours, and believed that you were wakeful 
 and working. You wretched little thing, while 
 you were in the garden that light in your room 
 was wasting, burning uselessly. You miserable 
 woman ! ' Oh, senor soldier, I could not con- 
 tain my indignation. I seized her by the arm 
 and dragged her along to throw her out. In 
 my anger I knew not what I did. The 
 wretched girl begged my pardon, saying, ' I 
 love him, father, I cannot deny that I love 
 him.' My fury was redoubled at this, and I 
 cried, ^ Cursed be the bread that I have given 
 you for nineteen years, to invite thieves into 
 my house ! Cursed be the hour when yCu 
 were born, and the linens in which we wrapped 
 you on the third of February in the year '91 ! 
 Sooner shall the heavens fall, sooner shall the 
 Virgin del Pilar let me go from her hand, than I 
 will again be your father, and you be for me the 
 Mariquilla that I have so much loved ! * 
 
 " I had scarcely said this, senor, when it 
 seemed as if the very heavens were rent in pieces, 
 falling upon my house. What a terrible noise 
 it was ! A bomb fell upon the roof, and within 
 five minutes two others fell. We ran in ; the 
 flames were spreading hungrily, and the falling 
 of the roof threatened to bury us where we 
 stood. We tried in great haste to save some 
 
 201 
 
Saragossa 
 
 few little things ; but it was not possible. This 
 house, this house which I bought in the year 
 '87 for almost nothing, because the mortgage 
 on it was foreclosed against a debtor who owed 
 me fiVQ thousand reales with thirteen thousand 
 reales interest, — this house was fairly crumbling 
 to bits. Over there a plank fell ; over there a 
 pane of glass leaped out ; on the side yonder 
 the walls burst in. The cat yowled, and 
 Doiia Guedita fairly clawed me in the face as 
 we got out of the room. I ventured into my 
 own room to try to get some little receipts, and 
 came near perishing." 
 
 Candiola's distress and moral suffering made 
 it seem as if he had a nervous disorder. It 
 was plain to be seen that terror and grief had 
 completely upset him. His talkativeness was 
 not of the sort that soothes the soul, it was a 
 nervous overflow ; and although he appeared 
 to talk with me, he was in reality addressing 
 himself to invisible beings. To judge by his 
 gestures, they talked to him in turn. He went 
 on talking, and answering questions which his 
 imaginary interlocutors were asking him. 
 
 " I have said already that I shall not leave 
 this place while such a quantity of things which 
 can still be saved is not recovered. Indeed, 
 am I going to abandon my estate ? Are there 
 
 202 
 
Saragossa 
 
 no authorities in Saragossa ? If there are, then 
 a hundred or two workmen should be sent here 
 to remove this debris and take out something. 
 But, sefior, is there no one who has any charity 
 for, any compassion upon this unhappy old 
 man who has never harmed anybody ? Shall 
 one sacrifice all one*s life for others, and, com- 
 ing into such a plight as this, find no friendly 
 hand held out to help him ? No, no one 
 comes, or if they do, it is to see if they can 
 find any money among the ruins. Ha, ha, 
 ha ! " he laughed like a madman. " It is a 
 good joke on them. I have always been a 
 cautious man, and since the siege began I have 
 put my frugal savings in a place so secure that 
 I alone can find them. No, thieves ! no, 
 swindlers ! no, selfish ones ! — you would not 
 find a real, though you should lift every frag- 
 ment and break into bits the ruins of this house, 
 though you make toothpicks of all the wood 
 in it, though you reduce everything to powder 
 and sift it ! " 
 
 " Then, Seiior Candiola," I said, taking him 
 resolutely by the arm to lead him away, " if 
 your treasures are safe, what is the good of 
 staying here to watch them ? Let us go ! " 
 
 " Have you not understood me, you med- 
 dlesome fellow?/' he cried, loosing his arm 
 
 203 
 
Saragossa 
 
 forcibly ; " go to the devil, and leave me in 
 peace ! How do you suppose I am going to 
 leave my house when the authorities of Sara- 
 gossa have not sent a detachment of troops to 
 guard it ? Indeed ! Do you suppose that 
 my house is not full of valuable things ? How 
 can you think that I would go from here with- 
 out taking them ? You can see that this first 
 story is unhurt? By removing this grating, 
 it could be easily entered and everything taken 
 away. If I tear myself from here for a single 
 moment, the thieves will come, the refuse of 
 the neighborhood, and woe to all my work and 
 my savings then, to the furniture and utensils 
 which represent forty years of hard work. 
 Look on the table of my room, senor soldier, 
 and you will find a copper dish which weighs 
 no less than three pounds. That must be 
 saved at any cost. If the authorities would 
 send a company of engineers here, as it is their 
 duty to do — There is a table service in the 
 cupboard in the dining-room which must re- 
 main intact. By entering carefully, propping 
 up the roof, they could save it. Oh, yes, it is 
 absolutely necessary to save that set. It is not 
 merely that, senor. In a tin box are my 
 receipts. I hope to save them. There is also 
 a trunk where I keep two old coats and some 
 
 204 
 
Saragossa 
 
 shoes and three hats. All these things are 
 down here on this story, and are not likely to 
 be hurt. My daughter's clothing is all irre- 
 coverably lost. Her dresses, her jewelry, her 
 handkerchiefs, her bottles of perfume would 
 be worth a good sum of money if they were to 
 be had now. How could it be that all this 
 should be destroyed ? My Lord, what trouble ! 
 It must be true that God wished to punish 
 the sin of my daughter, and the bombs fell 
 upon her bottles of perfume. I left my waist- 
 coat upon the bed, and in the pocket there was 
 a peseta and a half And there are not even 
 twenty men here yet with picks and spades. 
 Just and merciful Heaven, what are the authori- 
 ties of Saragossa thinking about ! The double- 
 wicked lamp will not be ruined. It is the best 
 olive-oil burner in the world. We might find 
 it over yonder, by lifting carefully the fragments 
 of that corner room. Let them send workmen 
 here, and see that they do it quickly. How 
 can any one expect me to leave this place ? 
 If I should go, or if I should sleep for a single 
 instant, the thieves would come. Yes, they 
 will come, and take away that piece of copper 
 from Palma." 
 
 The obstinacy of the miser was so persistent 
 that I resolved to go without him, leaving him 
 
 205 
 
Saragossa 
 
 given over to his delirious anxiety. Dona 
 Guedita now arrived, walking hastily. She 
 brought a pick and spade, and a Httle basket in 
 which I saw some provisions. 
 
 " Senor," she said, sitting down tired and 
 breathless, " here 's the pick and spade my 
 nephew has given me. They will not need 
 them any more, because they are not going to 
 make any more fortifications. Here are some 
 half-spoiled raisins and some crusts of bread.'* 
 The old woman ate hungrily; not so Candiola, 
 who, despising the bread, seized the pick. 
 Resolutely, as if his body were suddenly 
 filled with new energy, he tried to unhinge 
 the grating ; working with eager activity, he 
 said, — 
 
 " If the authorities of Saragossa are not will- 
 ing to do their duty by me, Doiia Guedita, 
 between you and me, we will do it all ! You 
 take the spade and get ready to move the frag- 
 ments as I dig. Look out for the beams that 
 are still smoking. Look out for the nails ! " 
 
 I was trying to interpret the signs of intel- 
 ligence made me by the housekeeper, when he 
 turned to me, saying, — 
 
 " Go to the devil ! What business have you 
 in my house ? Get out of here ! We under- 
 stand you, — you have come to see if you can 
 
 206 
 
Saragossa 
 
 pick up anything. There is nothing here. 
 Everything is burned up." 
 
 There was certainly no hope of taking him 
 with me to Las Tenerias to set poor Mari- 
 quilla's mind at rest, and so, not being able to 
 stay any longer, I went. Master and servant 
 were working away with great vigor. 
 
 W. jTifV. 
 
 207 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 I SLEPT from three o'clock until daybreak, 
 and in the morning we heard mass in the 
 Coso. In the large balcony of a house called 
 Las Monas at the entrance of the Calle de las 
 Escuelas Pias all the priests had set up an altar 
 and celebrated there the divine office. By the 
 situation of the building, it was possible to see 
 the priests from anywhere in the Coso. It 
 was a profoundly moving sight, especially at 
 the moment of the elevation of the host ; and 
 when all knelt in prayer, the low murmur of 
 the service could be heard from one end of the 
 street to the other. 
 
 A little while after the mass was ended, I 
 heard a large number of people coming from 
 the direction of the market, — an angry and 
 noisy crowd. In the mob, and striving to 
 quell its violence, were several friars ; but it 
 was a mob of men deaf to the voice of reason. 
 They were yelling themselves hoarse, and as 
 they came, they dragged along a victim who 
 was powerless to free himself from their grasp. 
 
 203 
 
Saragossa 
 
 The maddened people took him to the place 
 near the entrance of the Trenque where the 
 gallows was ; and in a few moments the con- 
 vulsed body of a man was hanging from one 
 of its ropes, and was jerked about in the air 
 until it was lifeless. On the wood of the 
 gallows an inscription soon appeared, which 
 read, — 
 
 An assassin 
 
 of human k'lnd^ 
 
 who 
 
 kept hack twenty thousand beds. 
 
 The wretch was one Fernando Estello, 
 watchman of a storehouse of furniture. When 
 "the sick and wounded were breathing their last 
 in the gutters and on the cold tiles of the 
 churches, there was found a great collection of 
 beds whose hiding the watchman Estello could 
 not account for. The wrath of the populace 
 was not to be restrained. I have heard that 
 he was innocent. Many lamented his death ; 
 but when the firing in the trenches began 
 again, no one remembered him more. 
 
 Palafox published that day a proclamation 
 
 in which he tried to raise the spirits of the 
 
 soldiers, promising the rank of captain to the 
 
 man who should bring him a hundred recruits, 
 
 14 209 
 
Saragossa 
 
 threatening with the penalty of death and con- 
 fiscation of property the man who should fail 
 to hasten to the defence, or should leave the 
 lines. All this showed great distress on the 
 part of the commanding officers. That day 
 was memorable for the attack on Santa Monica, 
 which the volunteers of Huesca were defend- 
 ing. During the greater part of the night the 
 French had been bombarding the building. 
 The batteries of the orchard were no longer 
 serviceable, and it was necessary to take away 
 the cannon, an operation performed by our 
 valiant men, exposed without protection to 
 the hostile fire. This opened a breach at last ; 
 and, penetrating into the orchard, they tried to 
 gain possession of that also, forgetting that 
 they had twice been repulsed on previous days. 
 But Lannes, exasperated by the extraordinary 
 and unprecedented tenacity of the Saragossans, 
 had given orders to reduce the convent to 
 powder, — a thing which was easier to accom- 
 plish with the cannon and howitzer than to take 
 it by storm. At all events, after six hours of 
 artillery fire, a large part of the eastern wall 
 fell, and then the French showed their exulta- 
 tion, and, without loss of time, rushed forward 
 to seize the position, aided by the cross-fire 
 from the Molino in the city. Seeing them 
 
 2IO 
 
Saragossa 
 
 coming, Villacampa, commander of the Huesca 
 men, and Palafox, who had hurried to the point 
 of danger, tried to close up the breach with 
 sacks of wool and some empty musket-boxes. 
 The French, reaching the spot, made a mad, 
 furious assault, but, after a brief hand-to-hand 
 struggle, they were repulsed. During the 
 night they went on cannonading the convent. 
 
 The next day they decided to make another 
 attack, certain that no mortal could defend 
 that skeleton of stone and brick which every 
 moment was crumbling to the earth. They 
 assailed it at the door of the reception-room ; 
 but during all the morning they did not con- 
 quer a hand's breadth of earth in the cloister. 
 
 The wall of the eastern side of the convent 
 fell flat to the earth during the afternoon. The 
 third floor, which was very much weakened, 
 could not hold the weight, and fell upon the 
 second. The latter, which was even weaker, 
 could not help letting itself go upon the first ; 
 and the first, incapable of sustaining by itself 
 the weight of the whole structure above, fairly 
 poured itself out over the cloister, burying 
 hundreds of men. It would have been but 
 natural had the rest been intimidated by such 
 a catastrophe, but they were not. The French 
 gained possession of one part of the convent, 
 
 211 
 
Saragossa 
 
 but not of all ; and, in order to gain the rest, 
 they were obliged to clear a road through the 
 ruins. While they were doing this, the men 
 of Huesca who still survived, placed them- 
 selves in the stairway, and made holes through 
 the floor, in order to throw hand-grenades 
 against the besiegrers. 
 
 Fresh French troops were, however, able to 
 reach the church. They passed over the roof 
 of the convent, and spread themselves in the 
 interior; they descended to the cloisters and 
 attacked the brave volunteers. Hearing the 
 noise of this encounter, those below plucked 
 up heart, redoubled their energy, and, with the 
 loss of a great number of men, succeeded in 
 reaching the stairway. The volunteers found 
 themselves between two fires, and although it 
 was still possible for them to get out by one of 
 the two openings in the cloister, almost all of 
 them swore that they would die before they 
 would surrender. They all ran, seeking for 
 a strategic point which would permit them 
 to defend themselves to some advantage ; but 
 they were driven the length of the cloisters, 
 and when the last gun-shot was heard, it was 
 the signal that the last man had fallen. A few 
 inside the building were able to get out by 
 an underground door. Don Pedro Villacampa, 
 
 212 
 
Saragossa 
 
 commander of the Huesca volunteers, came 
 out into the city that way, and when he found 
 himself in the street, he turned, looking about 
 mechanically for his boys. 
 
 During this fight we were in the houses 
 about the Calle de Palomar, firing upon the 
 French detachment sent to assault the convent. 
 Before the battle was over, we learned that 
 defence was no longer possible in Las Monicas. 
 Don Jose de Montoria himself, who was with 
 us, confessed it. 
 
 " The volunteers of Huesca have not borne 
 themselves badly," he said. " They are known 
 to be good fellows. Now we must busy our- 
 selves defending these houses on the right. I 
 do not suppose that one is left. There goes 
 Villacampa alone. Then are not those Men- 
 dieta, and Paul, Benedicto, and Oliva? Let 
 us go. I see that indeed none are left in that 
 place." 
 
 In this way the convent of Las Monicas 
 passed into the hands of the French. 
 
 213 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 N reaching this point in my story, I beg 
 the reader to pardon me if I do not 
 give the dates exactly of that which I relate. 
 In this period of horror, lasting from January 27 
 to the middle of the next month, the successive 
 events are so confused, so mixed up, so run 
 together in my mind, that I cannot distinguish 
 days and nights, and, in some instances, I do 
 not know whether certain skirmishes of those I 
 recall took place in daylight. It seems to me 
 that all happened during one long day, or in 
 one endless night, and that time was not then 
 marked by its ordinary divisions. Many sen- 
 sations and impressions are linked together in 
 my memory, forming one vast picture where 
 there are no more dividing lines than those 
 that the events themselves offer, — the greater 
 fright of one moment, the unexplained panic or 
 fury of another. 
 
 For this reason I cannot tell exactly on what 
 day that took place which I am going to relate 
 now ; but if I am not mistaken it was on a day 
 
 214 
 
Saragossa 
 
 after the fight at Las Monicas, and somewhere, 
 I should say, between the thirtieth of January 
 and the second of February. We were occupy- 
 ing a house in the Calle de Pabostre. The 
 French were in the one next to it, and were 
 trying to advance through the inside of the 
 block to reach the Puerta Quemada. Nothing 
 can compare with the incessant activity going 
 on there. No kind of warfare, no bloodiest 
 battle on the open field, no sieges of a plaza, 
 nor struggles in a street barricade can compare 
 with the succession of conflicts between the 
 army of an alcove and the army of a drawing- 
 room, between the troops that occupy one floor 
 and those which guard the one above it. 
 
 Hearing the muflled blows of the picks at 
 various points, not knowing from what direc- 
 tion the attack might come, caused us some 
 alarm. We went up into attics ; we descended 
 into cellars, and glued our ears to partition walls; 
 we tried to learn the intentions of the enemy 
 according to the direction of the blows. At 
 last we noticed that the partition wall was being 
 violently shaken near the very place where we 
 were standing, and we waited fire in the door- 
 way, after heaping up the furniture as a barri- 
 cade. The French opened a hole, and presently 
 
 began leaping over beams and broken frag- 
 
 215 
 
Saragossa 
 
 merits, showing an intention of driving us from 
 the place. There were twenty of us, fewer of 
 them, and they evidently did not expect to be 
 received in such fashion, and retreated, return- 
 ing soon with such reinforcement that we were 
 in great danger, and obliged to retire, leaving 
 five comrades behind the furniture, two of 
 them dead. In the narrow passage we ran 
 against a stairway up which we hurried without 
 knowing where we were going, and presently 
 found ourselves in a garret, — an admirable po- 
 sition for defence. The stairway was narrow, 
 however, and the Frenchmen who tried to come 
 up it died inevitably. So we remained for 
 some time, prolonging the resistance, and en- 
 couraging one another with huzzas and shouts, 
 when the partition at our backs began to re- 
 sound with loud blows, and we saw immediately 
 that the French, by opening an entrance through 
 there, would catch us between two fires without 
 means of escape. We were now thirteen, as 
 two had fallen in the garret, severely wounded. 
 Tio Garces, who was in command, shouted 
 furiously : " By heaven, the dogs shall not 
 catch us ! There 's a skylight in the roof. 
 Let us go up through it to the tiles of the roof. 
 Go on firing at whoever comes up to try and 
 cut through it ! The rest of you enlarge the 
 
 216 
 
Saragossa 
 
 hole. Away with fear, and viva the Virgin del 
 Pilar ! " 
 
 It was done as he commanded. This was to 
 be a well-ordered retreat, according to the rules 
 of war ; and while part of our army was pre- 
 venting the onward march of the enemy, the 
 rest were occupied in facilitating the retreat. 
 This able plan was put into execution with 
 feverish activity, and very soon the hole of 
 escape was large enough for three men to pass 
 through at once, without the French gaining 
 a single step during the time that we were em- 
 ployed in this way. We quickly got out on 
 the roof. We were now nine. Three had 
 been left in the garret, and another was wounded 
 in trying to get out, falling still alive, into the 
 hands of the enemy. On finding ourselves 
 outside, we leaped for joy. We cast a glance 
 over the roofs of the quarter, and saw at a 
 distance the batteries of the French. We 
 advanced on all fours for a good distance, 
 exploring the lay of the land, leaving two sen- 
 tinels in the gap to pop off a gun at any one 
 who should seek to slip up by them. We had 
 not gone twenty paces when we heard a great 
 noise of voices and laughter which seemed to 
 us to be French. And so it was ; from a 
 broad balcony those rascals were looking at us 
 
 217 
 
Saragossa 
 
 and laughing. They were not slow in firing 
 upon us, but protected behind the chimneys, 
 the angles and corners which the roof afforded, 
 we answered them shot for shot, and replied to 
 their oaths and exclamations by a thousand 
 other invectives with which the lively imagina- 
 tion of Tio Garces inspired us. At last we 
 retreated, jumping to the roof of the next 
 house. We believed it to be in the hands of 
 our own men, and we entered by the window 
 of a little upper room, supposing that the de- 
 scent from there to the street would be easy, 
 and that there we should be reinforced for the 
 conclusion of the adventure that had carried us 
 through passages, up stairways, through gar- 
 rets, and over roofs. But we had scarcely set 
 foot there, when we heard in the apartment 
 below us the sound of many blows on the 
 wall. 
 
 "They are beating in there," said Tio 
 Garces, and in a second the French whom we 
 had left in the house next us had passed to this 
 one, where they met comrades. 
 
 " Cuerno ! Recuerno ! Let us get out of 
 this ! The whole creation 's down below there." 
 
 We passed on into another garret, and found 
 our way to a ladder leading down to a large in- 
 terior room, from whose doorway came the lively 
 
 218 
 
Saragossa 
 
 sound of voices, chiefly those of women. The 
 noise of the fight seemed much further off, 
 and we decided it must be at some distance. 
 So we dropped down the ladder and found 
 ourselves in a large room filled with old men, 
 women, and children who had all sought refuge 
 here. Many, lying upon rude mattresses, 
 showed in their faces traces of the terrible 
 epidemic, and one lifeless body lay on the 
 floor, breath evidently having left it but a few 
 moments before. Some were wounded, suffer- 
 ing cruelly and groaning unrestrainedly ; two or 
 three old women were weeping and praying. 
 Occasionally voices were heard begging, "Water, 
 water ! " From where we entered, I saw Can- 
 diola at the end of the room, carefully deposit- 
 ing in a corner a quantity of clothes and 
 kitchen utensils and crockery. With an angry 
 gesture he drove away the curious children who 
 wished to look over and handle the poor stuff. 
 Anxious, eager only to heap together and guard 
 his treasures without losing a fragment, he was 
 saying, — 
 
 " I have already lost two cups. And I 
 have no doubt whatever as to what has become 
 of them. Some one of these people has taken 
 them. There is no security anywhere ; there 
 
 are no authorities to guarantee to a citizen the 
 
 219 
 
Saragossa 
 
 possession of his property. Out of here, you 
 unmannerly boys ! Oh, we are hard pushed ! 
 Cursed be the bombs and the one who invented 
 them ! Soldiers, you have come in good time. 
 Can you not have two sentinels placed here 
 for me to guard these treasures which I have 
 been able to save only with great trouble ? '* 
 
 My comrades laughed at such pretension, 
 as may readily be believed. We were just 
 about to go, when I saw Mariquilla. The 
 poor girl was sadly changed from lack of sleep, 
 much weeping, and the constant alarms. But 
 the trouble of her brow, and that which looked 
 forth from her eyes, only added to the sweetness 
 of expression of her beautiful face. She saw 
 me, and immediately came eagerly up to me, 
 showing that she wished to speak with me. 
 
 " And Augustine ? '' I asked her. 
 
 " He is down there," she replied in tremu- 
 lous tones. " They are fighting below. We 
 who took refuge in this house have been ap- 
 portioned to different rooms. My father came 
 this morning with Dona Guedita. Augustine 
 brought us something to eat, and put us in a 
 room where there was a mattress. Suddenly we 
 heard blows on the partition walls. The French 
 were coming. The troops entered, and made 
 us leave, carrying the sick and wounded to an 
 
 220 
 
Saragossa 
 
 upper room. They shut us all in, and then 
 the walls were broken through. The French 
 met the Spaniards then, and began real fighting. 
 Yes, Augustine is below." 
 
 She was saying this when Manuela Sancho 
 came, carrying two pitchers of water for the 
 wounded. The poor wretches threw them- 
 selves from their beds, disputing even to blows 
 over the water. 
 
 "No pushing, no scrambling, senors!" said 
 Manuela, laughing. " There is water enough 
 for all. Our side is winning. It has cost 
 a little labor to drive the French from the 
 alcove, and now they are disputing half of 
 the hall, having gained one half of it. They 
 do not wish to leave us a kitchen or a stair- 
 case. The whole place is filled with the 
 dead." 
 
 Mariquilla turned pale with the horror of it. 
 
 " I am thirsty," she said to me. 
 
 I immediately tried to get some water for 
 her from Manuela ; but as the last glass she 
 had was in use, quenching soldiers* thirst, as 
 she went from mouth to mouth with it, I took, 
 in order to lose no time, one of the cups which 
 Candiola had in his pile. 
 
 " Eh, you meddler," he said, shaking his 
 fist at me, " leave that cup here." 
 
 221 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " I am getting it to give water to the seno- 
 rita," I answered indignantly. " Are these 
 things so valuable, Senor Candiola ? " 
 
 The miser did not reply, but did not oppose 
 my giving his daughter a drink. After her 
 thirst was quenched, a wounded soldier reached 
 out his hands eagerly for the cup, and, lo ! 
 it began to go the rounds also, passing from 
 mouth to mouth. When I went to wait upon 
 my comrades, Don Jeronimo followed me with 
 his eyes, and watched with bad grace the forced 
 loan that was so slow in returning to his 
 hands. 
 
 Manuela Sancho was right in saying that our 
 side was winning. The French, dislodged from 
 the main floor of the house, had retired to the 
 one below, where they continued their defence. 
 When I descended, all the interest of the 
 battle was centred in the kitchen, disputed 
 with much bloodshed, but the rest of the house 
 was in our power. Many bodies of French 
 and Spanish covered the gory floor. Some 
 soldiers and patriots, furious at not being able 
 to conquer that dismal kitchen, whence such a 
 fire was pouring, hurled themselves forward 
 into it, defending themselves with their bayo- 
 nets ; and although a goodly number of them 
 perished, their courageous act decided the 
 
 222 
 
Saragossa 
 
 matter, for behind them others could come, 
 and then all that the room could hold. 
 
 The Imperial soldiers, panic-stricken with 
 this violent assault, looked quickly for a way 
 out of the house which had been taken room 
 by room. We pursued them through passages 
 and halls whose confused arrangement would 
 craze the best military topographer. We fin- 
 ished them wherever we could find them, and 
 some of them escaped, dashing in desperation 
 out through the court-yards. In this manner, 
 after reconquering one house, we reconquered 
 the next one, obliging the enemy to restrict 
 themselves to their old positions, which were 
 the first two houses of the Calle de Pabostre. 
 
 Afterwards we removed our dead and 
 wounded, and I had the sorrow of finding 
 Augustine Montoria among the latter, although 
 the gun-wound in his right arm was not of a 
 serious nature. My battalion was reduced 
 one-half that day. The unfortunates who had 
 sought refuge in the upper room now wished 
 to make themselves a little more comfortable 
 in the lower rooms ; but this was not thought 
 practicable, and they were obliged to leave 
 the place and look for an asylum further from 
 danger. 
 
 Every day, every hour, every instant, the 
 
 223 
 
Saragossa 
 
 increasing difficulties of our military situation 
 were aggravated by the sight of the great num- 
 ber of unburied victims of battle and of the 
 epidemic. Happy a thousand times those who 
 were buried in the ruins of the undermined 
 houses, as happened to the valiant defenders 
 of the Calle de Pomar, close to the Santa 
 Engracia ! \ The most horrible thing was a 
 great number of the wounded piled up to- 
 gether, so that nobody could get at them to 
 help them. There was no medical aid for a 
 hundredth part of them. The charity of 
 women, the zeal of patriotic citizens, the mul- 
 tiplied activity of the hospitals, really availed 
 nothing. 
 
 There came a time when a sort of impassi- 
 bility, a dreadful apathy, began to take pos- 
 session of the besieged. We became used to 
 the sight of a heap of dead bodies, as if they 
 were so many sacks of wool. We were accus- 
 tomed to see, without pity, great numbers of 
 the wounded creeping and tottering to the 
 houses, each one caring for himself as best he 
 could. In the keenness of our sufferings,' it 
 seemed as if the usual necessities of the flesh 
 had gone, and that we lived only in the spirit. 
 Familiarity with danger had transformed our 
 natures, infusing them apparently with a new 
 
 224 
 
Saragossa 
 
 element, — absolute contempt of the material, 
 and indifference to life. Every one expected to 
 die at any moment, without the idea disturbing 
 him in the least. I remember hearing de- 
 scribed the attack on the Trinitarios convent, 
 made in the hope of snatching it from the 
 French, and the fabulous exploits, the incon- 
 ceivable rashness of that undertaking seemed 
 to me natural and ordinary. 
 
 I do not know whether I have said that next 
 to the Convent de las Monicas was that of 
 San Augustine, an edifice of good size, with 
 a large church, spacious cloisters, and vast 
 transepts. It was inevitable that the French, 
 now masters of Las Monicas, should show 
 great perseverance in the effort to gain pos- 
 session of this monastery, in order to establish 
 themselves firmly and definitely in that quarter. 
 
 " Since we have not the luck to be in Las 
 Monicas," said Pirli to me, " we will, to-day, 
 give ourselves the pleasure of defending until 
 death the four walls of Saint Augustine. As 
 the Estremadurans are not sufficient to defend 
 it, we are ordered in, too. And how about 
 rank, friend Araceli ^ Is it true that we two 
 young gentlemen have been promoted to be 
 sergeants ? " 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, friend 
 15 225 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Pirll," I answered ; and it was true that I was 
 ignorant of my elevation to the hierarchichal 
 altitude of a sergeant. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, the general says so ; Senor de 
 Araceli is first sergeant, and Senor de Pirli is 
 second sergeant. We have worked hard enough 
 for it. It 's a good thing we have enough of 
 our bodies left to hang the epaulets on. I 
 heard that Augustine Montoria has been made 
 a lieutenant for his gallantry inside the houses. 
 Yesterday, at nightfall, the battalion of Las 
 Peiias de San Pedro was reduced to four ser- 
 geants, a lieutenant, a captain, and two hun- 
 dred men." 
 
 " Let us see, friend Pirli, if we cannot earn 
 two more promotions apiece to-day." 
 
 " All that we have to do is to keep our 
 skins whole," he answered. " The few soldiers 
 of the Huesca battalion who survive think 
 that they are all going to be made generals. 
 There is the call ! Have you anything to 
 eat ? " 
 
 " Not much." 
 
 " Manuela Sancho gave me four sardines. I 
 will divide them with you. How would you 
 like a dozen of these roasted peas ? Do you 
 remember how wine tastes ? I ask, because it 
 is so many days since they have given us a 
 
 226 
 
Saragossa 
 
 drop. They will give us a spoonful when the 
 battle of San Augustine is over. Here you 
 are ! It would be too bad if they should 
 finish us off before we know what color the 
 stuff is which they are going to pass around 
 to-night. If they would follow my advice, ^ 
 they would give it to us before the fight, so 
 that those who drop off would get a taste. 
 But the committee of supplies has evidently 
 said, ' There is very little wine ; if we give it 
 out now there will scarcely be three drops to 
 a man. We will wait until evening, and as it 
 will be a miracle if a fourth part of those who 
 defend San Augustine are alive then, there 
 will be at least one swallow apiece for the 
 rest. 
 
 He followed this criticism with a general 
 discourse upon the scarcity of provisions. We 
 did not have time to indulge ourselves much 
 on that topic, for we had scarcely joined the 
 Estremadura men at the monastery, when a 
 loud report warned us to be on our guard ; 
 then a friar appeared, shouting , — 
 
 " My sons, they have blown up the middle 
 walls on the side towards Las Monicas, and 
 they are already in the building ! Run to the 
 church. They must have seized the sacristy ; 
 but that makes no difference. If you go in 
 
 227 
 
Saragossa 
 
 time, you will be masters 
 the chapels and the choir. 
 Virgin del Pilar, and the 
 Estremadura !'* 
 
 We marched serenely into the church. 
 
 of the nave, of 
 
 Viva the Holy 
 
 battalion of the 
 
 228 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE good fathers encouraged us with 
 their exhortations, and some of them, 
 mingling with us in the most dangerous places 
 in the ranks, said to us, — 
 
 " My sons, do not be discouraged. Fore- 
 seeing this event we have saved moderate 
 quantities of food, and we have wine also. 
 Give this mob plenty of powder ! Courage, 
 dear boys ! Do not be afraid of the enemy's 
 lead. You do more damage with one of your 
 glances than they with a discharge of lead. 
 Forward, my sons ! The Holy Virgin del 
 Pilar is with you. Don't wince at danger ; 
 face the enemy calmly, and in the cloud of 
 battle you will see the holy form of the Mother 
 of God. Viva Spain and Fernando VII ! " 
 
 We reached the church ; but the French, who 
 had preceded us by the sacristy, already oc-' 
 cupied the high altar. I had never before seen 
 a churrigueresque altar all covered with sculp- 
 tures and garlands of gold, serving as a breast- 
 work for infantry ; nor had I ever seen niches 
 which served as the lodging places of a thou- 
 sand carved saints vomiting forth fire. I 
 
 229 
 
Saragossa 
 
 had never seen the rays of gilded wood which 
 shed their changeless light from pasteboard 
 clouds peopled by little angels, confused with 
 gun-flashes ; nor behind the feet of Christ, and 
 back of the golden halo of the Virgin Mary, the 
 avenging eyes of soldiers taking death-dealing 
 aim. 
 
 It is well to say that the high altar of San 
 Augustine was an enormous one, filled with 
 gilded wooden sculptures, like others you have 
 seen in any of the churches of Spain. It ex- 
 tended from the floor to the arch above, and 
 from wall to wall, and represented in row 
 upon row the celestial hierarchies. Above, the 
 blood-stained Christ spread his arms upon the 
 cross ; below, and on the altar, a little shrine 
 enclosed the symbol of the Eucharist. Al- 
 though the whole was supported by the ground 
 and the walls, there were little interior covered 
 ways destined for the special services of that 
 republic of saints, and by them the sacristan 
 could ascend from the sacristy to change the 
 dress of the Virgin, to light the candles before 
 the highest crucifix, or to clean the dust of cen- 
 turies from the antique fabrics and painted 
 wood of the images. 
 
 Well, the French rapidly gained possession 
 of the camarin of the Virgin, and the nar- 
 
 230 
 
Saragossa 
 
 row passages I have spoken of. When we 
 arrived, from behind each saint, in every niche, 
 gleamed a gun barrel. Established thus behind 
 the altar, and advancing slowly forward, they 
 were preparing to take all of this upper part of 
 the church. 
 
 We were not entirely unprotected ; and in 
 order to defend ourselves from the altar-piece, 
 we occupied the confessionals, the altars of the 
 chapels, and the galleries. Those of us who 
 were most exposed were in the central nave ; 
 and while the more daring advanced resolutely 
 towards the altar, others of us took positions 
 in the lower choir ; and from behind the chor- 
 ister's desk, from behind chairs and benches 
 which we piled up against the choir-screen, we 
 tried to dislodge the French nation from its 
 possession of the high altar. 
 
 Tio Garces, with others as brave, ran to 
 occupy the pulpit, another churrigueresque 
 structure whose sounding board was crowned 
 by a statue of Faith which reached almost to 
 the roof They mounted, occupying the little 
 stair and the great chair, and from there, by a 
 singular chance, they shut up every Frenchman 
 who dared to show his head in that direction. 
 They also suffered great loss, for the men in 
 the altar were much annoyed by the pulpit, and 
 
 231 
 
Saragossa 
 
 tried hard to get that obstacle out of their way. 
 At last some twenty Imperials came out, evi- 
 dently bent upon reducing at all hazards that 
 wooden redoubt without whose possession it 
 was madness to attempt to come out into the 
 broad nave. I have never seen anything more 
 like a great battle, and as in that the attention 
 of both armies is concentrated upon one point, 
 the most eagerly disputed of all, whose loss or 
 conquest decides the outcome of the struggle, 
 so the attention of all was now directed to the 
 pulpit, so well defended and so well attacked. 
 The twenty had to resist a sharp fire from us 
 in the choir, and the hand-grenades which were 
 thrown at them from the galleries. But in spite 
 of great loss, they advanced resolutely, bayonets 
 fixed, upon the pulpit stairway. The ten de- 
 fenders of the fortress were not intimidated, 
 and defended themselves with empty guns, 
 with the unfailing superiority which they always 
 showed in that kind of conflict. Many of our 
 men who were firing from the chapel altars and 
 the confessionals, ran to attack the French with 
 their swords, representing in that way, in min- 
 iature, conditions of a rude field battle ; the 
 contest was waged, man to man, with bayonet- 
 thrusts, guns, and blows as each one met his 
 adversary. 
 
 232 
 
Saragossa 
 
 The enemy was reinforced from the sacristy, 
 and our rear-guard also came out of the choir. 
 Some who were in the gallery on the right 
 jumped upon the cornice of a great reredos at 
 one side, and not satisfied with firing from 
 there, threw down upon the French three 
 statues of saints that capped its three angles. 
 Meantime the pulpit was still held bravely, and 
 in that hell of fiame I saw Tio Garces stand- 
 ing erect, directing the men, and looking like a 
 preacher screaming impudently with a hoarse 
 voice. If I should ever see the devil preaching 
 sin, standing on the great chair in the pulpit 
 of a church invaded by all the other demons 
 of hell in hideous riot, it would not especially 
 attract my attention after that. ^f .^ ^ 
 
 This could not last long ; and Tio Garces 
 presently fell, screaming hoarsely, pierced by a 
 hundred balls. The French, who had poured 
 up by way of the sacristy, now advanced in a 
 closed column, and in the three steps which sepa- 
 rated the presbytery from the rest of the church, 
 offered us a wall-like defence. When this 
 column fired, the question of the pulpit was 
 instantly settled, and having lost one out of 
 every five of our men, leaving a large number of 
 our dead upon the tiles of the floor, we retreated 
 to the chapels. The first defenders of the pul- 
 
 233 
 
Saragossa 
 
 pit, those who had gone to reinforce them, and 
 Tio Garces also, were picked up on bayonets, 
 pierced through and tossed over the redoubt. 
 So died that great patriot unnamed In history. 
 The captain of our company remained hfe- 
 less also upon the pavement. We retired In 
 disorderly fashion to various points separated 
 from one another, not knowing who would 
 command us. Indeed, the Initiative of each 
 one, or of each group of two or three, was the 
 only organization then possible, and no one 
 thought of companies or of military rank. All 
 were obedient to one common purpose, and 
 showed a marvellous Instinctive knowledge of 
 rudimentary strategy which the exigencies of the 
 struggle demanded at every moment. This 
 instinctive insight made us understand that we 
 were lost from the time that we got into the 
 chapels on the right, and it was rashness to 
 persist In the defence of the church before the 
 great numbers of the French who now occupied 
 It. Some of our soldiers thought that with the 
 benches, the images, and the wood of an old 
 altar-piece, which could easily be broken to 
 pieces, we ought to raise a barricade In the 
 arch of our chapel, and defend ourselves to the 
 last ; but two Augustine fathers opposed this 
 useless effort. 
 
 234 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " My sons, do not trouble yourselves to 
 prolong the resistance which will only destroy 
 you, and give our side no advantage," said one 
 of them. " The French are attacking this mo- 
 ment by the Calle de las Arcades. Hasten 
 there, and sec if you can not harass them ; but 
 do not imagine that you can defend the church 
 profaned by these savages." 
 
 These exhortations decided us to leave the 
 church. Some of the Estremadura men re- 
 mained in the choir, exchanging shots with the 
 French, who now filled the nave. The friars 
 only half-fulfilled their promise of giving us 
 something for which to sing " Gaudeamus^ 
 As a recompense for having defended their 
 church to the last extreme, they were giving 
 us some bits of jerked beef and dry bread, 
 without our seeing or smelling the wine any- 
 where, in spite of our straining our eyes and 
 our nostrils. But to explain this, they said 
 that the French, occupying all the upper part, 
 had possession of all the principal storehouse 
 of provisions. Lamenting this, they tried to 
 console us with praises of our good behavior. 
 
 The failure of the wine made me remember 
 the great Pirli. I happened to recollect that 
 I had seen him at the beginning of the battle. 
 I asked for him, but nobody could account for 
 
 235 
 
Saragossa 
 
 his disappearance. The French occupied the 
 church, and also some of the upper part of the 
 convent. In spite of our unfavorable position 
 below, we were resolved to go on resisting ; and 
 we bore in mind the heroic conduct of the vol- 
 unteers of Huesca, who defended Las Monicas 
 until they were buried beneath its ruins. We 
 were maddened, and believed ourselves dis- 
 graced if we did not conquer. We were im- 
 pelled to these desperate struggles by a hidden, 
 irresistible force which I cannot explain except 
 as the strong tension and spiritual exaltation 
 springing from our aspirations towards the 
 ideal. 
 
 An order from outside stopped us, dictated 
 doubtless by the practical good sense of Gen- 
 eral Saint March. 
 
 " The convent cannot be held,'* it was said. 
 " Instead of sacrificing men with no advantage 
 to the city, let all go out to defend the points 
 attacked in the Calle de Pabostre, and the 
 Puerta Quemada, where the enemy are trying 
 to advance, conquering houses from which they 
 have been repulsed various times." 
 
 We therefore left San Augustine. While we 
 were passing through the street of the same name, 
 parallel with the Calle de Palomar, we saw that 
 they were throwing hand-grenades among the 
 
Saragossa 
 
 French established in a little opening near the 
 latter of these two streets. Who was throwing 
 those projectiles from the tower ? In order to 
 tell it more briefly, and with greatest eloquence, 
 let us open the history and read : " In the 
 tower six or eight peasants had placed them- 
 selves, having provided themselves with pro- 
 visions and ammunition to harass the enemy. 
 They continued to hold it for some days with- 
 out being willing to surrender.'* 
 
 There was the glorious Pirli ! Oh, Pirli, 
 more happy than Tio Garces, thou dost 
 occupy a place in history ! 
 
 237 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 INCORPORATED into the battalion of 
 Estremadura, we went along the Calle de 
 Palomar into the Plaza de la Magdalena, whence 
 we could hear the roar of battle at the end of 
 the Calle de Puerta Quemada. As we have 
 said, the enemy tried to take the Calle de 
 Pabostre in order to get possession of Puerta 
 Quemada, an important point whence they 
 could rake with their artillery the street of the 
 same name towards the Plaza de la Magdalena. 
 As the possession of San Augustine and Las 
 Monicas permitted them to threaten that cen- 
 tral point by the easy way to the Calle de 
 Palomar, they already considered themselves 
 masters of the suburb. In fact, if those in 
 San Augustine managed to advance to the 
 ruins of the Seminary, and those of the Calle 
 de Pabostre to the Puerta Quemada, it would 
 be impossible to dispute with the French the 
 quarter of Las Tenerias. 
 
 After a short time they took us to the Calle 
 de Pabostre, and as the battle of the outside 
 and inside of the buildings and of the public 
 
 238 
 
Saragossa 
 
 way was now all combined, we entered the first 
 block by the Calle de los Viejos. From the 
 windows of the house in which we found 
 ourselves, we could see nothing but smoke, and 
 could tell but little of what was going on there. 
 I saw later that the street was all filled 
 with embrasures and trenches at certain dis- 
 tances made of heaps of earth, furniture, and 
 rubbish. From the windows a tremendous fire 
 was poured forth, and, remembering a phrase 
 of the beggar Sursum Corda, I can say that 
 our souls were turned into bullets. Inside the 
 houses the blood flowed in torrents. The 
 onset of the French was terrible, and that the 
 resistance might not be less terrible the belfries 
 summoned men unceasingly. The general 
 dictated stern orders for the punishment of 
 stragglers. The friars rallied the people of 
 other districts, dragging them forward as in 
 a leash. Some heroic women set an example, 
 throwing themselves into danger, guns in hand. 
 A dreadful day, whose frightful roar re- 
 sounds ever in the ears of him who was present ! 
 Its remembrance pursues him, an unescaped 
 nightmare, through his whole life. He who 
 did not see these horrors, who did not hear 
 the noise of that shouting, knows not with 
 
 what expression the depths of the horrible may 
 
 239 
 
/ 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 be uttered to human feeling. Do not tell 
 me that you have seen the crater of a vol- 
 cano in the most violent eruption ; or a great 
 tempest in the open ocean when the ship, 
 tossed to heaven on a mountain of waterfalls, 
 descends next to a giddy depth, — do not tell me 
 you have seen these things, for they are nothing 
 at all like the volcanoes and tempests of man 
 when his passions urge him to out-rival the dis- 
 orders in Nature. 
 
 It was difficult to hold us back, and not 
 being able to do much where we were, we 
 descended to the street without noticing the 
 officers who tried to hold us back. The com- 
 bat had an irresistible attraction for us, and 
 called us as the deep calls unto a man who 
 looks down upon it from a cliff. I have never 
 considered myself heroic ; but it is certain that 
 in those moments I did not fear death, nor 
 did the sight of catastrophes terrify me. It 
 is true that heroism, as a thing of the moment, 
 and the direct child of inspiration, does not 
 belong exclusively to the brave. That is the 
 reason it is often found in women and 
 cowards. 
 
 I will not go into the details of those strug- 
 gles in the Calle de la Pabostre. They were 
 much like those which I have described before. 
 
 240 
 
Saragossa 
 
 If they differed in any respect, it was in their 
 excess of constancy, and energy raised to a 
 height where the human ended and the divine 
 began. Within the houses, scenes passed like 
 those I have described elsewhere, but with 
 greater carnage, because victory was believed 
 more certain. The advantage the men of the 
 Empire gained in one place they lost in 
 another. The battles, begun in the attics, 
 descended step by step to the cellars, and were 
 finished there with clubbed muskets, with the 
 advantage always on the side of our peasants. 
 The tones of command with which one or 
 another directed the movements within these 
 labyrinths resounded from room to room with 
 fearful echoes. They used their artillery in 
 the street, and we did also. Often they tried 
 to get possession of our pieces by sudden hand- 
 to-hand struggles ; but they lost many men 
 without ever succeeding. 
 
 Alarmed on seeing that the force used at 
 one time to gain a battle was not now sufficient 
 to gain two yards of a street, they refused to 
 fight, and their officers drove them forward, 
 beating their laziness out of them with cudgels. 
 On our side such measures were not necessary; 
 persuasion was enough. The priests, without 
 neglecting the dying, attended to everything. 
 i6 241 
 
Saragossa 
 
 If they saw a weakening anywhere, they would 
 hasten to tell the officers. 
 
 In one of the trenches in the street, a woman, 
 bravest of all, Manuela Sancho, after having 
 fired with a gun, began serving cannon number 
 eight. She remained unhurt all day, encour- 
 aging all with brave words, — an example to the 
 men. It was perhaps three o'clock when she 
 fell, wounded in the leg, and during a long 
 time was supposed to be dead, because the 
 hemorrhage made her seem lifeless ; she looked 
 like a corpse. Later, seeing that she breathed, 
 we carried her to the rear, and she was restored, 
 and had such good health afterwards that many 
 years later I had the pleasure of seeing her 
 still alive. 
 
 History has not forgotten that brave young 
 Maid of Saragossa. The Calle de Pabostre, 
 whose poor houses are more eloquent than 
 the pages of a book, now bears the name of 
 Manuela Sancho. 
 
 A little after three o'clock, a tremendous 
 loud explosion shook the houses which the 
 French had disputed with us in such a bloody 
 manner during the morning. Amid the dust, 
 and the smoke thicker than dust, we saw walls 
 and roofs falling in a thousand pieces, with a 
 noise of which I can give no idea. The French 
 
 242 
 
.A 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 had begun to employ mines. In order to gain ' \ 
 that which they could In no other way wrench 
 from the hands of the sons of Aragon. They 
 opened galleries ; they charged the mines ; then 
 the men folded their arms, waiting for the 
 powder to do It all. 
 
 When the first house went, we stayed quietly 
 In the next, and In the street. But when the 
 second went with a still louder noise, the retreat 
 began with plenty of disorder. Considering 
 that so many unfortunate comrades were hurled 
 into the air or buried beneath the ruins, men 
 who had been unconquerable by force of arms, 
 we felt ourselves too weak to contend with the 
 new element of destruction. It seemed to us 
 that in all the other houses, and In the street, 
 horrible craters were going to burst forth which 
 would send us flying, torn into a thousand 
 bloody fragments. 
 
 The officers held us back, calling, — 
 
 " Courage, boys, stand firm ! That Is done 
 to frighten us. We have plenty of powder, 
 too, and we will open mines. Do you think 
 this will give them an advantage ? On the 
 contrary, we shall see how they will defend 
 themselves among a lot of fragments.'* 
 
 Palafox appeared at the entrance of the 
 street, and his presence restrained us for some 
 
 243 
 
Saragossa 
 
 time. The noise prevented me from hearing 
 what he was saying, but by his gestures I un- 
 derstood that he wished us to go on over the 
 ruins. 
 
 " You hear, boys ! You hear what the 
 Captain-General says ! " a friar shouted beside 
 us, one of those who had come with Palafox. 
 "He says that if you will make a little exertion, 
 not one Frenchman will be left alive. You 
 are right ! " cried another friar. " There will 
 not be a woman left in Saragossa who will 
 even look at you, if you do not hurl your- 
 selves instantly upon those ruins of the houses, 
 and drive the French out." 
 
 " Forward, sons of the Virgin del Pilar ! ** 
 cried out a third friar. " Do you see those 
 women over there ? Do you know what they 
 are saying ? They are saying that if you do 
 not go, they will go themselves. Are you not 
 ashamed of your cowardice ? " 
 
 With that, we stood up a little more bravely. 
 Another house fell on the right. Palafox came 
 into the street. Without knowing how or 
 why, we followed him when he put himself at 
 our head. Now is the time to speak of that 
 high personage whose name and fame are one 
 with that of Saragossa. His prestige is due 
 in large measure to his great courage, but also 
 
 244 
 
Saragossa 
 
 to his noble origin, and the respect in which 
 the family of Lazan has always been held in 
 Saragossa, and to his handsome and spirited 
 presence. He was young. He had belonged 
 to the Guards. He was much praised for hav- 
 ing refused the favors of a very highly-placed 
 lady, as famous for her position as for scandals 
 about her. That which endeared the Sara- 
 gossan leader more than anything else to his 
 people was, however, his supreme, his indomit- 
 able courage, the youthful ardor with which he 
 attacked the most dangerous and difficult 
 obstacles, simply to reach his ideals of honor 
 and glory. 
 
 If he lacked intellectual gifts to direct an 
 undertaking so arduous as this, he had the 
 prudence to know his lack, and to surround 
 himself with men distinguished for their judg- 
 ment and wisdom. These men did every- 
 thing. Palafox was the great figure-head, the 
 chief actor in the scene. Over a people so 
 largely ruled by imagination, that young gen- 
 eral could scarcely fail to hold an imperious 
 dominion, with his illustrious lineage and 
 splendid figure. He showed himself every- 
 where, encouraging the weak, and distributing 
 rewards to the brave. 
 
 The Saragossans beheld in him the. ,syni" 
 
 '^-—-^'""^ 245 
 
Saragossa 
 
 bol of their constancy, their virtues, their 
 patriotic ideal with its touch of mysticism, and 
 their warlike zeal. Whatever he ordered, 
 everybody found right and just. Like those 
 monarchs whom traditional laws have made the 
 personal embodiment of government, Palafox 
 could do no wrong. Anything wrong was the 
 work of his counsellors. In reality, the illus- 
 trious commander did not govern, he reigned. 
 Father Basilio governed, with O'Neill, Saint 
 March, and Butron, the first, an ecclesiastic, 
 the other three noted generals. 
 
 In places of danger, Palafox always appeared 
 like a human expression of triumph. His 
 voice reanimated the dying ; and if the Virgin 
 del Pilar had spoken, she would have chosen 
 no other mouth. His countenance always ex- 
 pressed a supreme confidence. In his trium- 
 phal smile, courage overflowed, as in others it 
 is expressed by a ferocious frown. He was 
 vain-gloriously proud of being the prop of 
 that great hour in history. He understood 
 instinctively that the outcome depended more 
 upon him as an actor than upon him as a 
 general. He always appeared in all the splen-^ 
 dors of his uniform, with gold lace, waving 
 plumes, and medals. The thundering music 
 of applause, of huzzas, flattered him extremely. 
 
 246 
 
Saragossa 
 
 «All-this was necessary. Indeed there must 
 always be something of mutual adulation be- 
 tween the army and the commander-in-chief, 
 in order that the pride of victory may inspire 
 one and all to deeds of heroism. 
 
 247 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 AS I have said, Palafox pulled us together ; 
 and although we abandoned almost all 
 of the Calle de Pabostre, we remained strong 
 in the Puerta Quemada. If the battle was 
 bloody until three, the hour when we centred 
 in the Plaza de la Magdalena, it was not less 
 bloody there until night. The French began 
 to raise works in the houses ruined by the 
 mines, and it was curious to see how among 
 the masses of rubbish and beams small armed 
 squares and covered ways were made and plat- 
 forms to connect the artillery. That was a 
 battle which every moment appeared less and 
 less like any other known warfare. 
 
 From this new phase of contest resulted an 
 advantage for us and a hindrance for the 
 French. The demolition of the houses per- 
 mitted them to place some new pieces, but the 
 men were unprotected. To our misfortune, 
 we could not avail ourselves of this because 
 of the explosions. Fright made us think the 
 danger multiplied a hundredfold, when in 
 
 248 
 
Saragossa 
 
 reality it was diminished. Not wishing to do 
 less than they in that fiery duel, the Saragos- 
 sans beo:an to burn the houses in the Calle de 
 Pabostre which they could not hold. 
 
 Besiegers and besieged, desirous of coming 
 to an end of this, and not being able to attain 
 it in such intricate burrowing warfare, began 
 to destroy, one side by mining, the other by 
 burning, remaining unprotected like the gladi- 
 ator who throws away his shield. 
 
 What an afternoon ! What a night ! Arriv- 
 ing here, I pause, wearied and breathless. My 
 recollections are obscured, dimmed as my 
 thoughts and my feelings were dimmed on 
 that dreadful night. There came indeed a 
 moment when being unable to resist longer, 
 my body, like that of others of my comrades 
 who had the fortune or misfortune to be still 
 alive, dragged itself back across the gutters, 
 stumbling over unburied bodies that seemed 
 less than human among the debris. My feel- 
 ings had flung me into an extreme of delirium, 
 and I did not clearly know where I was. My 
 idea of living was a confused, vague mix- 
 ture of unheard-of miseries. It did not seem 
 as if it was day, because in so many places the 
 murk hung low, obscuring everything. Nor 
 could I think it night, for flam.es like those we 
 
 249 
 
Saragossa 
 
 imagine in hell reddened the city on every 
 side. 
 
 I only know that I dragged myself, step- 
 ping upon bodies, some dead and some still 
 moving, and that farther on, always farther 
 on, I thought I might find a piece of bread 
 and a mouthful of water. What horrible 
 mental dejection ! What hunger! What thirst 1 
 I saw many running swiftly. I cried out to 
 them. I saw their strange shadows throwing 
 grotesque figures upon the neighboring walls. 
 They were going and coming, I know not 
 whence nor where. I was not the only one 
 who, with body and soul exhausted after so 
 many hours of fighting, had given out com- 
 pletely. Many others who had not the steel 
 nerves of the Aragonese were dragging them- 
 selves along like myself, and we begged one 
 another for a little water. Some, more fortu- 
 nate than the rest, had the strength to look 
 about among the corpses and find crusts of 
 rations not eaten, fragments of meat, cold and 
 dirty on the ground, which they devoured with 
 avidity. 
 
 Somewhat revived, we went on looking, and 
 I took my part of the tidbits of the feast. I 
 did not know if I was wounded. Some of 
 those who were talking with me, telling me of 
 
 250 
 
Saragossa 
 
 their dreadful hunger and thirst, had terrible 
 wounds and burns and contusions. At last 
 we came to some women who gave us water 
 to drink, although it was muddy and warm. 
 We disputed over the jug, and then in the 
 hands of one of the dead we found a kerchief 
 containing two dried sardines and little cakes. 
 Encouraged by these repeated finds, we went on 
 pillaging, and at last the little which we were 
 able to eat, and, more than anything else, the 
 dirty water we drank, gave us back a little 
 strength. 
 
 I now felt myself able to walk a little, al- 
 though with difficulty. I saw that my clothing 
 was all soaked with blood. Feeling a lively 
 smarting in my right arm, I supposed that I 
 was severely wounded ; but the hurt turned out 
 to be an insignificant contusion, and the stains 
 on my clothing came from creeping along 
 through the pools of blood and mud. 
 
 I could now think clearly again. I could see 
 plainly, and could hear distinctly the shouts 
 and the hurried footsteps, the cannon-shots 
 near and afar in dreadful dialogue. Their 
 crashings here and yonder seemed like ques- 
 tions and replies. 
 
 The burning went on. There was a dense 
 cloud over the city formed of dust and smoke, 
 
 251 
 
Saragossa 
 
 which, with the splendor of the flames, revealed 
 horrible unearthly scenes like those of dreams. 
 
 The mangled houses, with their windows and 
 openings glaring with the light like hellish 
 eyes, the projecting angles of the smoking 
 ruins, and the burning beams formed a spectacle 
 less sinister than that of those leaping and un- 
 wearied figures that did not cease to move 
 about here and there, almost in the centre of 
 the flames. They were the peasants of Sara- 
 gossa, who were still fighting with the French, 
 and disputing with them every hand's breadth 
 of this hell. 
 
 I found myself in the Calle de Puerta Que- 
 mada. That which I have described was seen 
 by looking in two directions from the Seminary, 
 and from the entrance of the Calle de Pabostre. 
 I went on a few steps, but fell again, overcome 
 by fatigue. A priest, seeing me covered with 
 blood, came up to me and began to talk to me 
 of the future life, and of the eternal rewards 
 destined for those who die for their country. 
 He told me that I was not wounded ; but that 
 hunger, weariness, and thirst had prostrated me, 
 and that I seemed to have the early symptoms 
 of the epidemic. Then the good friar, in whom 
 I recognized at once Father Mateo del Busto, 
 seated himself beside me, sighing deeply. 
 
 252 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " I can keep up no longer. I believe that I 
 am going to die." 
 
 " Is your reverence wounded ? " I asked, 
 seeing a linen cloth bound upon his right arm. 
 
 " YeSj my son. A ball has destroyed my 
 shoulder and arm. I am in the greatest pain, 
 but I must bear it. Christ suffered more for 
 us. Since daybreak I have been busy, caring 
 for the wounded and pointing the dying to 
 heaven. I have not rested a moment for six- 
 teen hours, nor have I eaten nor drank any- 
 thing. A woman tied this linen on my right 
 arm, and I went about my work. I believe 
 that I shall not live long. What a death ! 
 My God, and all these wounded with no one 
 to take care of them ! But, oh, I can no longer 
 stand ! I am dying ! Have you seen that 
 trench which is at the end of the Calle de los 
 Clavos ? Over there poor Coridon is lying, 
 lifeless, the victim of his own courage. We 
 were passing along there to take care of some 
 of the wounded, when we saw, near the garden 
 of San Augustine, a group of Frenchmen who 
 were passing from one house to another. 
 Coridon, whose impetuous blood impelled him 
 to the most daring acts, threw himself upon 
 them. They bayoneted him, and flung him in 
 the ditch. How many victims in a single day, 
 
 253 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Araceli ! Indeed, you are fortunate in not 
 being hurt. But you will die of the epidemic, 
 and that is worse. To-day I have given abso- 
 lution to sixty who were dying of the epidemic. 
 I give it to you also, my friend, because I know 
 you have committed no sins, only peccadilloes, 
 and that you have borne yourself valiantly in 
 these days. How is it ? Do you feel worse ? 
 Truly you are yellower than these corpses 
 about us. To die of the epidemic during this 
 horrible siege is to die for one's country. 
 Courage, young man! Heaven is open to re- 
 ceive you, and the Virgin del Pilar will wel- 
 come you with her mantle of the stars. Life 
 is nothing. How much better it is to die hon- 
 orably, and to gain eternal glory by the suffer- 
 ing of a day ! In the name of God, I forgive 
 you your sins ! " 
 
 Then after murmuring the prayer appro- 
 priate to the occasion, he blessed me, and pro- 
 nounced the Ego te ahsolvo^ and then lay down 
 upon the ground. He looked very badly, and 
 although I did not call myself well, I thought 
 myself in a better state of health than the good 
 friar. That was not the only time when the 
 confessor died before the dying one, and the 
 physician before the patient. 
 
 I spoke to Father Mateo, and he did not 
 
 254 
 
Saragossa 
 
 answer me, except with piteous moans. I went 
 a little way to look for some one who might 
 be able to help him. I met several men and 
 women, and told them, "Father Mateo del 
 Busto is over there and cannot move ; " but 
 they took no notice of me and went on. Many 
 of the wounded called upon me, begging for 
 aid ; but I took no notice at all of them. Near 
 the Coso, I met a child of eight or ten years, 
 who was alone, and weeping in the sorest dis- 
 tress. I stopped him. I asked him where his 
 parents were, and he pointed to a place near 
 where there was a great number of the wounded 
 and dead. Afterwards I met the same child 
 in several places, always alone and always cry- 
 ing aloud very bitterly. No one cared for 
 him. I heard no questions, but, " Have you 
 seen my brother ? " " Have you seen my 
 son ? " " Have you seen my father ? " But 
 none of these were to be found in any direc- 
 tion. No one tried to take any of the wounded 
 to the churches, because all or nearly all were 
 crowded. The cellars and lower rooms which 
 at first had been considered good places of 
 refuge, were now infected with a death-dealing 
 atmosphere. There came a time when the 
 best place for the wounded was in the middle 
 of the street. 
 
 255 
 
Saragossa 
 
 I directed my steps towards the centre of 
 the CosOj because they said that there they were 
 giving out something to eat, but I received 
 nothing. I was returning to Las Tenerias, and 
 at last, in front of Almudi, they gave me a little 
 hot food. That which seemed a symptom of 
 the epidemic disappeared, for indeed my mal- 
 ady was only of the sort that can be cured with 
 bread and wine. I remembered Father Mateo 
 del Busto, and with some others went to help 
 him. The unfortunate old man had not moved, 
 and when we came up, and asked him how he 
 found himself, he answered thus, — 
 
 " What is it ? Has the bell sounded for 
 matins ? It is early. Leave me to rest. I 
 find myself much fatigued, Father Gonzalez. 
 I have been picking flowers in the garden for 
 sixteen hours, and I am tired." 
 
 In spite of his entreaty, we four toolc* him 
 up ; but we had carried him only a short dis- 
 tance before he was dead in our arms. 
 
 My comrades ran to the front, and I was 
 preparing to follow them, when I happened to 
 see a man whose looks attracted my attention. 
 It was Candiola. He v/as coming out of a 
 house near by with his clothing scorched, 
 and grasping between his hands a fowl, which 
 cackled at being held captive. I stopped him 
 
 256 
 
Saragossa 
 
 in the middle of the street, questioning him 
 about his daughter and Augustine. He 
 answered me in a very disturbed way, — 
 
 "My daughter — I do not know — there 
 she is — somewhere. All, all ! 1 have lost 
 all. The receipts, the receipts were burned. 
 Fortunately I got out of the house, and as I 
 fled I came upon this chicken which, like 
 me, was flying from the dreadful flames. Yes- 
 terday, a hen was worth five duros. But my 
 receipts ! Holy Virgin del Pilar, and thou, 
 dear little Santo Domingo of my soul, why 
 have ye let my receipts be burned ? They, 
 at least, might have been saved. Do you wish 
 to help me ^ The tin box which held them is 
 still there pinned down under a great beam. 
 Where can you find half a dozen men for me ^ 
 Good God, this junta, these authorities, this 
 Captain-General, what are they thinking of? " 
 And he went on, calling out to the passers-by, 
 " Eh, peasant, friend, dear man, let us see if 
 we cannot lift the beam which has fallen into 
 the corner. Oh, friends, put down that dying 
 man you are carrying to the hospital, and come 
 and help me. Oh, pitiless Saragossans, how 
 God is chastising you ! " Seeing that none 
 came to help him, he went into the house, but 
 came out again, crying out in desperation, 
 '7 257 
 
_ Saragossa 
 
 " Already it is too late to save anything ! 
 Everything is on fire. Oh, my Virgin del 
 Pilar, why dost thou not perform a miracle for 
 me ? Why not give me such a gift as that 
 bestowed upon the children in the fiery furnace 
 of Babylon, so that I could go into the teeth 
 of the fire and save my receipts ! " 
 
 258 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 PRESENTLY he seated himself upon a pile 
 of stones, beating his brow from time to 
 time, and without loosening his hold of the 
 chicken, he laid his hand upon his heart, sigh- 
 ing deeply. I questioned him again about his 
 daughter, desiring to hear news of Augustine ; 
 and he said to me, — 
 
 " I was in that house in the Calle de Anon, 
 where we moved in yesterday. Everybody 
 told me that it was not safe there, and that we 
 had much better be in the middle of the town ; 
 but it does not suit me to go where everybody 
 else comes, and the place that I prefer is the 
 one that the rest abandon. This world is filled 
 with thieves and rascals. It is better that I 
 get away from them. We managed with a 
 lower room of that house. My daughter is 
 very much afraid of the cannon, and wished 
 to go elsewhere. When the mines began to 
 burst under the neighboring houses, she and 
 Guedita rushed away, terrified. I stayed alone, 
 thinking of the danger my things are in ; and 
 pretty soon some soldiers came with flaming 
 
 259 
 
Saragossa 
 
 torches ready to set fire to the house. Those 
 wretched cowards would not give me time to 
 collect my things. Far from pitying my con- 
 dition, they ridiculed me. I hid the box with 
 my receipts for fear that those who think it is 
 stuffed with money would carry it off; but it 
 was impossible to stay inside long. I was 
 surrounded with the bright flames, and choked 
 with the smoke. In spite of everything, I in- 
 sisted upon trying to save my box ; but it was 
 an impossible thing. I had to run. I could 
 not take anything. Great God ! I saved 
 nothing but this poor creature, forgotten by 
 its owners in the hen-house. It cost me a 
 good deal of trouble to catch it. I burned 
 one hand almost all over. Oh, cursed be he 
 who invented fire ! Why should one lose 
 one's fortune to amuse these heroes ! I had 
 two houses in Saragossa besides the one I lived 
 in. One of them, the one in the Calle de la 
 Sombre, is preserved to me still, although it is 
 without tenants. The other, which was called 
 Casa de los Duendes, back of the San Fran- 
 cisco is occupied by the troops, and everything 
 there has been torn to pieces for me. Ruin, 
 nothing but ruin ! Is it a right thing to burn 
 houses merely to retard the conquest by the 
 French ? " 
 
 260 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " War makes it necessary to do these 
 things," I answered him. " And this heroic 
 city desires to carry her defence to the last 
 extreme." 
 
 "And what induces Saragossa to wish to 
 carry her defence to the last extreme ? What 
 good does it do to the dead ? You may talk 
 to them of glory, of heroism, — of all those 
 notions. Before I ever come back to live in 
 an heroic city, I would go to a desert. I con- 
 cede that there should be a certain resistance, 
 but not to such a barbarous extreme as this. 
 It is true the burned buildings are worth little, 
 perhaps less than the great mass of charcoal 
 which will result. Don't let them come to 
 me with their foolish talk. Those fat sharpers 
 are already planning to make a good business 
 out of the carbon." 
 
 This made me laugh. My readers must 
 not think that I exaggerate, since he said all 
 this to me very nearly as I repeat it ; and those 
 who have the misfortune to know him would 
 most readily have faith in my veracity. If 
 Candiola had lived in Numantia, it would 
 have been said that the Numantines were 
 merchants of charcoal mixed with heroes. 
 
 "I am lost! I am ruined forever!" he 
 went on, crossing his hands forlornly. "Those 
 
Saragossa 
 
 receipts were part of my fortune. How am I 
 going to claim the amounts without any docu- 
 ments to show, and when almost all my debtors 
 are dead, and lying rotting about the streets ! 
 I said, and I repeat it, those who have made 
 me all this trouble are disobedient to God. It 
 is a mortal sin ; it is an unforgivable offence 
 to let themselves be killed when they owe 
 money on such old accounts that their credi- 
 tor will not be able to collect easily. Paying 
 up is very hard work ; so some of these people 
 say, ^ Let us wall ourselves in and burn with 
 the money.' But God is inexorable with this 
 heroic rabble, and to chastise them He will 
 resurrect them, so that they will yet have to 
 meet the constable and the notary. My God, 
 resurrect them ! Holy Virgin del Pilar, Santo 
 Domingo del Val, resurrect them, I pray 1 " 
 
 "And your daughter?" I asked with in- 
 terest. " Did she come out of the fire 
 unharmed ? " 
 
 " Do not speak of her to me as my daugh- 
 ter! " he replied sternly. " God has punished 
 me for her faults. I know now who her in- 
 famous admirer is. Who can it possibly be, 
 but that damned son of Don Jose Montoria 
 who studied to be a priest ! Mariquilla has 
 
 confessed it to me. Yesterday she was dress- 
 
 262 
 
Sarao;ossa 
 
 ing a wound he has on his arm, and this was 
 done before me. Did you ever hear of any- 
 thing so shameless ? " 
 
 As he said this. Dona Guedita, who was 
 looking anxiously for her master, came up 
 with a cup containing some sort of nourishment. 
 He took it hungrily ; and then, by force of 
 entreaty, we succeeded in getting him away 
 from there, taking him to the Organo alley, 
 where his daughter had taken refuge, in a 
 porch, with other shelterless ones. After growl- 
 ing at her a moment, Candiola went on into 
 the house, followed by his housekeeper. 
 
 " Where is Augustine ? " I asked Mariquilla. 
 
 " He was here a moment ago ; but some one 
 came to tell him of the death of his brother, 
 and he has gone. I heard it said that the 
 family is in the Calle de las Rufas." 
 
 " His brother is dead ! Don Jose's eldest 
 son ! 
 
 " So they said, and he started in haste and 
 in great distress." 
 
 Without waiting to hear more, I also ran to 
 the Calle de las Rufas to do everything I could 
 to help in their trouble the generous family to 
 which I owed so much. Before arriving there, 
 I met Don Roque, who, with tears in his eyes^ 
 came up to speak to me. 
 
 263 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Gabriel/* he said, " God has laid his hand 
 heavily to-day upon our good friend." 
 
 " Is it the eldest son who is dead, Manuel 
 Montoria ? " 
 
 " Yes, and that is not the only trouble of 
 the family. Manuel was married, as you know, 
 and had a son four years of age. You see that 
 group of women ? Well, the wife of Mon- 
 toria's poor eldest son is there with her boy in 
 her arms. He is dying of the epidemic, and 
 is already in his agony. Is it not a horrible 
 state of things ? There is one of the first 
 families of Saragossa reduced to this sad con- 
 dition, without a roof to cover them, in want 
 of the most necessary things. That unfortu- 
 nate young mother was in the street all night, 
 exposed to the weather with her sick child in 
 her arms, expecting every instant that he would 
 breathe his last. After all it is better to be 
 here than in one of those pestilent cellars where 
 no one can breathe. I am thankful that I 
 and other friends have been able to help her 
 a little ; but what can one do when there is 
 scarcely any bread to be had ? The wine is all 
 finished, and a bit of beef is not to be found, 
 though I gave her a piece of ours." 
 
 Morning began to come. I went up to the 
 group of women and saw a sorrowful sight. 
 
 264 
 
Saragossa 
 
 With the anguished effort to save life, the 
 mother and the few women who kept her com- 
 pany were torturing the poor child with 
 remedies which everybody tries at such a time ; 
 but it needed only to see the victim of the 
 fever to realize the impossibility of saving that 
 little being whom death had already grasped 
 with his relentless hand. 
 
 The voice of Don Jose de Montoria obliged 
 me to hasten forward more quickly ; and in 
 an outer corner in the Calle de las Rufas a 
 second group completed the dreadful picture 
 of that unhappy family. Stretched upon the 
 ground was the body of Manuel, a young man 
 of thirty years, no less amiable and generous 
 in his life than his father and brother. A ball 
 had pierced his head, and from the small ex- 
 ternal wound, at the spot whence the ball had 
 emerged, a thread of blood still trickled, drop- 
 ping down the temple, the cheek, and the 
 neck, and falling down upon the skin beneath 
 the shirt. Because of this, the body did not 
 seem like that of one dead. 
 
 When I arrived, nobody had been able to 
 make his mother believe that he was dead, and 
 she held his head upon her knees, hoping to 
 revive him with tender words. Montoria, on 
 his knees at the right side, held his son's hand 
 
 265 
 
Saragossa 
 
 between his own hands and gazed at him, 
 speechless, not taking his eyes from him. As 
 white as the dead, the father did not weep. 
 
 " Wife ! " he exclaimed at last, " do not 
 pray God for the impossible. We have lost 
 our son." 
 
 " No, my son is not dead ! " exclaimed the 
 mother, in despair. " It is a lie. Why de- 
 ceive me ? How could it be possible for God 
 to take our son from us ? What have we 
 done to deserve such a punishment ? Manuel, 
 my son, why dost thou not answer me ? Why 
 dost thou not move ? Why dost thou not 
 speak? In a moment we will carry thee into 
 the house — but where is our house ? My 
 son grows cold on this bare ground. See how 
 chill are his hands and his face ! " 
 
 " You must go away from here, wife," said 
 Montoria, restraining the flood of his tears ; 
 "we will take care of Manuel." 
 
 " O my Lord God ! " moaned the mother, 
 " what ails my son that he does not speak, 
 nor move, nor wake ? He seems to be dead ; 
 but he is not, he cannot be dead ! Holy 
 Virgin del Pilar, is it not true that my son is 
 not dead ? " 
 
 " Leocadia,'* repeated Montoria, wiping 
 away the first tears that had fallen from his 
 
 266 
 
Saragossa 
 
 eyes, " go away from here a little, go away, 
 for God's sake! Be resigned, for God has 
 dealt us a heavy blow, and our son no longer 
 lives. He has died for his country." 
 
 " Why has my son died ! " exclaimed the 
 mother, straining the body to her in her arms, 
 as if she would not let it go. " No, no, no ! 
 What is the country to me ? Let my son be 
 given back to me. Manuel, my boy, do not 
 let them separate you from me ; those who 
 would tear you from my arms must kill me 
 first." 
 
 "O Lord God, Holy Virgin del Pilar," 
 said Don Jose de Montoria, in solemn tones, 
 " never have I knowingly and deliberately 
 offended ye. For the sake of religion and 
 the king I have given my goods and my sons. 
 Why, instead of my first-born, why have you 
 not taken my life a hundred times, miserable 
 old man, good for nothing ? Gentlemen, you 
 who are present, I am not ashamed to weep 
 before you ; my heart is utterly broken, but 
 Montoria is still the same. We will say to 
 thee, Happy art thou a thousand times, my 
 son, who hast died at the post of honor. Un- 
 happy those of us who still live, having lost 
 thee. But God wills it thus ; and we bow our 
 foreheads before the ruler of all things. Wife, 
 
 267 
 
Saragossa 
 
 God gave us peace, happiness, prosperity, and 
 good sons ; now it seems that He desires to 
 strip us of all. Let our hearts be filled with 
 humility, and let us not curse our fate. 
 Blessed be the hand that leads us, and let us 
 tranquilly hope for the blessing of a death 
 like this." 
 
 Dona Leocadia, who had no life left except 
 for weeping, was kissing the cold body of her 
 son. Don Jose, trying to subdue the mani- 
 festations of his own grief, rose and said in 
 a firm voice, — 
 
 " Leocadia, you must rise now. It is neces- 
 sary that our son should be buried." 
 
 "Buried!" exclaimed the mother. "Buried!" 
 And she could say no more, for she fell for- 
 ward, lifeless, clasping her son. 
 
 At the same moment we heard a heart-rend- 
 ing cry not far from there, and a woman came 
 running in anguish towards us. It was the 
 wife of the unfortunate Manuel, now widowed 
 and childless. Several of us tried to restrain 
 her, so that she might not witness the terrible 
 scene, after what she had just been through ; 
 but the unhappy lady struggled with us, beg- 
 ging us to let her see her husband. In the 
 mean time Don Jose, leaving us, went over to 
 where the body of his grandson was lying, 
 
 268 
 
Saragossa 
 
 took him in his arms, and carried him and put 
 him down near Manuel. The woman needed 
 all of our care ; and while Dona Leocadia con- 
 tinued without consciousness or motion, hold- 
 ing the corpse embraced in her arms, her 
 daughter-in-law, fevered with grief, was run- 
 ning about after imaginary enemies, threaten- 
 ing to tear them to pieces. We tried to hold 
 her, but she escaped from us. At times she 
 laughed with frightful laughter, and presently 
 she knelt before us, praying us to return the 
 two bodies that we had taken away. 
 
 People passed, — soldiers, friars, peasants, — 
 all seeing this with indifference, because every 
 one had passed through similar scenes. Hearts 
 were hardened, and souls seemed to have lost 
 their most beautiful faculties, preserving noth- 
 ing but a rude heroism. At last the poor 
 woman yielded to fatigue, to the exhaustion 
 of her own pain, lying passive in my arms 
 as if she were dead. We looked about for 
 some cordial or some kind of nourishment to 
 revive her; but we had none, and the people 
 who saw our need had work enough to attend 
 to their own. In the mean time, Don Jose 
 helped by his son Augustine, who also con- 
 trolled his bitter grief, loosened the body 
 from the arms of Dona Leocadia. The state 
 
 269 
 
Saragossa 
 
 of this unhappy lady was such that it seemed 
 almost as if we should have to mourn another 
 death that day. Presently Montoria repeated, 
 
 " It is necessary that my son be buried ! " 
 
 He looked about ; we all looked about, 
 and saw numbers of unburied bodies. In the 
 Calle de las Rufas there were many ; and the 
 Calle de la Imprenta (now the Calle de Flandro) 
 close by had been made into a sort of receiving 
 house. It is not exaggeration, that which I saw 
 and will tell you : Innumerable bodies were 
 piled up in the narrow way, forming a broad 
 wall from house to house. It was dreadful to 
 see, and those who saw it were condemned to 
 have before their mind's eyes for all their lives 
 that funeral pyre made of the bodies of their 
 fellow-beings. It may seem that I am invent- 
 ing, but this thing happened : a man entered 
 the Calle de la Imprenta and began to shout. 
 At a window appeared another man, who replied 
 to him, saying, " Come up !" 
 
 Then the other, thinking to make a shorter 
 cut than by the house door and the staircase, 
 climbed up over the heap of bodies, and reached 
 the second story, one of whose windows served 
 him for a door. 
 
 In many other streets, the same thing hap- 
 pened. Who could think of giving them 
 
 270 
 
Saragossa 
 
 sepulchre ? For every pair of useful arms, and 
 for every spade, there were fifty dead. Three 
 hundred to four hundred were perishing daily 
 with the epidemic. Every bloody battle had 
 carried off a thousand more ; and already Sara- 
 gossa began to seem a great city depopulated of 
 living creatures. 
 
 Montoria, on seeing how things were, said : 
 
 " My son and my grandson will not have \ 
 the privilege of sleeping beneath the ground. 
 Their souls are in heaven. What matters the 
 rest ? We must leave them thus in this gate- ' 
 way of the Calle de las Rufas. Augustine, my 
 son, it is best for you to go back to the lines. 
 The officers are able to spare fewer than ever. 
 I believe that they are in need of men at the 
 Magdalena. I have now no son, man, but you. 
 If you die, what would be left me? But duty 
 is first ; and, before seeing thee a coward, I pre- 
 fer to see thee bleeding like thy poor brother 
 with thy temple pierced by the enemy's ball." 
 
 Then placing his hand upon the head of his 
 son, who was kneeling uncovered beside the 
 body of Manuel, he continued, lifting his eyes 
 to heaven, — 
 
 " Lord, if thou hast willed to take my second 
 son, also, take me to my first. When the siege 
 is over, I desire to live no longer ; my poor wife 
 
 271 
 
Saragossa 
 
 and I have had our share of happiness. We 
 have received too many blessings to speak 
 against the hand which has wounded us. Hast 
 thou not done enough to prove us ? Must my 
 second son also perish ? Come, senors," he said 
 presently, " let us disperse. Perhaps we are 
 needed elsewhere." 
 
 " Senor Don Jose," said Don Roque, weep- 
 ing, " will you not retire also, and let your 
 friends fulfil this sad duty ? " 
 
 " No ; I am man for all that must be done, 
 and God has given me a soul that does not 
 flinch and will not quail." 
 
 He lifted the body of Manuel, aided by one 
 of the others, while Augustine and I lifted his 
 grandchild, to place both at the entrance of the 
 Calle de las Rufas, where many other families 
 had lain their dead. Montoria, as he put down 
 the body, breathed a long sigh, and let his arms 
 fall as if the effort made had exhausted his 
 energies, and said, — 
 
 " Truly, gentlemen, I am not now able to 
 deny that I am tired. Yesterday, I felt young ; 
 to-day, I am very old." 
 
 Montoria had indeed aged visibly, and one 
 night had taken ten years of his life. He sat 
 down upon a stone, and, putting his elbows on 
 his knees, hid his face in his hands. He re- 
 
 272 
 
Saragossa 
 
 mained in this attitude for a long time, and 
 none of those present interfered with his 
 grief Dona Leocadia, her daughter, and her 
 daughter in-law, assisted by two old servants 
 of the family, were in the Coso. Don Roque, 
 who went and came from one place to the 
 other, said, — 
 
 " The senora remains very weak. They are 
 praying earnestly now and weeping. They are 
 sadly downcast, the poor ladies. Boys, it is 
 very necessary that we look about town, and 
 see if a little something in the way of nourish- 
 ment cannot be found." 
 
 Montoria rose then, wiped away the tears 
 which coursed freely from his burning eyes, 
 saying,— 
 
 " There is no lack of food still in town, 
 according to my belief. Don Roque, my 
 friend, will you not go and find something to 
 eat, let it cost what it may ? " 
 
 " Yesterday I paid five duros for a hen in 
 the market," said one of the old servants of 
 the house. 
 
 " But to-day there are none," said Don 
 Roque. " I was there only a moment ago." 
 
 " Friends, look about and find something. 
 I need nothing for myself." 
 
 He was saying this when we heard the 
 i8 273 
 
Saragossa 
 
 agreeable cackle of a fowl. We all looked 
 joyfully towards the entrance of the street, 
 and we saw Candiola, who carried in his 
 left hand the chicken we know of, caressing 
 its black plumage with his right. Before they 
 asked him for it, he approached Montoria 
 slowly, and said, — 
 
 " A doubloon for the chicken." 
 
 " What a starved thing it is ! " exclaimed 
 Don Roque. " The poor creature is little 
 more than bones.*' 
 
 I was not able to restrain my anger at seeing 
 such shining evidence of the repugnant mean- 
 ness and hard-heartedness of Candiola. So I 
 went up to him, and snatched the chicken from 
 his hands, saying violently, — 
 
 " This chicken is stolen ! Come, you mis- 
 erable miser, one would sell one's own cheaper! 
 This was sold for five duros yesterday in the 
 market. Five duros you may have, you 
 coward, you thief, not a fraction more ! " 
 
 Candiola began to howl for his chicken, and 
 was on the point of getting a good thrash- 
 ing, when Don Jose de Montoria intervened, 
 saying, — 
 
 " Let him have what he wishes. Give 
 Senor Candiola the doubloon that he charges 
 for this fowl." He gave him the extortionate 
 
 274 
 
Saragossa 
 
 amount, which Candiola was not slow to 
 accept ; and then our friend went on thus, — 
 
 " Senor Candiola, let us speak together. 
 Now, about that wherein I offended you. Yes 
 — a few days ago — about that affair of the 
 blows. There are times when one is not 
 master of one's self, when the blood mounts 
 up to the head. It is true that you provoked 
 me, and you charged more for the flour than 
 the Captain-General had ordered. It is true, 
 Don Jeronimo, my friend, that I shook you 
 off, and you see — yet — one could not help that 
 and — I, I believe the — v/ell, I suppose that my 
 hand flew away from me, and I did something." 
 
 "Senor Montoria," said Candiola, "a day 
 will come when we shall again have authorities 
 in Saragossa, Then we shall meet again face 
 to face." 
 
 " Are you going to make it a matter of 
 justices and notaries ? That 's bad. That 
 which is past — it was an access of anger, one 
 of those things which cannot be helped. My 
 mind now is filled with the thought that I am 
 in trouble, very great trouble. One does not 
 wish to offend one's neighbor." 
 
 " It is not much to offend him, after robbing 
 him," said Don Jeronimo, looking about at us 
 all, and smiling contemptuously. 
 
 275 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " It was not exactly robbing/* said Don 
 Jose, patiently ; " because I did that which the 
 Captain-General commanded. The offence of 
 word and deed was undeniable ; and now when 
 I saw you coming with the chicken, I deter- 
 mined at once to own up that I did wrong. 
 My conscience urged it upon me. Ah, Seiior 
 Candiola, I am very unhappy ! When one is 
 happy, one does not know his faults. But it 
 is true, Don Jeronimo, that as I saw you com- 
 ing toward me just now, I felt desirous to ask 
 your pardon for those blows. I hold out the 
 hand that offended. So it is. I don't know 
 what I am doing — yes, I do request you to 
 forgive me, and let us be friends. Senor Don 
 Jeronimo, let us be friends, let us be recon- 
 ciled, and not make a permanent grudge out 
 of an old resentment. Hatred poisons the 
 soul, and the remembrance of not having 
 done right oppresses us with an insupportable 
 weight." 
 
 " After an act of robbery, you think all can 
 be arranged with hypocritical words," said 
 Candiola, turning his back and skulking away 
 from the group, muttering, " Senor Montoria 
 should talk of refunding the price of the flour. 
 Begging forgiveness of me ! I have lived 
 to see all there is to see." 
 
 276 
 
Saragossa 
 
 He moved slowly away. Montoria, seeing 
 that several of us were about to pursue the 
 insolent cur, said, — 
 
 ^^Let him go in peace. Let us have com- 
 passion on that unfortunate man." 
 
 277 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 ON the third of February, the French 
 gained possession of the Convent of 
 Jerusalem/ which was between Santa Engracia 
 and the hospital. The battle which succeeded 
 the conquest of such an important position was 
 as bloody as those of Las Tenerias. 
 
 Don Marquis Simono, the distinguished 
 commander of engineers, was one of those who 
 died there. In the suburb, the besiegers had 
 advanced but little; and in six or seven days* 
 effort, they had not gained possession of the 
 Calle de Puerta Quemada. 
 
 The authorities understood that it would be 
 difficult to prolong the resistance much longer, 
 and with offers of money and honors tried to 
 rouse the patriots anew. In a proclamation 
 of the second of February, asking for means, 
 Palafox said, "I am giving my two watches 
 and twenty silver dishes, which are all I have 
 
 1 To-day the Convent of Jerusalem still exists in a restored 
 condition. Its facade is towards the Hall of Independence. 
 The hospital occupied the place where the Hotel de T Europe 
 stands. The present Palace of Deputies for the Province was 
 constructed on the site of the Convent of San Francisco. 
 
 278 
 
Saragossa 
 
 left." In that of the fourth of February, he 
 offered to give especial honors, to make cabal- 
 leros of the twelve men who should most dis- 
 tinguish themselves ; a military order of nobility 
 was created for them, called the Infanzones. 
 In the proclamation of the ninth, he mourned 
 the indifference and readiness to yield, exhibited 
 by some citizens at the misfortunes of their 
 country ; and after intimating that this loss of 
 heart was brought about by French gold, he 
 threatened dire punishment for those who 
 showed themselves cowards. 
 
 The battles of the third, fourth, and fifth 
 were not so bloody as the last which I have 
 described. The French and Spanish were 
 perishing with fatigue. The street entrances 
 which we were holding in the Plazuela de la 
 Magdalena were defended with cannon, and 
 repulsed the enemy's two advances from the 
 Calle de Palomar and the Calle de Pabostre. 
 The remains of the Seminary were also bristling 
 with artillery ; and the French, sure of not 
 being able to drive us from there by ordinary 
 means, were working at their mines without 
 ceasing. 
 
 My battalion was now one with that of the 
 Estremadura, and indeed what was left of both 
 was scarcely three companies. Augustine 
 
 279 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Montoria was captain, and I was promoted 
 lieutenant on the second. We did not return 
 to service in Las Tenerias. They sent us to 
 guard San Francisco, — a vast edifice which 
 offered good positions for our guns against the 
 French, who were estabhshed in the Convent 
 of Jerusalem. Very short rations were now 
 dealt out to us ; and those of us who were 
 counted among the officers ate in the same 
 mess with the soldiers. Augustine kept his 
 bread to give to Mariquilla. 
 
 After the fourth day, the French began min- 
 ing towards the hospital and San Francisco, in 
 order to take it ; for they knew well that it 
 would be impossible in any other way. In order 
 to hinder them we countermined, intending to 
 blow them up before they could blow us up. 
 This toilsome labor in the bowels of the earth 
 can be compared to nothing else in the world. 
 We seemed to ourselves to have left off being 
 men, and to be converted into another kind 
 of creatures, into cold inhabitants of caverns, 
 without feeling, far from the sun and the pure 
 air and the lovely light of day. We built 
 long galleries, working ceaselessly like the 
 worm that builds his house in the darkness of 
 earth, shaping it like his own body. Between 
 the blows of our picks, we heard, like a muffled 
 
 280 
 
Saragossa 
 
 echo, the picks of the French. After having 
 been beaten and destroyed on the surface, we 
 expected momentarily to be exterminated in 
 the dreadful night of those sepulchres. 
 
 The Convent of San Francisco had vast sub- 
 terranean wine-cellars under its choir. The 
 edifices which the French occupied farther 
 down had these also, and it was unusual for a 
 house not to have a deep cellar. In these 
 many of our enemies perished, sometimes by 
 the falling in of floors, sometimes wounded 
 from afar by our balls, which penetrated into 
 the most hidden places. The galleries opened 
 by the spades of both sides met at last in one 
 of these cellars. By the light of our torches, 
 we saw the French, like fantastic goblin figures 
 engendered by the reddish light and the sin- 
 uosities of the old Moorish dungeon. They did 
 not see us, and we began firing at them ; but as 
 we were provided with hand-grenades, we hurled 
 these also, putting them to flight, following 
 them afterwards at arms-length the whole dis- 
 tance through their galleries. All this seemed 
 a nightmare, — one of those dreadful struggles 
 which at times we all wage with the abhorrent 
 figures that people the terrible caverns of our 
 dreams. But it was not a dream, though it 
 repeated itself at many points. 
 
 2S1 
 
Saragossa 
 
 In this pursuit, we showed ourselves fre- 
 quently ; and at last emerged in the Coso, — 
 the central place of reunion, and at the same 
 time, park, hospital, and general -cemetery of 
 the besieged. One afternoon (I believe it was 
 the fifth), we were in the gateway of the con- 
 vent, with several boys of the battalion of 
 Estremadura and San Pedro. We were talking 
 about the way the siege dragged along, and all 
 agreed that resistance would very soon be 
 impossible. Our group was constantly en- 
 larged. Don Jose de Montoria came up, and, 
 saluting us with a sad face, seated himself upon 
 a wooden bench near the doorway. 
 
 " Do you hear what they are saying here, 
 Don Jose ? '' I said to him. " They believe 
 that it is impossible to hold out many days 
 more.*' 
 
 " Don't get discouraged, boys," he answered. 
 " The Captain-General says truly in his pro- 
 clamation that a good deal of French gold is 
 in circulation in this city." 
 
 A Franciscan who had come to nurse 
 several dozen of the sick took up the word, 
 and said, — 
 
 " It is painful to hear them. They do not 
 talk of anything but surrender here. It does 
 not seem as if this is Saragossa any longer. 
 
 282 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Who could believe it of a people tried in the 
 fire of the first siege ? " 
 
 "Your reverence is right!" exclaimed Mon- 
 toria. " It is shameful ; and even those of 
 us who have hearts of bronze feel ourselves 
 attacked by this weakness, which spreads faster 
 than the epidemic. In casting up the ac- 
 counts, I don't know how to reckon for this 
 novelty of surrender, when we have never done 
 it before, porra ! If there is something to 
 come after this world, as our religion teaches 
 us, why should we worry about a day more or 
 less of life ? " 
 
 " The truth is, Seiior Don Jose," said the 
 friar, " that the provisions are going fast ; and 
 when there is no fiour everybody is irritable." 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee, Father Luengo," exclaimed 
 Montoria. " Yet if these people, accustomed 
 to the luxury of other times, cannot get along 
 without bread and meat, there is nothing 
 to say ! As if there were not other things 
 to eat ! I believe in resisting to the last 
 breath of life, cost what it may. I have experi- 
 enced terrible misfortunes ; the loss of my first- 
 born and of my grandson has filled my heart 
 with sorrow ; but at times my regard for 
 national honor fills my soul so that there is 
 no room left for any other sentiment. One 
 
 283 
 
Saragossa 
 
 son is left to me, the only consolation of my 
 life, the one hope of my house and my name. 
 Far from taking him out of danger, I insisted 
 upon his persisting in the defence. If I should 
 lose him, I would die of grief; but in order to 
 save our national honor, I am willing that my 
 only child shall perish." 
 
 "And according to what I have heard," said 
 Father Luengo, " the Seiior Augustine has 
 performed prodigies of valor. It is plain that 
 the greenest laurels of this campaign belong to 
 the brilliant fighters of the Church." 
 
 " No ; my son no longer belongs only to 
 the Church. It is necessary that he should re- 
 nounce the plan of being a clergyman. I can- 
 not be left without direct succession." 
 
 " Ah, you are talking of succession and 
 of marriages ! Augustine must have changed 
 since he became a soldier. Formerly his con- 
 versation was all of theology, and I never heard 
 him talk of love. He is a chap who has Saint 
 Thomas at his finger-tips, and does not know 
 in what part of their faces girls carry their 
 eyes." 
 
 "Augustine will sacrifice his beloved voca- 
 tion for my sake. If we come out alive from 
 the siege, and the Virgin del Pilar grants me 
 life, I intend to marry him quickly to a 
 
 284 
 
Saragossa 
 
 woman who is his equal in position and 
 fortune." 
 
 While he was saying this, we saw Mariquilla 
 Candiola approaching us, sobbing ; on coming 
 up to me she asked, — 
 
 " Senor de Araceli, have you seen my 
 father? " 
 
 " No, Seiiorita Dona Mariquilla," I an- 
 swered, " I have not seen him since yesterday. 
 It may be that he is in the ruins of his house, 
 busying himself trying to get something out." 
 
 " No, he is not," said Mariquilla, anxiously; 
 " I have looked for him everywhere." 
 
 " Have you been over back here, near San 
 Diego ? Senor Candiola sometimes goes to 
 look at his house los Duendes, to see if it 
 has been destroyed." 
 
 " I am going there instantly ! " 
 
 As she disappeared, Montoria said, " She is, 
 I am told, the daughter of the miser Candiola. 
 Faith, she 's very pretty, and does not look like 
 the daughter of such a wolf — God forgive me, 
 I mean good man." 
 
 "She's not bad looking," said the friar; 
 " but I imagine she 's a good one. Saints 
 don't come of Candiola timber." « 
 
 " One must not speak ill of one's neighbor," 
 said Don Jose." j 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Candida is nobody's neighbor. The girl 
 is always in the company of the soldiers since 
 they lost their house." 
 
 " She goes among them to help take care of 
 the wounded." 
 
 " It may be ; but it looks to me as if she 
 likes best those who are strong and hearty. 
 Her charming little face does not show a whiff 
 of shame." 
 
 " You snake in the grass ! " 
 
 "It is the truth," said the friar. "She's a 
 chip of the old block. Do they not say all 
 sorts of things about her mother, Pepa 
 Rincon? " 
 
 " Perhaps she used to take a little something 
 to make her happy." 
 
 " It 's not a bad kind of happiness. When 
 she was abandoned by her third gallant, Senor 
 Don Jeronimo took charge of her." 
 I " Enough of scandal," said Montoria. 
 " Even when we talk of the worst people in 
 the world, we can at least leave them to their 
 own consciences." 
 
 " I would not give a farthing for the souls 
 
 ' of all the Candiolas put together," replied 
 
 the friar. " But there comes the Senor Don 
 
 Jeronimo, if I am not mistaken. He has seen 
 
 us, and is coming over here." 
 
 286 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Candida was indeed coming slowly along 
 the Coso, and came up to the convent door. 
 
 "Good-evening to you, Seiior Don Jer- 
 onimOj" said Montoria. " I live in hope that 
 our grudge is all gone." 
 
 "A moment ago your innocent young 
 daughter was here looking for you," said 
 Luengo, maliciously. 
 
 " Where is she ? " 
 
 " She has gone to San Diego," said a sol- 
 dier. " Maybe some of the French about 
 here have carried her off." 
 
 " Perhaps they respect her, knowing that she 
 is the daughter of Senor Don Jeronimo," said 
 Luengo. " Is this true, friend Candiola, that 
 they are telling about here ? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "That you have been inside the French 
 lines, holding confabs with that mob ? " 
 
 " I ? What vile calumny ! " exclaimed the 
 miser. "My enemies are saying that to ruin 
 me. Is it you, Senor de Montoria, who have 
 set these stories going ? " 
 
 " Not even in thought," said the patriot ; 
 " but I have certainly heard others say it. I 
 remember defending you, assuring them that 
 Seiior Candiola is incapable of selling himself 
 to the French." 
 
 287 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " My enemies, my enemies wish to ruin 
 me ! What calumnies they invent against me ! 
 They wish to make me lose my honor, since I 
 have lost my estate. Gentlemen, my house in 
 the Calle de la Sombra has lost part of its roof. 
 Is there any such trouble as mine ! The one 
 that I have here back of San Francisco, next 
 to the garden of San Diego, is still preserved ; 
 but it is occupied by the troops, and they 
 will finish it for me, and it *s a beauty.'* 
 
 " That house is worth very little, Senor Don 
 Jeronimo," said the friar. " If I have not for- 
 gotten, it is ten years since anybody would live 
 in It. 
 
 " That is because some crazy people gave 
 out that it has ghosts in it. But let us drop 
 that. Have you seen my daughter about 
 here ? " 
 
 " That virginal white lily has gone over to 
 San Diego in search of her amiable papa." 
 
 " My daughter has lost all her good sense." 
 
 " Something of that sort.'' 
 
 " Yet Senor de Montoria is all to blame for 
 it. My wicked enemies give me no time to 
 breathe." 
 
 " What do you say ? " exclaimed my pro- 
 tector. " How am I to blame for what this 
 child has inherited of the evil ways of her 
 
 288 
 
Saragossa 
 
 mother ? I mean to say (my cursed tongue !) 
 that her mother was an exemplary lady." 
 
 " The insults and scorn of Senor Montoria 
 do not affect me/' said the miser, with biting 
 contempt. " Instead of insulting me, the Senor 
 Don Jose ought to keep his son Augustine in 
 order, that libertine who has turned my daugh- 
 ter's head. No, I will not give her to him in 
 marriage, though he begs on his knees. He 
 wants to rob me of her. A pretty fellow, that 
 Don Augustine ! No, no, he shall not have her 
 for a wife. She can do better, much better, 
 my Mariquilla ! " 
 
 Don Jose de Montoria turned white on 
 hearing this, and stepped hastily towards Can- 
 diola, with the intention doubtless of renewing 
 the scene in the Calle de Anton Trillo. But 
 he restrained himself, and said in a mournful 
 voice, — 
 
 " My God, give me strength to govern my 
 anger. Is it possible to keep my temper and 
 to have humility in the presence of this man ? 
 I asked his pardon for the wrong which I did 
 him. I humbled myself before him. I offered 
 him a friendly hand; and now he is here injur- 
 ing and insulting me in the most disgusting 
 fashion. Wretched man ! beat me, kill me, 
 drink all my blood, and sell my bones after- 
 19 289 
 
Saragossa 
 
 wards to make buttons ; but let not that vile 
 tongue of yours cast ignominy upon my be- 
 loved son. What is this that you say about 
 my Augustine ? '* 
 
 " The truth;* 
 
 "I do not know how to contain myself! 
 Gentlemen, witness my self-control. I do not 
 wish to let myself go. I do not wish to tram- 
 ple on any one. I do not wish to offend God. 
 I forgive this man his calumnies ; but on condi- 
 tion that he quit my presence at once, because 
 seeing him I cannot answer for myself." 
 
 Candiola, alarmed at these words, entered the 
 convent gate. Father Luengo took Montoria 
 down the Coso. 
 
 At the same time there began to be heard 
 among the soldiers there an angry murmur 
 which indicated sentiments hostile to the father 
 of Mariquilla, who, accustomed to this sort of 
 thing, did not realize that it was anything un- 
 usual. He tried to get away, as they pushed 
 him from one to the other ; but they held him, 
 and, without knowing exactly how, he was 
 brought swiftly into the cloister by the threat- 
 ening group. Then a voice cried, in angry 
 accents, — 
 
 " To the well, throw him into the well ! " 
 
 Candiola was seized by many hands, pounded 
 
 290 
 
Saragossa 
 
 and torn, and pulled about more than ever be- 
 fore. 
 
 "He is one of those who go about distribut- 
 ing French bribes to the troops," said one. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " cried others. " Yesterday they 
 say that he was walking about in the market 
 distributing money." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the unfortunate man, in 
 a choked voice, " I swear to you that I have 
 never distributed any money." 
 
 And this was the truth. 
 
 " Last night they say he was seen sneaking 
 over into the French camp." 
 
 " He did not come back until morning. To 
 the well with him ! " 
 
 One of my comrades and I tried for awhile 
 to save Candiola from certain death ; but we 
 only succeeded by force of prayers and per- 
 suasions, saying, — 
 
 " Boys, do not commit an outrage. What 
 harm can this ridiculous old wretch do ^ " 
 
 "It is true," said Candiola, with the calm- 
 ness of despair; "what harm can I do who am 
 always busy aiding those in need ? Do not 
 kill me ! You are soldiers of the Estremadura 
 and las Penas de San Pedro; you are all good 
 fellows. You were burning those houses in Las 
 Tenerias where I found the chicken that I sold 
 
 291 
 
Saragossa 
 
 for a doubloon. Who says that I sell myself to 
 the French ? I hate them ; I cannot bear to 
 look at them ; and I love you as my own life. 
 I have lost everything. Leave me my life, at 
 least." 
 
 These pleadings, and my prayers and those 
 of my friend, softened the soldiers a little ; and, 
 when their first outburst of anger was over, it 
 was easy for us to save the wretched old man. 
 The soldiers were presently relieved, and he 
 was in perfect safety ; but he never even 
 thanked us when we offered him a bit of 
 bread, after saving his life. A little later, 
 when he recovered his breath enough to walk, 
 he went on out of the street and joined his 
 daughter. 
 
 292 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THAT afternoon almost all the efforts of 
 the French were directed against the 
 suburb from the left of the Ebro. They as- 
 saulted the Monastery of Jesus, and bombarded 
 the Church of the Virgin del Pilar, where the 
 greater number of sick and infirm had found 
 refuge, believing that the sanctity of the place 
 offered them greater security than any other 
 spot. 
 
 In the centre of the city, we did not work 
 much that day. All our attention was concen- 
 trated upon the mines, and our efforts directed 
 to giving the enemy evidence that, before con- 
 senting to be blown up ourselves, we would 
 discuss blowing them up, or at least flying 
 upwards together. 
 
 At night both armies seemed given over to 
 peaceful repose. The rough blows of the pick 
 were no longer heard in the subterranean gal- 
 leries. I sallied forth ; and near San Diego I 
 found Augustine and Mariquilla, who were 
 talking quietly together, seated sedately upon 
 the doorstep of the house los Duendes. They 
 
 293 
 
Saragossa 
 
 were very glad to see me ; and I joined them, 
 sharing the scraps of bread of which they were 
 making their supper. 
 
 " We have nowhere to stay," said Mari- 
 quilla. " We were in a portico in the Organo 
 alley ; but we were driven out. Why is it that 
 so many people detest my poor father ? What 
 harm has he done them ? We took refuge 
 afterwards in a corner of the Calle de las 
 Urreas, and were driven out of there too. 
 We sat down afterwards under an arch in the 
 Coso, and all those who were there fled away 
 from us. My father was furious." 
 
 " Mariquilla of my heart," said Augustine, 
 " let us hope that the siege will soon be fin- 
 ished by some means or other. I hope that 
 God will let us both die, if living we may not 
 be happy. I do not know why, among so 
 many misfortunes, my heart is full of hope ; I 
 do not know why I have such happy thoughts, 
 and think constantly of a cheerful future. Why 
 not ? Must everything be dreadful and un- 
 fortunate ? The troubles of my family have 
 been very great. My mother neither receives 
 nor desires to receive any consolation. No- 
 body is able to get her away from the place 
 where the bodies of my brother and my 
 nephew are ; and when by force we take her to 
 
 294 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ever so great a distance, she immediately begins 
 to drag herself along over the stones of the 
 street to try and return. She and my sister 
 and my sister-in-law are pitiable to see, refus- 
 ing to take food, and in their prayers deliriously 
 confusing the names of all the saints. This 
 afternoon we have at last contrived to carry 
 them to a sheltered spot where we obliged 
 them to get a little repose, and to take a little 
 food. Mariquilla, how sadly God has dealt 
 with my people ! Have I not reason to hope 
 that at last He will pity us ? " 
 
 "Yes,'* said Mariquilla; "my heart tells me 
 that we have passed the hard part of our life, 
 and that now we shall have peaceful days. 
 The siege will soon be finished ; because, ac- 
 cording to what my father says, this holding out 
 can be only a matter of days. This morning 
 I went to the Pilar ; when I knelt before the 
 Virgin, it seemed to me that our holy Lady 
 looked at me and smiled. Then I came out of 
 the church, my heart was beating with a keen 
 delight. I looked at the sky, and the bombs 
 seemed to me like toys ; I looked at the 
 wounded, and it seemed to me that they were 
 all healed; I looked at the people, and could 
 almost believe that they all felt the same hap- 
 piness which was overflowing my bosom. I 
 
 29s 
 
Saragossa 
 
 do not know how it is with me to-day, I am 
 so happy. God and the Virgin have surely 
 taken pity on us ; and this beating of my 
 heart, this joyous restlessness, without care 
 for what may happen, must mean good for- 
 tune after so many tears ! " 
 
 " All that you say is true,*' said Augustine, 
 holding Mariquilla lovingly to him. " Your 
 presentiments are laws ; your heart, one with 
 the divine, cannot be deceived. Listening to 
 you, it seems to me as if the troubles that 
 crush us melt away in the air, and I breathe 
 with delight the breath of happiness. I hope 
 that your father will not oppose your marry- 
 ing me." 
 
 " My father is good," said Mariquilla. " I 
 believe that if his neighbors in the city had not 
 worried him so much that he would have been 
 kinder. But they cannot bear the sight of him. 
 This afternoon he was badly maltreated again 
 in the cloister of San Francisco, and when he 
 joined me in the Coso he was furious, and 
 swore that he would be revenged. I tried to 
 quiet him, but all in vain. They drive us 
 away from everywhere. He doubled up his 
 fists, and angrily threatened those who were 
 there near us. Afterwards, he ran away and 
 came here. I thought he was coming to see 
 
 296 
 
Saragossa 
 
 if they had destroyed this house, which is ours. 
 I followed him. He turned towards me as if 
 frightened at hearing my footsteps, and said to 
 me, ' Stupid meddler, who told you to follow 
 me?' I answered nothing; but seeing that he 
 advanced to the French lines, as if he meant 
 to cross over, I tried to detain him, and said 
 to him, ' Father, where are you going ? * 
 Then he answered, ' Do you know that my 
 friend who served last year in Saragossa, the 
 Swiss Captain Don Carlos Lindener, is in the 
 French army ? I am going to see him. I 
 remember that he owes me a certain amount.' 
 He made me stay here, and went on. I am 
 afraid that if his enemies know that he crossed 
 over into the French lines, they will call him 
 a cxaitor. I do not know whether it is the 
 great affection that I have for him, but he 
 seems to me incapable of such action. I am 
 afraid though that there is something wrong, 
 and for this reason I long for the end of the 
 siege. Is it not true that it will soon be 
 finished, Augustine ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mariquilla, it will soon be finished, 
 and we will be married. My father v/ishes me 
 to marry." 
 
 " Who is your father ? What is his name ? 
 Is it not time yet to tell me that? " 
 
 297 
 
Saragossa 
 
 "You shall know it another time. My 
 father is one of the principal personages in 
 Saragossa, and much beloved. Why wish to 
 know more ? " 
 
 " Yesterday I tried to inquire. I was curi- 
 ous. I asked several people I know that I 
 met in the Coso, ' Do you know what gentle- 
 man it is who has lost his eldest son ? ' But 
 so many are hke that, that they only laughed 
 at me." 
 
 " I will reveal it to you in good time, and 
 when in telling it to you I can give you good 
 news with it." 
 
 " Augustine, if I marry you, I wish that 
 you would take me away from Saragossa for 
 several days. I want for a little time to see 
 other houses, other trees, other scenes. I 
 wish to Uve for some days in places where 
 these things are not, among which I have suf- 
 fered so much." 
 
 " Yes, Mariquilla, my soul," exclaimed 
 Montoria, quite carried away ; " we will go 
 wherever we please, far away from here, to- 
 morrow even ; no, not to-morrow, for the siege 
 will not be raised. Day after to-morrow, in 
 short, sometime, when — God wills it." 
 
 " Augustine," added Mariquilla, in a sleepy 
 voice, " I wish that, after we return from our 
 
 298 
 
Saragossa 
 
 journey, that we might rebuild the house 
 where I was born. The cypress-tree is still 
 standing.'* 
 
 Mariquilla's head drooped forward, showing 
 that she was half overcome with sleep. 
 
 " Do you want to go to sleep, you poor 
 little thing ? " my friend said to her, taking 
 her in his arms. 
 
 " I have not slept at all for several nights," 
 replied the girl, closing her eyes. "Anxiety, 
 sorrow, and fear have kept me awake. To- 
 night weariness overcomes me, and I am so 
 peaceful now that it makes me wish to go to 
 sleep." 
 
 " Sleep in my arms, Mariquilla," said Augus- 
 ti^^ - "and may the peace that now fills thy 
 soul not leave thee when thou wakest." 
 
 After a little while, when we thought her 
 sleeping, Mariquilla, half asleep and half awake, 
 said, — 
 
 "Augustine, I do not wish my good Dona 
 Guedita to leave me ; she took such good 
 care of us when we were first engaged. You 
 see now I was right in telling you that my 
 father was in the French camp to collect his 
 bill — " 
 
 Then she spoke no more, and slept pro- 
 foundly. Augustine sat upon the ground, 
 
 299 
 
Saragossa 
 
 holding her on his knees and in his arms. I 
 covered her feet with my cloak. 
 
 Augustine and I were silent, so that our 
 voices might not disturb the sleep of the 
 young girl. The place was deserted enough. 
 Just back of us was the Casa los Duendes, 
 close by the Convent of San Francisco, and 
 opposite the college of San Diego, with its 
 orchard surrounded by high mud walls which 
 opened upon irregular and narrow alleys. 
 Through these marched the sentinels who had 
 been relieved, and the platoons going to the 
 picket lines or coming from there. The truce 
 was complete, and this repose signified a great 
 battle on the following day. Suddenly the 
 silence permitted me to hear muffled blows 
 under us, in the depths of the earth. I 
 understood that the French miners had reached 
 this point with their picks, and told Augustine 
 what I imagined it must be. He listened 
 attentively ; then he said to me, — 
 
 " That seems indeed like mining. But 
 how did they come here ? The galleries that 
 they made from the Jerusalem were all cut off 
 by ourselves. How would they be able to 
 take a step without meeting our men ? " 
 
 " This noise indicates that they are mining 
 from San Diego. They have a part of that 
 
 300 
 
Saragossa 
 
 building. Until now they have not been able 
 to reach the wine-cellars of the Convent of 
 San Francisco. If, by bad luck, they have 
 discovered that the passage from San Diego to 
 San Francisco is easy by the way under this 
 house, it is probable that this is the passage 
 that is being opened now." 
 
 " Run this instant to the convent," he said 
 to me. " Go down into the cellar, and if you 
 hear the noise, tell Renovales what is going 
 on. If anything happens, call me, and I will 
 follow." 
 
 Augustine remained alone with Mariquilla. 
 I went to the San Francisco, and going down 
 into che cellar met, together with other patriots, 
 an official of the engineers, who, when I had 
 expressed my fears, said to me, — 
 
 " They would not be able to get here by 
 the galleries under the Calle de Santa Engracia 
 from the Jerusalem and the hospital, because 
 our mine has made theirs useless, and a few 
 of our men will be able to keep them back. 
 Under this edifice we control the underground 
 chambers of the church, the wine-cellars, and 
 the other cellars which lead towards the cloister 
 at the east. There is a part of the convent 
 which has not been mined, at the west and 
 south ; but, there are no cellars there, and we 
 
 301 
 
Saragossa 
 
 did not believe it worth while to open galleries, 
 because it is not probable that they would 
 approach us from the two sides. We hold 
 the next house ; and I have examined it under- 
 ground, and found that the cellar was almost 
 joined to those of the chapter house. If they 
 controlled the house los Duendes, it would 
 be easy to carry explosives and blow up all 
 the southern and western part ; but that house 
 is ours, and from it to the French positions 
 opposite San Diego and Santa Rosa is a long 
 distance. It is not probable that they will 
 attack us in that place, and I do not know 
 that there is any existing communication be- 
 tween the house and San Diego or Santa Rosa 
 which would permit them to advance without 
 making it known." 
 
 We remained talking over this matter until 
 morning. At break of day Augustine came, 
 very happy, and saying that he had found 
 a lodging for Mariquilla in the same place 
 where his family was established. Then we 
 prepared for a strong effort that day, because 
 the French, who already held the hospital, or 
 rather its ruins, threatened to attack the San 
 Francisco, not by the underground way, but 
 in the open, and by the light of the sun. 
 
 302 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE possession of San Francisco would 
 decide the fate of the city. That 
 vast edifice, situated in the middle of the 
 Coso, gave an incontestable superiority to the 
 side which occupied it. The French began 
 cannonading it very early, with the intention 
 of opening a breach for the assault ; and the 
 Saragoc:,.ins transferred thither the greater part 
 of their forces to defend it. As the number of 
 soldiers was now greatly decreased, a large 
 number of leading citizens, who until then had 
 not served except as aids, took up arms. 
 Cereso, Sas, La Casa, Pidrafita, Escobar, Leiva, 
 Don Jose de Montoria, — all these good pa- 
 triots hastened to be among them. 
 
 In the narrow entrance of the Calle de San 
 Gil, and in the archway of Cineja, there were 
 cannon to restrain the enemy's advance. I was 
 sent to serve these pieces, with other soldiers of 
 the Estremadura regiment, because there were 
 scarcely any artillerymen left. When I took 
 leave of Augustine, who remained in the San 
 
 3^3 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Francisco in the face of the enemy, we em- 
 braced, believing that we should never see each 
 other again. 
 
 Don Jose de Montoria, finding himself in 
 the barricade of La Cruz del Coso, got a gun- 
 shot in the leg, and had to retire ; but leaning 
 against the wall of a house next to the arch of 
 Cineja, he kept on fighting for some time, until 
 he brought on a hemorrhage, and at last find- 
 ing himself very faint, he called me, and said to 
 me, — 
 
 " Seiior de Araceli, something is in my eyes. 
 I cannot see anything. Curse this blood, how 
 fast it runs out when it is most necessary to 
 keep it. Won't you lend me a hand ? " 
 
 " Senor," I said, running to him, and hold- 
 ing him up, " it would be better for you to 
 retire to your lodging." 
 
 " No, here is where I want to be. But, 
 Senor de Araceli, if I keep on bleeding, where 
 the devil is all this blood going ? It seems to 
 me as if my legs are stuffed with cotton. I 
 am falling to the ground like an empty bag." 
 
 He made tremendous efforts of endurance, 
 but almost lost consciousness, more from the 
 serious nature of his wound, than merely from 
 loss of blood, after being without food and 
 sleep, and in such trouble during these past 
 
 304 
 
Saragossa 
 
 days. Although he begged us to leave him 
 there against the wall, so that he should not 
 miss a single detail of the battle, we carried 
 him to his lodging, which was also in the Coso, 
 at the corner of the Calle del Refugio. The 
 family had been installed in an upper room. 
 The house was all full of wounded, and the 
 numbers of bodies deposited there very nearly 
 obstructed the entrance. It was difficult to 
 get through the narrow doorway and the rooms 
 within, because the men who had gone there 
 to die, crowded the place, and it was not easy 
 to distinguisn between the living and the dead. 
 
 Montoria said, when we entered there, 
 " Don't carry me upstairs, boys, where my 
 family is. Leave me here below. Here I see 
 a counter which just suits my purpose." 
 
 We put him where he said. This lower 
 story was a shop. Several of the wounded 
 and victims of the epidemic who had died that 
 day were under the counter, and many of the 
 sick were lying upon the infected ground on 
 pieces of cloth. 
 
 " Let us see," he said, '' if there is any charit- 
 able soul who will try a little to stop the gap 
 where the blood comes out." 
 
 A woman came forward to care for the 
 wounded man. It was Mariquilla Candiola. 
 20 305 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " God bless you, child," said Don Jose, see- 
 ing that she was bringing lint and linen to 
 bandage him. " Enough for now that you patch 
 up this leg a little. I don't believe there are 
 any bones broken." 
 
 While this was going on, some twenty 
 peasants came into the house to fire from the 
 windows upon the ruins of the hospital. 
 
 " Senor de AraceH, are you not going on 
 firing ? Wait a moment until I get up, for I 
 don't seem able to walk alone. I command 
 you to fire from the window. That *s a good 
 shot. Don't let them have time to breathe 
 over there at the hospital. Look here, lass, 
 make haste ! Have n't you a knife ? It would 
 be a good thing to cut off this piece of flesh 
 that's hanging. How goes it, Senor de 
 Araceli ? Are we going to win ? " 
 
 " It 's going all right," I answered from the 
 window. " They are falling back at the hos- 
 pital. San Francisco is a bone that is a little 
 hard to pick." 
 
 Mariquilla, meanwhile, was looking fixedly 
 at Montoria, and following his instructions in 
 caring for him with much solicitude and deft- 
 ness. 
 
 " You are a jewel, child," said my friend. 
 " It seems to me that I can scarcely feel your 
 
 306 
 
Saragossa 
 
 hands upon my wound. But what makes you 
 look at me so much ? Does my face look like 
 a monkey's ? Let 's see, is it finished ? I will 
 try to get up. But I am not able to sit up. 
 What sort of weak water is this in mv veins ! 
 Porr — I was going to say — I don't seem 
 able to correct that bad habit ! Senor de 
 Aracelij I don't do very well with my soul. 
 How goes the battle ? " 
 
 " Sefioi, <x thousand marvels ! Our valiant 
 peasants are working wonders ! " 
 
 Here a wounded officer was brought in for 
 whom a ligature was wanted. 
 
 " Everything goes as we would desire it to 
 go," he said to us. " They will not take San 
 Francisco. Those in the hospital have been 
 repulsed three times. But the most wonder- 
 ful thing, senors, took place beside San Diego. 
 I saw the French gain the orchard joining the 
 house Los Duendes, where they were met by 
 the bayonets of those brave soldiers of Ori- 
 huela commanded by Pino-Hermoso, who not 
 only dislodged them, but they say killed a lot 
 of them, and took thirty prisoners." 
 
 " I wish to go there ! Viva the battalion 
 of Orihuela ! Viva the Marquis of Pino- 
 Hermoso ! " exclaimed Don Jose de Montoria, 
 with tremendous fervor. " Senor de Araceli, 
 
 307 
 
Saragossa 
 
 let us go there ! Lift me up. Is n't there 
 a pair of crutches there ? Senors, my legs 
 have given out. But I will go there in spirit. 
 My heart is there. Good-bye, child, beauti- 
 ful little nurse. But what makes you look at 
 me so ? Do you know me ? I think I have 
 seen your face somewhere, but I don't re- 
 member where." 
 
 " I also have seen you once, only once,'* 
 answered Mariqu ilia, tactfully, "and God grant 
 you do not remember me ! " 
 
 " I shall not forget your kindness," said 
 Montoria. " You seem to be a good girl, and 
 very pretty, that 's sure. I am very grateful, 
 most grateful. But bring those crutches or 
 a stick, Senor de Araceli. Give me your arm. 
 What is this which goes back and forth before 
 my eyes ? Let us go over there and drive 
 the French out of the hospital." 
 
 Dissuading him from his rash idea of going 
 out, I started alone, when I heard an ex- 
 plosion so loud that no words have power 
 to describe it. It seemed as if the whole city 
 had been thrown into the air by the eruption 
 of an immense volcano from beneath its foun- 
 dations. All the houses trembled. The sky 
 was obscured by an immense cloud of smoke 
 and dust, and along the whole length of the 
 
 308 
 
Saragossa 
 
 street we saw pieces of wall falling, and shattered 
 fragments, and beams, roofs, tiles, showers of 
 earth, and all sorts of things. 
 
 " Holy Virgin del Pilar, save us ! " ex- 
 claimed Montoria. " It seems as if the whole 
 w.orld has blown up." 
 
 The sick and the wounded were crying out, 
 believing that their last hour had come. We 
 all commendea ourselves to God. 
 
 " What is it ? Is Saragossa still in exis- 
 tence ? " one asked. 
 
 " Are we blown up too ? " 
 
 " This terrible explosion must have been 
 in the Convent of San Francisco," said I. 
 
 " Let us run over there," cried Montoria, 
 trying to make strength of his weakness. 
 " Senor de Araceli, did they not say that all 
 precautions had been taken to defend San 
 Francisco ? Is n't there a pair of crutches 
 anywhere here ? " 
 
 We went into the Coso, where we were 
 immediately assured of the fact that a large 
 part of San Francisco had been blown up. 
 
 " My son was in the convent," said Mon- 
 toria, pale as the dead. " My God, if thou art 
 resolved upon his death also, may he die for 
 his country at the post of honor." 
 
 The loquacious beggar of whom I made 
 
 309 
 
Saragossa 
 
 mention In the first pages now approached us, 
 walking laboriously upon his crutches, and 
 seeming in a very bad state of health. 
 
 " Sursum Corda," I said to the patriot, 
 " give me your crutches. You are doing no 
 good with them." 
 
 " Do me the kindness to let me keep them 
 to get to that doorway," said the cripple, " and 
 then 1 will give them to you. I do not wish 
 to die in the middle of the street." 
 
 "Are you dying ? " 
 
 " It seems like it. I am burning with fever. 
 I was wounded in the shoulder yesterday, and 
 nobody has taken out the ball. I feel that 
 I am going. Your honor may have the 
 crutches." 
 
 " Have you come from San Francisco } " 
 
 " No, sir, I was in the Arch del Trenque. 
 There was a cannon there. We had been fir- 
 ing a great deal. But San Francisco has been 
 blown into the air when we least expected it. 
 The whole part to the south and the west came 
 to the ground, burying many people. There 
 has been treachery, people say. Adios, Seiior 
 Don Jose. Here I stay. My eyes are get- 
 ting dim. My tongue thickens. I am going, 
 but the Virgin del Pilar will protect me. And 
 here your honor has my oars." 
 
 310 
 
Saragossa 
 
 With them Montoria got on slowly towards 
 the scene of the catastrophe. But we had to 
 go around by the Calle San Gil, because we 
 could not get through directly. The French 
 had ceased firing upon the convent from the 
 hospital ; but, assaulting by San Diego, they 
 quickly occupied the ruins, which we could not 
 dispute with t^^m. The church and the tower 
 of San Francisco remained standing. 
 
 " Eh, Father Luengo," said Montoria, call- 
 ing to the friar of that name, " what is it ? 
 Where is the Captain-General ? Has he per- 
 ished in the ruins ? " 
 
 " No," replied the friar, stopping. " He is 
 with officers in the Plazuela de San Felipe. I 
 can announce the safety of your son Augustine 
 to you, because he was one of those who were 
 occupying the tower." 
 
 " Blessed be God !" said Don Jose, crossing 
 himself 
 
 " All the part at the south and the west 
 has been destroyed," proceeded Luengo. " I 
 do not know how they have been able to mine 
 in that place. They must have placed the 
 mines under the chapter house, We had not 
 mined there, beheving that it was a safe place." 
 
 An armed peasant who had come up said : 
 
 " Yes, and we had the next house, and the 
 
 3^1 
 
Saragossa 
 
 French, having possession of parts only of 
 Santa Rosa and San Diego, could not readily 
 approach there/' 
 
 " As far as that is concerned," said an armed 
 priest who had joined us, " it is supposed that 
 they have found a secret passage-way between 
 Santa Rosa and the house los Duendes. Being 
 in possession of the cellars of that, they could, 
 by digging a short gallery, get under the chapter 
 house, which is quite near." 
 
 " It is now known," said a captain of the 
 army. " The house los Duendes has a large 
 cellar of which we knew nothing. From this 
 cellar there was undoubtedly a communication 
 with Santa Rosa. The house formerly belonged 
 to the convent, and served it as a storehouse." 
 
 " Well, if this communication exists," said 
 Luengo, " I understand perfectly who has dis- 
 covered it to the French. You know that 
 when the enemy was repulsed in the orchard 
 of San Diego some prisoners were taken. 
 Among them was Candiola, who during these 
 past days has often visited the French camp, 
 and last night went over to the enemy." 
 
 " It must be so," said Montoria ; " because 
 the house los Duendes belongs to Candiola. 
 The damned Jew knew very well the passage- 
 ways and hiding places of that building. Senors, 
 
 312 
 
Saragossa 
 
 let us go to see the Captain-General. Is it be- 
 lieved that the Coso can still be defended ? " 
 
 " Does it not have to be defended ? " said a 
 soldier. " After all, it is only a trifle which has 
 happened, a few more dead. We will try to 
 regain the church of San Francisco." 
 
 We all looked at that man who spoke so 
 serenely of the impossible. The sublime terse- 
 ness of his expression of perseverance seemed 
 like a jest, and in that epoch of the incredible, 
 similar jests were wont to end in reality. 
 
 Let those who hesitate to give credence to 
 my words open the history, and they will see 
 that some few dozens of men, wasted, fam- 
 ished, barefooted, and half-naked, some of them 
 wounded, held out all that day in the tower. 
 Not content with holding it, they went out 
 over the roof of the church, opening here and 
 there many places in the roof, and paying no 
 attention to the fire directed upon them from 
 the hospital, they began to throw hand-grenades 
 upon the French, obliging them to abandon the 
 church when night came. All of the night 
 was passed in attempts by the enemy to regain 
 it ; but they could not accomplish it until the 
 following day, v/hen the riflemen on the roof 
 retired, passing to the house of Sastago. 
 
 3^3 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 WILL Saragossa surrender? Death to 
 him who says it ! 
 
 Saragossa will not surrender. She will be 
 reduced to powder. Of her historic houses, 
 let not one brick remain upon another ! Let 
 her hundred temples fall, the ground beneath 
 her open, pouring out flames ; let her founda- 
 tions be hurled into the air ; let her roofs fall 
 into the pits that are opened, — but among the 
 fragments and the dead there will always be 
 one tongue left alive to say that Saragossa will 
 never surrender ! 
 
 The moment of supreme despair came. 
 France was not fighting now, but mining. It 
 was necessary to destroy the soil^ of the nation 
 in order to conquer it. Half the Coso was 
 hers, but Spain retreated only to the opposite 
 pavement. By Las Tenerias and in the suburb 
 on the left they had obtained some advantages ; 
 and their little mines did not rest for an instant. 
 
 At last — it seems like a "lie — we became 
 accustomed to the explosions, as before we had 
 
 314 
 
Saragossa 
 
 become accustomed to the bombardment. At 
 worst we heard a noise like that of a thousand 
 thunder-claps all at once. What has happened? 
 Nothing, the University, the Chapel de la 
 Sangre, the Casa de Aranda, such a convent or 
 chapel exists no longer. It was not like living 
 on our peaceful and quiet planet. It was like 
 having the birthplace of thunderbolts for a 
 dwelling-place, like being in a disordered world, 
 where everything was heaving up and unhing- 
 ing. There was no place to live, because the 
 ground was no longer ground. Under every 
 shrub or plant a crater was opening. And yet 
 those men went on defending themselves against 
 the crushing horrors of a never-stilled volcano 
 and a ceaseless tempest. Lacking fortresses, 
 they had used the convents ; lacking convents, 
 the palaces ; when the palaces failed, the humble 
 houses. There were still some partition walls. 
 They did not eat now. Of what use, when 
 death was expected from one moment to the 
 next ? Thousands of men perished in the ex- 
 plosions, and the epidemic had risen to its 
 height of horror. One might go by chance 
 unharmed through the shower of balls, then 
 on turning a street corner, dreadful chills and 
 fever would suddenly take possession of his 
 frame, and in a little while he would be dead. 
 
 3^5 
 
Saragossa 
 
 There were no longer kinsfolk or friends ; men 
 did not even know one another, their faces 
 blackened by smoke, by earth, by blood, dis- 
 figured, cadaverous. Meeting one another after 
 a combat they would ask, "Who are you ? " 
 
 The belfries no longer sounded the alarm, 
 because there were no bell-ringers. One 
 heard no more the proclamations by criers, be- 
 cause proclamations were no longer published. 
 Mass was not said, because there were no 
 more priests. Nobody sang the jota now. The 
 voices of the dying people were husky in their 
 throats. From hour to hour a funereal silence 
 was conquering the city. Only the cannon 
 spoke. The advance guards of the two nations 
 no longer took the trouble to exchange insults. 
 Instead of madness, everybody was full of sad- 
 ness; and the dying city fought on in silence, so 
 that no atom of strength need be lost in idle 
 words. 
 
 The necessity of surrender was now the gen- 
 eral idea ; but none showed it, guarding it in 
 the depths of conscience as he would conceal a 
 crime which he was about to commit. Surren- 
 der ! It seemed an impossibility, a word too 
 difficult. To perish would be easier ! 
 
 One day passed after the explosion of San 
 Francisco ; it was a horrible day which seemed 
 
 316 
 
Saragossa 
 
 to have no existence in time, but only in the 
 fanciful realm of the imagination. I had been 
 in the Calle de las Arcadas a little before the 
 greater number of its houses fell. I ran after- 
 wards to the CosOj to fulfil a commission with 
 which I had been charged, and I remember that 
 the heavy infected air choked me so that I could 
 scarcely walk. On the way I saw the same 
 child that I had seen several days before, alone 
 and crying in the quarter of Las Tenerias. He 
 was still alone and crying, and the poor child 
 had his hands in his mouth as if he were eating 
 his fingers. In spite of that, nobody noticed 
 him. I also passed him by indifferently ; but, 
 afterwards a little voice reproached me, and I 
 turned back, and took him with me, giving him 
 some bits of bread. My commission accom- 
 plished, I ran to the Plazuela de San Felipe, 
 where, since the affair of Las Arcadas, were the 
 few men of my battalion who were still alive. It 
 was now night ; and although there had been 
 firing in the Coso between one sidewalk and 
 the other, my comrades were held in reserve 
 for the following day, because they were drop- 
 ping with fatigue. On arriving, I saw a man 
 who wrapped in his military cloak was walk- 
 ing up and down, taking notice of nobody. It 
 was Augustine Montoria. 
 
 317 \ 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " Augustine, is it thou ? " I asked, going up 
 to him. " How pale and changed thou art? 
 Have they wounded thee ? " 
 
 " Let me alone," he answered bitterly, " I 
 am in no mood for comrades." 
 
 "Are you mad? What has happened to 
 you r 
 
 " Leave me," he answered, pushing me away, 
 " I tell you that I want to be alone. I do not 
 want to see anybody." 
 
 " Friend ! " I cried, understanding that some 
 terrible trouble was on the soul of my com- 
 panion, " if misfortune is upon you, tell it to 
 me, and let me share your sorrow." 
 
 " Do you not know it, then ? " 
 
 " I know nothing. You know that I was 
 sent with twenty men to the Calle de las 
 Arcades. Since yesterday, since the explosion 
 of San Francisco, you and I have not seen 
 each other." 
 
 " It is true," he replied. " I have sought 
 death in this barricade of the Coso, and death 
 has passed me by. Numberless comrades fell 
 beside me, and there was not one ball for 
 me. Gabriel, my dear friend, put the barrel 
 of one of your pistols to my temple and tear 
 out my life. Would you believe it ? A little 
 while ago I tried to kill myself I do not 
 
 318 
 
Saragossa 
 
 know — but it seemed as if an invisible hand 
 came and took the weapon from my temple, 
 then another hand, soft and warm, passed over 
 my brow." 
 
 " Calm yourself, Augustine, and tell me 
 what is the matter." 
 
 " What the matter is with me ? What time 
 IS It r 
 
 " Nine o'clock." 
 
 " It lacks an hour," he cried, trembling 
 nervously. " Sixty minutes. It may be the 
 French have mined this Plazuela de San Felipe 
 where we are, and perhaps in a moment the 
 earth will leap under our feet and open a hor- 
 rible gulf in which we shall all be buried, — 
 all, the victim and the executioners." 
 
 " What victim is that ? " 
 
 " The unfortunate Candiola. He is shut 
 up in the Torre Nueva." 
 
 In the doorway of the Torre Nueva there 
 were some soldiers, and a faint light illumined 
 the entrance. 
 
 " Of course," I said, " I know that that 
 infamous old man was taken prisoner with 
 some of the French in the orchard of San 
 Diego." 
 
 " His crime is unquestioned. He showed the 
 enemy the passage, known to him alone, from 
 
 319 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Santa Rosa to his house los Duendes. Be- 
 sides, there being no lack of proof, the unhappy 
 man has to-night confessed all, in the hope of 
 saving his life." 
 
 " They have condemned him ? '* 
 
 " Yes, the council of war did not discuss it 
 long. Candiola will be shot within an hour. 
 There he is, and here you are. Here am 1, 
 Gabriel, captain of the battalion of Las Penas 
 de San Pedro. These cursed epaulets! Here 
 am I with an order in my pocket which com- 
 mands me to execute the sentence at ten 
 o'clock at night here in this very place, in 
 the Plazuela de San Felipe, at the foot of 
 the tower. Do you see it ? Do you see this 
 order ? It is signed by General Saint March." 
 
 I was silent; because I could not think of 
 one word to say to my companion in that 
 terrible hour. 
 
 " Courage, my friend ! " I cried at last. 
 "You must obey the order!" 
 
 Augustine did not hear me. He acted like 
 a madman, and tore himself away from me, 
 only to return a second later, uttering words 
 of desperation, then looking at the tower 
 which, splendid and tall, lifted itself above our 
 heads crying with terror, — 
 
 " Gabriel, do you not see it ? Don't you see 
 
 320 
 
Saragossa 
 
 the tower ? Don't you see that it is straight, 
 Gabriel ? The tower has been made straight ! " 
 
 I looked at the tower, and, naturally, the 
 tower was still leaning. 
 
 " Gabriel," said Augustine, " kill me ! I 
 do not want to live. No, I will not take life 
 from that man. 1 ou must take the order. 
 I, if I live, must run away. I am sick. I 
 will tear off these epaulets, and throw them in 
 the face of General Saint March. No, do not 
 tell me that the Torre Nueva is still leaning. 
 Why, man, do you not see that it is straight ? 
 My friend, you deceive me. My heart is 
 pierced as by red-hot steel, and my blood burns 
 within me. I am dying of the pain." 
 
 I was trying to console him, when a white 
 figure entered the plaza by the Calle de Tor- 
 resecas. On seeing her I trembled, for it was 
 Mariquilla. Augustine did not have time to 
 flee, and the distressed girl embraced him, ex- 
 claiming eagerly in her emotion, — 
 
 " Augustine ! Augustine ! thank God, I have 
 found you here ! How much I love you ! 
 When they told me that you were the jailer 
 of my father, I was wild with delight, for I 
 know that you will save him. Those savages 
 of the council have condemned him to death. 
 He to die who has done harm to no one ! 
 
 21 321 
 
Saragossa 
 
 But God does not wish the innocent to perish, 
 and He has put him in your hands, so that you 
 may let him escape ! " 
 
 " Oh, my heart's Mariquilla," said Augus- 
 tine, " leave me, I pray you ! I don't wish to 
 see you. To-morrow — to-morrow we will 
 talk. I love you, too. I am mad for you. 
 Let Saragossa perish, but don't leave off loving 
 me ! They expected me to kill your father." 
 
 " Oh, God, do not say that ! " cried the girl. 
 " Thou ! " 
 
 " No, a thousand times no ! Let others 
 punish his treachery." 
 
 " No, it is a lie ! My father is not a traitor. 
 Do you also accuse him ? I never have be- 
 lieved it. Augustine, it is night. Untie 
 his hands ; take off the fetters that hurt his 
 feet. Set him at liberty. No one can see. 
 We will flee. We will hide ourselves in the 
 ruins of our house, there by the cypress where 
 so many times we have seen the spire of the 
 Torre Nueva." 
 
 " Mariquilla, wait a little," said Montoria, 
 with great agitation. " This cannot be done 
 so. There are many people in the plaza. 
 The soldiers are greatly incensed against the 
 prisoner. To-morrow — " 
 
 " To-morrow ! What do you say ? You 
 
 322 
 
Saragossa 
 
 are laughing at me. Set him at liberty this 
 instant. Augustine, if you do not do it, I 
 shall believe that I have loved the most vile, 
 the most cowardly, the most despicable of 
 men." 
 
 " Mariquilla, God hears us. God knows 
 that I adore you. By Him I swear that I 
 will not stain my hands with the blood of this 
 unhappy man. I will sooner break my sword. 
 But — in the name of God, I tell you also that 
 I cannot set your father at liberty. Mari- 
 quilla, Heaven is against us." 
 
 " Augustine, you are deceiving me," said the 
 girl, anguished and bewildered. " Do you tell 
 me that you will not set him at liberty ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I cannot. If God should come 
 in human form to ask of me the freedom of 
 him who sold our heroic peasants, delivered 
 them up to the French sword, I would not do 
 it. It is a supreme duty, in which one cannot 
 fail. The innumerable victims immolated by 
 his treachery, the city surrendered, the national 
 honor outraged, are things which weigh too 
 strongly upon my conscience." 
 
 " My father cannot have done this deed of 
 treachery," she said, passing at once from grief 
 to an exalted and nervous anger ; " these are cal- 
 umnies of his enemies. They lie who call him 
 
 323 
 
Saragossa 
 
 traitor, and you, more cruel and more inhuman 
 than all, you lie also ! It is not possible that I 
 have loved you ! It causes me shame to think 
 of it. You say you will not free him ? Then 
 of what good are you ? Do you hope to gain 
 favor by your bloody cruelty of those in- 
 human barbarians who have destroyed the city, 
 imagining that they were defending it ? To 
 you the life of the innocent is of no conse- 
 quence, nor the desolation of an orphan. 
 Miserable, ambitious egoist, I abhor you more 
 than I have ever loved you ! You thought 
 that you would be able to present yourself 
 before me with your hands stained with the 
 blood of my father ? No, he is not a traitor. 
 You are traitors, all of you. My God, is there 
 no generous hand to help me ? Among so 
 many men, is there not even one to prevent 
 this crime ? A poor woman runs through all 
 the city looking for a friendly soul, and does 
 not find anything but wild beasts.'* 
 
 " Mariquilla," said Augustine, " you are 
 lacerating my soul. You ask the impossible 
 of me, that which I will not do, and cannot 
 do, although you offer me eternal blessedness 
 for payment. I have sacrificed all, and I knew 
 that you would abhor me. Think what it is 
 for a man to tear out his own heart and trample 
 
 324 
 
Saragossa 
 
 It in the mud. I have done that. I can do 
 no more/' 
 
 The fervent exaltation of Mariquilla Can- 
 diola carried her from intense anger to pathetic 
 sensitiveness of suffering. She had showed 
 her anger with fiery heat, now she burst into 
 bitter tears, expressing herself thus, — 
 
 " What mad things I have said ! And what 
 madness hast thou said, Augustine ! How I 
 have loved you, and how I do love you ! — 
 from the time I saw you first at our house. 
 You have never been absent from my thoughts 
 for a moment. You have been to me the 
 most loving, the most generous, the most 
 thoughtful, the bravest of all men. I loved 
 you without knowing who you were. I did not 
 know your name, or that of your parents ; but 
 I would have loved you if you had been the 
 son of the hangman of Saragossa. Augustine, 
 you have forgotten me since we have not been 
 together. It is I, Mariquilla. I have all this 
 time believed, and I believe now that you will 
 not take away from me my good father whom 
 I love as much as I love you. He is good. 
 He has not hurt anybody. He is a poor old 
 man. He has some faults ; but I do not see 
 them. I do not see anything in him but 
 virtues. I never knew my mother, who died 
 
 325 
 
\ 
 
 Saragossa 
 
 when I was very small. I have lived retired 
 from the world. My father has brought me 
 up in solitude. In solitude the great love that 
 I bear you has been nourished. If I had 
 never known you, the whole world would have 
 been nothing to me without him ! '* 
 
 I could read clearly Montoria's indecision in 
 his face. He was looking with terrified eyes, 
 now at the girl, now at the sentinels at the 
 entrance of the tower. The daughter of 
 Candiola, with admirable instinct, knew how to 
 make use of that evidence of weakness. Throw- 
 ing her arms around his neck, she cried, — 
 
 " Augustine, set him at liberty ! We will 
 hide where no one can find us. If they say 
 anything to you, if they accuse you of having 
 failed in duty, do not take any notice of them. 
 Come with me. How my father will love you, 
 seeing you have saved his life ! Then what 
 happiness is before us, Augustine. How good 
 you are ! I was expecting it, and when I knew 
 that the poor prisoner was in your hands, I felt 
 the gates of heaven were open ! " 
 
 My friend took a few steps, then drew back. 
 There were plenty of soldiers and armed men 
 in the plazuela. Suddenly there appeared 
 before us a man on crutches, accompanied by 
 several officials of high rank. 
 
 326 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " What is going on here ? " asked Don Jose 
 de Montoria. " It seemed to me I heard the 
 cries of a woman. Augustine, are you weeping ? 
 What is the matter ? " 
 
 " Seiior," said Mariquilla, in alarm, turning 
 to Montoria. "You will not at all oppose 
 their setting my father at liberty ? Do you 
 not remember me ? You were wounded yes- 
 terday, and I cared for you." 
 
 " It is true, child," said Don Jose gravely ; 
 " I am very grateful. Now I see that you are 
 the daughter of Senor Candiola." 
 
 " Yes, sir. Yesterday, when I was attending 
 you, I recognized in you the man who ill-treated 
 my father some time ago." 
 
 "Yes, my daughter, it was a sudden thing — 
 a hasty — I can't help it. I have very quick 
 blood. And you took care of me ? That is the 
 way good Christians do, returning good for evil, 
 paying back injuries with benefits, and to do good 
 to them that hate us is what God commands." 
 
 " Seiior," exclaimed Mariquilla, dissolved in 
 tears. " I forgive my enemies. Do you also 
 forgive yours ? Why do they not free my 
 father ? He has not done anything." 
 
 " This thing that you ask is a little difficult, k 
 The treachery of Senor Candiola is unpardon- | 
 able. The troops are furious." j 
 
 327 
 
Saragossa 
 
 " It is all a mistake. If you would inter- 
 cede ! You must be one of the command- 
 ers. 
 
 " I ! " said Montoria, " that is a business 
 which does not rest on me. But calm your- 
 self, young woman. You seem to be a good 
 girl ; truly, I remember the attention with which 
 you took care of me, and such goodness touches 
 my soul. I did you a great wrong, and from the 
 the same person whom I injured I received a 
 great good, perhaps life itself In such ways 
 God teaches us to be humble and charitable, 
 porr — I was just going to let it go, this cursed 
 tongue of mine ! '* 
 
 " Senor, how good you are ! '' cried the girl ; 
 " and I thought you were very bad. You will 
 help me to save my father. He does not lay 
 up the outrage he received.** 
 
 " Listen," said Montoria, taking her by the 
 arm. " Not long ago I asked pardon of Senor 
 Don Jeronimo for all that ; and far from being 
 reconciled with me, he insulted me in the most 
 gross manner. He and I do not pull together, 
 child. If you tell me that you forgive me that 
 matter of the blows, my conscience will be free 
 of a great weight." 
 
 " Indeed, there is nothing for me to forgive 
 you. Oh, senor, how good you are ! You 
 
 328 
 
Sarag 
 
 ossa 
 
 command here surely. Then cause my father 
 to be set free ! " 
 
 " That is none of my business. Senor Can- 
 diola has committed a terrible crime. It is 
 impossible to pardon him, impossible ! I 
 understand your affliction, and truly I feel it, 
 especially in remembering your kindness. I 
 will protect you. We shall see." 
 
 " I do not wish for anything for myself," said 
 Mariquilla, whose voice was now hoarse with 
 her emotion. " I only wish that an unfortu- 
 nate man who has done nothing should be set 
 at liberty. Augustine, are you not in com- 
 mand here ? What are you doing ? " 
 
 " This young man will do his duty," said 
 Montoria. 
 
 " This young man," cried Mariquilla, angrily, 
 "will do what I bid him, because he loves me. 
 Is n*t it true that you will free my father ^ 
 You said you would. Senors, what are you here 
 for ? Do you intend to stop him ? Augustine, 
 do not pay any attention to them ; defend us ! " 
 
 " What is all this ? " exclaimed Montoria, in 
 amazement. " Augustine, have you told this 
 girl that you have any idea of failing in your 
 duty ? Do you know her ? " 
 
 Augustine, overcome by his fear, answered 
 nothing. 
 
 329 
 
Saragossa 
 
 "Yes, he will set him at liberty," said 
 Mariquilla, in despair. " Go away from here, 
 seiiors. You have no business here/* 
 
 " What am I to understand ? " cried Don 
 Jose, seizing his son by his arm. " If what 
 this girl says should be true, if I could 
 imagine that my son's honor could fail in 
 this fashion, his loyalty sworn to his flag 
 be trampled underfoot, — if I supposed that 
 my son could make light of the orders with 
 whose fulfilment he has been charged, I my- 
 self would tie him and drag him before the 
 council of war that he might get his just 
 reward." 
 
 "Seiior, oh, my father," said Augustine, pale 
 as death, " I have never thought of failing in 
 my duty." 
 
 " Is that your father ? " said Mariquilla. 
 " Augustine, tell him that you love me, and 
 perhaps he will have compassion on me." 
 
 "This girl is mad," said Don Jose. "Un- 
 happy child, your trouble touches my heart. 
 I charge myself with protecting you in your 
 orphanhood. Yes, I will protect you as long as 
 you reform your habits. Poor little one, you 
 have a good heart, an excellent heart. But, — 
 yes — I have heard, a little inclined to be 
 giddy. It is a pity that by being badly 
 
 33^ 
 
Saragossa 
 
 brought up a good soul should be lost. But 
 you will be good ? I think you will ! " 
 
 "Augustine, how can you permit me to be 
 Insulted ? " said Mariquilla, with overwhelming 
 grief. 
 
 " It is not insult," said the father, " it is 
 good counsel. How could I insult my bene- 
 factress ? I believe that if you behave yourself 
 well, we shall have a great affection for you. 
 Remain under my protection, poor orphan. 
 Why do you talk so to my son ? It is nothing, 
 nothing ; have better sense ; and enough for 
 now of all this agitation. The lad perhaps 
 knows you. Yes, I have been told that during 
 the siege you have not left the company of the 
 soldiers. Now you must reform. I charge 
 myself — I cannot forget the kindness I have 
 received. And besides I know that you are 
 good at heart. That is not a deceitful face. 
 You have a heavenly form. But it is neces- 
 sary to renounce worldly enjoyments, refrain 
 from vice — then — " 
 
 " No ! " cried Augustine, suddenly, with so 
 lively an outburst of anger that all of us 
 trembled at seeing him and hearing him. " No ! 
 I will not consent that any one, not even my 
 father, should insult her before me. I love 
 her ! And if I have concealed it before, I tell 
 
 33^ 
 
Saragossa 
 
 it now, without fear or shame, for all the world 
 to know ! Sir, you do not know what you are 
 saying, nor how you miss the truth ! You 
 have been deceived. You may kill me, if I 
 fail in respect, but do not defame her before 
 me; because if I should hear again what I have 
 heard, not even the fact that you are my own 
 father could restrain me ! " 
 
 Montoria, not expecting this, looked about 
 in amazement at his friends. 
 
 " Good, Augustine ! " ciied Mariquilla. 
 " Do not pay any attention to these people. 
 This man is not your father. Do what your 
 heart tells you to do. Go away, senors ! Go 
 away ! " 
 
 "You are mistaken, Mariquilla," replied the 
 young man ; " I have not intended to free the 
 prisoner, nor shall I do so ; but at the same 
 time I tell you that it will not be I who will 
 take his life. There are officers in my battalion 
 who will carry out the order. I am no longer 
 a soldier. Although we are in the face of 
 the enemy, I break my sword, and hasten to 
 the Captain-General that he may decide my 
 fate." 
 
 As he said this, he drew his sword, and, 
 doubling the blade across his knee, he broke 
 it, and after throwing the two pieces into the 
 
 332 
 
Saragossa 
 
 middle of our circle, he went without another 
 word. 
 
 " I am all alone ! There is no one to help 
 me ! " cried Mariquilla, faintly. 
 
 " Gentlemen, pay no attention to the affairs 
 of my son. I will take that upon myself. 
 Perhaps the girl has interested him. That is 
 of little consequence. These inexperienced 
 ecclesiastics are very likely to be taken in. 
 And youj Sefiora Doiia Mariquilla, try to calm 
 yourself. We will look after you. I promise 
 you that, if you behave yourself, you will later 
 enter into repentance. Come, let us take her 
 away from here ! " 
 
 " No, no ! nobody shall tear me away from 
 here, except in bits," said the girl, with the 
 calmness of despair. '' Oh, Seiior Don Jose de 
 Montoria, will you not ask them to pardon 
 my father? If he would not forgive you, I 
 forgive you a thousand times. But — " 
 
 " I cannot do what you ask of me," said the 
 patriot, sadly. " The crime committed is 
 enormous. You must go away. What terri- 
 ble grief! It is necessary to resign yourself. 
 God will pardon you all your faults, poor 
 orphan. Rely upon me, and all that I can do 
 — we will take care of you. We will help you. 
 I am moved not by gratitude alone but by 
 
 333 
 
Saragossa 
 
 pity. Come, come with me. It lacks only 
 a quarter to ten.'* 
 
 " Senor Montoria/' said Mariquilla, kneeling 
 before the patriot, and kissing his hands, 
 " you have influence in the city, and can save 
 my father. You are angry with me because 
 Augustine said he loved me. No, I will not 
 love him. I will not see him any more. I 
 am an honest girl ; but he is above me, and I 
 cannot think of marrying him. Senor de 
 Montoria, by the soul of your dead son, help 
 me ! My father is innocent. No, it is not 
 possible that he could have been a traitor. If 
 the Holy Spirit should tell me, I would not be- 
 lieve it. They say that he was no patriot. I 
 say it is a lie. They say that he did not give 
 anything for the war ; but now everything that 
 we have shall be given. There is a great deal 
 of money buried in the cellar of the house. I 
 will tell you where it is, and they can take it 
 all. They say that he has not taken up arms. 
 I will take arms now. I am not afraid of the 
 balls. The noise of the cannon does not ter- 
 rify me. I am not afraid of anything. I will 
 run to the places of greatest danger, and there, 
 where the men can do nothing, I will go into 
 the fire. I will dig in the mines with my own 
 hands, and make holes for the powder under 
 
 334 
 
Saragossa 
 
 all the ground occupied by the French. Tell 
 me if there is some castle to take, or some wall 
 to defend ; because I fear nothing, and of all 
 living beings in Saragossa, I shall be the last 
 to surrender." 
 
 " Unhappy girl!" said the patriot, lifting her 
 from the ground, " let us go, let us go from 
 here ! " 
 
 " Seiior de Araceli," said the head of our 
 forces, who was present, " as Captain Augus- 
 tine Montoria is not in his place, you are in- 
 trusted with the command of this company." 
 
 " No, assassins of my father ! " exclaimed 
 Mariquilla, furious as a lion ; " you shall not 
 kill the innocent ! Cowards ! Executioners ! 
 You are the traitors, not he ! You cannot 
 conquer your enemies, so you enjoy taking life 
 from an unfortunate old man. Soldiers, how 
 can you talk of your honor, when you do not 
 know what honor is? Augustine, where art 
 thou ! Seiior Don Jose de Montoria, this is a 
 contemptible vengeance planned by you, a 
 spiteful and heartless man ! My father has 
 done wrong to no one, and you tried to rob 
 him. He was right in not wishing to give you 
 his flour, for you who call yourselves patriots 
 are tradesmen who speculate in the misfortunes 
 of the city. I cannot extort from these cruel 
 
 335 
 
Saragossa 
 
 men one compassionate word. Men of brass, 
 barbarians ! My father is innocent, and if he 
 were not, he would have done well in selling 
 such a city. They would easily give more 
 than you are worth. But is there not one, one 
 single one, to pity him and me ? " 
 
 "Come, let us take her away, let us carry 
 her off, seiiors," said Montoria. " This cannot 
 be prolonged. What has my son done with 
 himself? " 
 
 They took her away, and for a time I could 
 hear her heart-rending cries. 
 
 " Good-night, Senor de Araceli," said Mon- 
 toria to me. " I am going to see if I can get 
 a little wine and water for this poor orphan." 
 
 33^ 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 HORRIBLE nightmare, leave me ! I do 
 not wish to sleep. But the bad dream 
 which I long to fling from my remembrance 
 returns to distress me. I wish I could blot 
 from my memory the melancholy scene. But 
 one night passes, and then another, and the 
 scene is not blotted out. I, who on so 
 many occasions have faced great dangers 
 without winking an eyelash, I tremble now, 
 and the cold sweat comes on my forehead. 
 The sword bathed in French blood falls from 
 my hand, and I shut my eyes in order not to 
 see what passes before me. In vain I hurl 
 thee away, dreadful vision ! I expel thee, and 
 thou dost return. Thou art fast rooted in my 
 memory. No, I am not capable of taking the 
 life of a fellow-being in cold blood, though in- 
 exorable duty commands it. Why did I not 
 tremble in the trenches as I tremble now ? I 
 feel a mortal chill. By the light of lanterns 
 I see sinister faces, one above all livid and 
 sullen, that shows a terror greater than all other 
 " 337 
 
Saragossa 
 
 terrors. How the barrels of the guns gleam ! 
 All is ready, and but one word is lacking, my 
 word. I try to pronounce the word, and I bite 
 my tongue. No, that word will never come 
 from my lips ! 
 
 Away from me, black nightmare ! I shut 
 my eyes. I draw my eyelids closer, better to 
 exclude thee, and the closer they are shut the 
 plainer I see thee, horrible picture ! They all 
 wait with anxiety ; but nothing is comparable 
 to the state of my soul, rebelling against the 
 law which obliges it to decide the end of an- 
 other's existence. Time passes, then eyes 
 which I wish I had never seen disappear under 
 the bandage. I cannot look at the scene ; 
 would that they had put a bandage over my 
 eyes also ! The soldiers look at me, and I 
 frown to hide my cowardice. We mortals are 
 stupid and vain even in supreme moments. 
 The by-standers jested at my state, and that 
 gave me a certain energy. I unglued my 
 tongue from my palate, and cried, — 
 
 " Fire ! " 
 
 The accursed nightmare will not go, and tor- 
 ments me to-night as it did last night, bringing 
 again before me that which I do not wish to 
 see. It is better not to sleep. I prefer wake- 
 fulness to this. I shake off the lethargy, and 
 
 338 
 
Saragossa 
 
 dread my vigil as before I abhorred the dream. 
 Always the same humming of the cannon. 
 Those insolent brass mouths do not cease to 
 talk. 
 
 Ten days pass, and Saragossa has not yet 
 surrendered, because some madmen are still 
 persistent in guarding for Spain that heap of 
 dust and ashes. The houses go on falling ; 
 and France, after establishing one foot, wastes 
 armies and quintals of powder in gaining 
 ground on which to set the other. Spain will 
 not give up as long as she has one paving-stone 
 to serve as a lever for the immense machine of 
 her bravery. I am almost lifeless. I cannot 
 mov^e. Those men I see passing before me 
 do not seem to be men. They are languid 
 and emaciated, and their faces would be yellow, 
 if dust and powder had not blackened them. 
 Eyes gleam under blackened eyebrows, — eyes 
 that do not yet know how to look without 
 taking aim. Men are covered with unclean 
 rags, and cloths are bound about their heads. 
 They are so filthy that they seem like the 
 dead raised from that heap in the Calle de la 
 Imprenta, to show themselves among the liv- 
 ing. From time to time among the smoky 
 columns these dying ones come, and the 
 friars murmur religious consolation to them. 
 
 339 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Neither the dying understand, nor the friar 
 knows what he says. Religion itself goes half 
 mad. Generals, soldiers, peasants, priests, and 
 women are all overwhelmed. There are no 
 classes or sexes. The city is defended in 
 anarchy. 
 
 I do not know what happened me. Do 
 not ask me to go on v/ith the story, for there 
 is nothing more to tell. That which I see 
 before my memory does not seem real, the 
 true things being confused in my memory 
 with those dreamed. 
 
 I was stretched out in a gateway of the 
 Calle de la Albarderia, shaking with cold, my 
 left hand wrapped in a bloody, dirty cloth. 
 The fever burned me, and I longed for strength 
 to hasten to the front. They were not all 
 corpses beside me. I reached out my hand 
 and touched the arm of a friend who was still 
 living. 
 
 " What is going on, Senor Sursum Corda ? " 
 
 '' It seems that the French are on this 
 side of the Coso," he answered me, in a 
 feeble voice. " They have blown up half 
 of the city. May be we shall have to sur- 
 render. The Captain-General has fallen ill 
 with the epidemic, and is in the Calle de Predi- 
 cadores. They think he is going to die. The 
 
 340 
 
Sarago 
 
 ssa 
 
 French will enter. I rejoice that I shall die 
 before I see that. How do you find yourself, 
 Senor de Araceli ? " 
 
 " Very bad off. I will see if I can get up." 
 
 " I am alive yet, it seems. I did not think 
 I should be. The Lord be with me, I shall 
 go straight to heaven. Seiior de Araceli, have 
 you died yet ? " 
 
 I got up and took a few steps. Leaning 
 against the walls, I advanced a little and came 
 to the Orphanage. Some military officers of 
 high rank were accompanying a short, slender 
 ecclesiastic to the door, who dismissed them, 
 saying, "We have done our duty, and human 
 strength can compass nothing more." It was 
 Father Basilio. A friendly arm held me up, 
 and I recognized Don Roque. 
 
 " Gabriel, my friend," he said to me, in 
 deep affliction, " the city surrenders this very 
 day." 
 
 " What city ? " 
 
 " This." 
 
 As he said so, it seemed to me as if nothing 
 remained ^in its place. Men and houses all 
 ran together confusedly. The Torre Nueva 
 seemed to draw itself up to flee also, and in 
 the distance its leaden casque fell from it. 
 The flames of the city no longer gleamed. 
 
 341 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Columns of black smoke moved from east 
 to west. Powder and ashes, raised by the 
 whirling winds, moved in the same direction. 
 The sky was no longer the sky, but a leaden 
 canopy, strangely agitated. 
 
 " Everything is fleeing ; everything is going 
 from this place of desolation," I said to Don 
 Roque. " The French will find nothing." 
 
 " Nothing. To-day they enter by the 
 Puerta del Angel. They say that the capit- 
 ulation has been honorable. Look, here 
 come the spectres who defend the plaza ! " 
 
 Indeed along the Coso filed the last com- 
 batants, one for every thousand of those who 
 had faced the bullets and the epidemic. There 
 were fathers without sons, brothers without 
 brothers, husbands without wives. He who 
 cannot find his own among the living is not 
 at all sure of finding them among the dead, 
 because there are fifty-two thousand corpses, 
 almost all piled in the streets, the doorways, 
 the cellars, the ditches. The French, on 
 entering, halted affrighted at such a spectacle, 
 and were almost on the point of retreating. 
 Tears streamed from their eyes, and they asked 
 whether these were men or shadows, these 
 poor creatures who fled at sight of them. 
 
 A volunteer on entering his house stumbled 
 
 342 
 
Saragossa 
 
 over the bodies of his wife and children. A 
 wife ran to the wall, to the trench, to the barri- 
 cade to look for her husband ; but no one knew 
 where he was. The thousands of the dead 
 did not speakj and could not tell whether her 
 Fulano was among them. Many large fam- 
 ilies were exterminated, not one member was 
 left. This saves many tears when death strikes 
 with one blow the father and the orphan, the 
 husband and the widow, the victim and the 
 eyes that would have been forced to weep. 
 
 France had at last set foot within that city 
 built on the banks of the classic river which 
 gives its name to our peninsula. 
 
 They had conquered it without subduing it. 
 On seeing the desolation of Saragossa, the 
 Imperial army considered itself the grave- 
 diggers of the heroic inhabitants, instead of 
 their conquerors. Fifty-three thousand lives 
 were contributed by this Aragonese city to 
 those of the millions of creatures wherewith 
 humanity paid for the military glories of the 
 French Empire. This sacrifice will not prove 
 fruitless, for it was a sacrifice for an idea. 
 The French Empire, — a vain thing, a thing of 
 circumstance, founded on fickle fortune, in 
 audacity and the military genius that is always 
 a second-rate quality when separated from ser- 
 
 343 
 
Saragossa 
 
 vice of the ideal, — this empire existed merely 
 by its own self-worship. The French Empire 
 — I say, that tempest which disturbed the first 
 years of the century, and whose lightnings and 
 thunderbolts held Europe in terror — passed, 
 as tempests pass. The normal state in his- 
 toric life, as in nature, is that of calm. We all 
 saw it pass, and we viewed its death-agony in 
 1 8 15. We saw its resurrection a few years 
 afterwards, but that also passed, overthrown 
 by its own weight of pride. Perhaps this old 
 tree will sprout the third time ; but it will not 
 give grateful shade to the world during cen- 
 turies, and will scarcely serve for mankind to 
 warm itself by its last bits of wood. 
 
 That which has not passed, nor shall pass, is 
 the idea of nationality which Spain defended 
 against the right of conquest and usurpation. 
 When other peoples succumbed, she main- 
 tained her right, defended it, and, sacrificing 
 her own life-blood, hallowed it as martyrs 
 hallowed the Christian idea in the arena. 
 The result is that Spain, depreciated unjustly 
 in the Congress of Vienna, disprized with 
 reason for her civil wars, her bad governors, 
 her disorders, her bankruptcy more or less de- 
 clared, her immoral treaties, her extravagances, 
 her bull-fights, and her proclamations, has 
 
 344 
 
Sarao-ossa 
 
 o 
 
 never since 1808 seen the continuation of her 
 nationality placed in any doubt. Even to-day, 
 when it seems that we have reached the last 
 degree of abasement, offering more chance 
 than Poland for dismemberment, no one dares 
 attempt the conquest of this house of madmen. 
 Men of little sense, — without any on occasion, 
 — the Spanish will to-day, as ever, die a 
 thousand deaths, stumbling and rising in the 
 struggle of their inborn vices with the great 
 qualities which they still preserve, with those 
 which they acquire slowly, and those which Cen- 
 tral Europe sends them. Providence holds in 
 store for this people great advancings and abase- 
 ments, great terrors and surprises, apparent 
 deaths and mighty resurrections. Her destiny 
 is to be able to live in agitation like a salaman- 
 der in fire ; but her national permanancy is 
 and ever will be assured. 
 
 345 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 IT was the twenty-first day of February. 
 A man whom I did not know came up to 
 me, and said, — 
 
 " Come, Gabriel, I have need of thee." 
 
 "Who are you?" I asked him. "I do 
 not recognize you." 
 
 " I am Augustine Montoria," he answered. 
 " Am I so much disfigured ? They told me 
 yesterday that you were dead. How I envied 
 you ! I see that you are as unfortunate as I, 
 and that you are living still. Do you know, 
 my friend, what I have just seen ? The body 
 of Mariquilla. It is in the Calle de Anton 
 Trillo, at the entrance of the garden. Come, 
 and we will bury her." 
 
 " I am more in a condition to be buried 
 myself than to bury anybody. Who does that 
 now? Of what did this woman die ? " 
 
 " Of nothing, Gabriel, of nothing." 
 
 " That is a singular death. I do not under- 
 stand it." 
 
 " Mariqu ilia's body shows no wounds, nor 
 
 346 
 
Sarao-ossa 
 
 o 
 
 any of the signs which the epidemic leaves in 
 the face. She hes as if she had fallen asleep. 
 Her face rests upon the ground, and she holds 
 her hands to her ears as if she were shutting 
 out sounds." 
 
 " She does well. The noise of the shooting 
 disturbed her. It seems to me as if I could 
 hear it yet." 
 
 " Come with me and help me. I have here 
 a spade." 
 
 I arrived with difficulty at the place where 
 my friend and two other comrades conducted 
 me. My eyes did not let me see anything 
 very well, and I only saw a shadowy figure 
 stretched out there. Augustine and the other 
 two raised the body, phantom or reality, which 
 was there. I believe I made out her face, and 
 on seeing it a great darkness fell upon my 
 soul. 
 
 " She has not the slightest wound," said 
 Augustine, " not one drop of blood is upon 
 her. Her eyelids are not swollen like those 
 of the people who died of the epidemic. 
 Mariquilla has not died of anything. Can 
 you see her, Gabriel ? It seems as if this 
 figure that I hold in my arms has never been 
 alive. It seems as if she is a beautiful, waxen 
 image that I have loved in my dreams, show- 
 
 347 
 
Saragossa 
 
 ing herself to me with life, speech, and action. 
 Do you see her? I see that all the inhabi- 
 tants of this street are dead. If they were 
 alive, I would call them to tell them that I 
 loved her. Why did I hide it like a crime ? 
 Mariquilla, my wife, why didst thou die, with- 
 out wounds, without sickness ? What is the 
 matter ? What was it ? Where are you now ? 
 Are you thinking ? Do you remember me ? 
 Do you know, perhaps, that I am living ? 
 Mariquilla, Mariquilla, why do I still have 
 that which they call life, and you not ? Where 
 shall I find you, to hear you, to talk with 
 you, and to come to you so that you may see 
 me ? Everything is dark around me since you 
 have closed your eyes. How long will this 
 night of my soul endure, this solitude in which 
 you have left me ? The earth is insupport- 
 able to me. Despair possesses my soul. In 
 vain I call unto God that He fill it with Him- 
 self. God does not answer me, and since you 
 have gone, Mariquilla, the universe is empty." 
 
 As he said this, we heard a sound as of many 
 people coming near. 
 
 " It is the French. They have taken pos- 
 session of the Coso," said one. 
 
 " Friends, dig this grave quickly," said 
 Augustine, speaking to his two comrades, 
 
 348 
 
Saragossa 
 
 who were digging a great hole at the foot of 
 the cypress. " If not, the French will come, 
 and will take her from us.'* 
 
 A man advanced along the Calle de Anton 
 Trillo, and, stopping beside the ruined wall, 
 looked in. I saw him, and trembled. He 
 was greatly changed, cadaverous, with sunken 
 eyes and uncertain step. His glance was with- 
 out brilliancy ; his body was bent ; and he 
 seemed to have aged twenty years since last 
 I saw him. His clothing was of rags stained 
 with blood and mire. In another place, and 
 at another time, he would have been taken for 
 an octogenarian, come to beg alms. He came 
 nearer to us, and said in a voice so feeble that 
 we could scarcely hear, — 
 
 " Augustine, my son, what are you doing 
 here ? " 
 
 "Senor, my father, I am burying Mari- 
 quilia," replied Augustine, without emotion. 
 
 " Why are you doing that ? Why such 
 solicitude for a stranger ? The body of your 
 poor brother lies even now unburied among 
 the patriots. Why have you separated your- 
 self from your mother and your sister ?" 
 
 " My sister is surrounded by kind and 
 affectionate people to take care of her, while 
 this one has nobody but myself." 
 
 349 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Don Jose de Montoria, more gloomy and 
 thoughtful than I had ever seen him, said 
 nothing, and began to throw earth into the 
 grave where they had placed the body of the 
 beautiful girl. 
 
 " Throw in earth, my son, throw in earth 
 quickly ! " he cried, at last. " All is indeed 
 over. They have permitted the French to 
 enter the city, when it might still have been 
 defended a couple of months more. These 
 people have no soul. Come with me, and 
 we will talk about yourself.'* 
 
 '' Senor," replied Augustine, in firm tones, 
 " the French are in the city. The gates are 
 left free. It is now ten, and at twelve I leave 
 Saragossa to go to the Monastery de Veruela, 
 where I shall stay until I die." 
 
 The garrison, according to the stipulation, 
 were to leave with military honors by the Puerta 
 del Portillo. I was so ill, so weakened by a 
 wound lately received, and by hunger and 
 fatigue, my comrades almost had to carry me. 
 I scarcely saw the French as with sadness rather 
 than rejoicing they took possession of that 
 which had been a city. It was a city of ter- 
 rible ruins, a city of desolation, worthy to be 
 mourned by Jeremiah or sung by Homer. 
 
 In the Muela, where I stopped to recover 
 
 350 
 
Saragossa 
 
 myself, Don Roque appeared. He was leav- 
 ing the city, and feared being followed as 
 a suspect. 
 
 " Gabriel," he said to me, " I never believed 
 that the French mob would be so vile. I 
 hoped that in view of the heroic defence of the 
 city, they would be more human. Some days 
 ago we saw two bodies which the Ebro was 
 hurrying along on its current. They were 
 two victims of those murderous soldiers that 
 Lannes commands. They were Santiago Sas, 
 commander of those brave musketeers of the 
 parish of San Pablo, and Father Basilio 
 Boggiero, teacher, friend, and counsellor of 
 Palafox. They say that they went and called 
 up Father Basilio at midnight, pretending that 
 they wished to intrust an important commission 
 to him ; and then they took him on their treach- 
 erous bayonets to the bridge, where they pierced 
 him through, and flung him into the river. 
 And they did the same with Sas." 
 
 " And our protector and friend, Don Jose 
 de Montoria, what of him ? " 
 
 " Thanks to the efforts of the chief-justice, 
 he is still alive ; but they want to shoot me, if 
 you please. Did you ever see such savages ? 
 Palafox, it seems, is being taken a prisoner to 
 France, although they promised to respect his 
 
 351 
 
Saragossa 
 
 person. In short, my boy, this is a nation I 
 should not like to meet in heaven. And what 
 do you say to that little barrack-sergeant of a 
 marshal, Senor Lannes ? He does not lack 
 impudence to do what he has done. He has 
 taken the treasures of the Virgin del Pilar, say- 
 ing that they were not safe in the church. 
 After he saw such a quantity of precious stones, 
 diamonds, emeralds, and rubies, it seems that 
 they got into his eyes, so that he held on to 
 them. In order to hide his plundering, he 
 pretends that the junta has given them to 
 him. Of a truth, I am sorry not to be 
 young like yourself, so as to fight against such 
 a highway robber. And so Montoria said 
 also, when I took my leave of him. Poor 
 Don Jose, how sad it is! I give him but few 
 years of life. The death of his elder son, 
 and the resolution of Augustine to become a 
 priest, make him very downcast and extremely 
 melancholy." 
 
 Don Roque had stopped to keep me com- 
 pany for a little time. And now we separated. 
 
 After I recovered, I continued in the com- 
 
 paign of 1809, taking part in other battles, 
 
 becoming acquainted with new people, and 
 
 establishing new friendships, or renewing the 
 
 old. 
 
 352 
 
Saragossa 
 
 Later, I shall relate some things about that 
 year, as Andresillo Marljuan told them to 
 me, when I chanced upon him in Castile, as 
 I was returning from Talavera and he from 
 Gerona. 
 
 THE END 
 
 23 353 
 
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