Kitabı oku: «The Indian Chief: The Story of a Revolution», sayfa 13

"We, we!" the Frenchmen yelled, as they chased after him with unexampled frenzy.

The artillerymen were sabred at their guns, the muzzles of which were immediately turned on the Mexicans. At this moment the count perceived, as in a cloud, Valentine and his hunters, who were fighting like demons, and massacring the Indians pitilessly, who tried in vain to resist them.

"Good heavens!" Black Elk said with beatitude at every blow he dealt, "it was a lucky idea of mine to come."

"It really was," Belhumeur replied; and he redoubled his blows.

Valentine had turned the city, and taking advantage of a forgotten ladder, escaladed the wall, and, without striking a blow, made prisoners the post stationed there, which was commanded by an officer.

"Thanks for the ladder, comrade," he said to the latter with a grin; and opening the gate of the city, he allowed the cavalry to enter.

Still the Mexicans fought with the energy of despair. General Guerrero, who flattered himself with the hope of giving the French a severe lesson, surprised and terrified by their fury, no longer knew what measures to take in order to resist these invincible demons, as he called them, whom nothing could arrest, and who, without deigning to reply to their enemies' fire, had only fought with the bayonet since their first discharge.

Driven in on all sides, the general concentrated his troops on the Alameda, and protected the approaches by guns loaded with canister. In spite of the enormous losses they had suffered, the Mexicans were still more than six hundred combatants, resolved to defend themselves to the death. The count sent Don Cornelio to Captain de Laville with orders to charge and sabre the last defenders of the city, while he made a flank movement with the infantry. The captain started immediately at a gallop, overthrowing with his horse's chest all obstacles. His pace was so hurried that he arrived alone in front of the enemy.

The Mexicans, terrified at the extraordinary audacity of this man, hesitated for a moment; but at the repeated orders of their chiefs they opened their fire on de Laville, who seemed to mock them, and the balls began whistling like hail past the ears of the intrepid Frenchman, who remained calm and motionless in the midst of this shower of lead. Valentine, frightened by the captain's boldness, doubled his speed, and brought up all the cavalry.

"Hang it, de Laville!" he exclaimed with admiration, "what are you doing there?"

"You see, my friend," the latter answered with charming simplicity, "I am waiting for you."⁷

Electrified by these noble words, the French dashed on the Alameda, and charged to the other end with shouts of "Long live France!" a shout to which the count's infantry responded from the other side of the Alameda, while attacking the Mexicans at the bayonet's point.

There were a few moments of deadly struggling and a horrible carnage. The count, in the height of the medley, fought like the meanest of his soldiers, exciting them incessantly, and urging them forward. At last, in spite of their desperate resistance, the Mexicans, pitilessly sabred by the French, no longer able to organise any effectual defence, and frightened by the ardour and invincible courage of their adversaries, whom they regarded as demons, began to break and fly in every direction. In spite of the fatigue of the horses, de Laville started in pursuit with his cavalry.

Hermosillo was taken – the Count de Prébois Crancé was victorious. Stopping in the midst of the pile of corpses which surrounded him, he drew his watch coldly, and consulted it. It was eleven o'clock, as the count had told the envoys in the morning: he had become master of the city at eleven o'clock exactly. The battle had lasted an hour.

"Now, brothers," the count said, as he returned his sabre to the scabbard, "the city is ours! Enough blood has been shed: let us think of aiding the wounded. Long live France!"

"Long live France!" the adventurers shouted with maddening delight.

CHAPTER XXII
AFTER THE VICTORY

Never before had a more brilliant victory been gained by troops numerically so weak, and under conditions apparently so unfavourable. The Mexican array evacuated Hermosillo in the utmost disorder, abandoning three hundred dead and wounded, baggage of every description, guns, ammunition, and flags. The rout was complete.

General Guerrero, shame on his brow and rage in his heart, fled at full speed along the Ures road, pursued closely by the French cavalry. The count had made a large number of prisoners, among whom were several Mexican officers.

The joy of the adventurers bordered on madness. Still the brilliant advantages had not been gained without a sensible loss, regard being had to the numerical strength of the army. It had lost twenty-two men – an enormous amount, which evidenced the obstinacy of the fight, and the courage with which the Mexicans had fought. Among the dead the count had to regret several of his best-beloved officers, brave young fellows, who had fallen at the head of their sections while urging their men on.

The count, although his clothes were riddled with bullets, had not received a scratch: it seemed as if a charm protected him, for no one had spared his life less than himself during the fight. He had ever been in the thickest of the action, in advance of his comrades, encouraging them by word and deed, and only employing his sabre to ward off blows that came too near him.

So soon as the battle was over the count proceeded to the Cabildo, whither the Mexican authorities were convened, in order to settle with him as to the safety of the city. Don Cornelio had not left him during the fight: he had done his duty bravely by his side.

"Don Cornelio," he said to him, "I am pleased with you; you behaved most bravely. I wish to reward you by intrusting to you a mission of the highest importance. Are you too tired to get on horseback?"

"No, señor conde. Besides, you know that I am a thorough jinete."

"That is true. Here are two letters, one for Don Rafaël, which you will deliver in passing the Hacienda del Milagro: when you get in sight of La Magdalena you will tear the envelope off the other, and carry it to the address you will read on it; but in the event of your being stopped or taken prisoner on the road, that letter must not be found on you, and no one must know its contents. You understand me?"

"Perfectly, señor conde, and if necessary it shall be destroyed."

"Very good. Now get a fresh horse and start without the loss of a moment: it is a question of life and death."

"I start, Don Louis; you will hear of me again."

These words were accompanied by a sinister smile, which passed unnoticed by the count. Don Cornelio left the room, and five minutes later his horse's hoofs could be heard echoing on the pavement.

At this moment Valentine entered. The hunter's features, usually so calm, were convulsed, and he seemed suffering from extreme agitation. He looked around him on entering.

"What are you looking for?" the count asked him; "and what is the meaning of the state in which I see you?"

"It means – " Valentine answered. "But stay, better so. Take a glance at these papers which I seized in the house of General Guerrero."

He handed the count a bundle of letters and other papers, which the other rapidly read through.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, stamping his foot passionately, "such great ingratitude after so many acts of kindness! A thousand devils! this land is, then, accursed, that treason should spring up under every blade of grass."

"Fortunately we have the proofs to hand. I will take on myself to arrest the villain."

"It is too late."

"How too late?" the hunter exclaimed. "Where is he, then?"

"He has set out on a mission of the highest importance, which I intrusted to him for the leaders of the malcontents."

"Confusion!" the hunter said; "what is to be done? It is plain that the scoundrel will sell our secrets to the enemy."

"Wait. I gave him a letter for Don Rafaël, which he cannot fail to deliver."

"That is true: if only to lull suspicion to sleep, he will do so. I will be off to the hacienda at once."

"Go, my friend: unfortunately I cannot accompany you."

"It is unnecessary. I swear that if this devil's own Don Cornelio falls into my hands, I will crush him like the viper he is. Good-by."

The hunter hurriedly left the Cabildo, and a few minutes later, followed by Belhumeur, Black Elk, Curumilla, and Eagle-head, he was galloping at full speed along the road to the hacienda.

The count then occupied himself, before taking a moment's rest, in organising the tranquillity and security of the city. As most of the Mexican authorities had taken flight, he appointed others, had the dead buried, and arranged an hospital for the sick, the direction of which he gave to Father Seraphin, whose evangelic devotion was beyond all praise.

Posts and main guards were established, and patrols received orders to march about the city in order to maintain tranquillity – a useless measure of precaution, for the inhabitants appeared as joyful as the French. The streets were hung with flags, and on all sides could be heard shouts of "Long live France! long live Sonora!" repeated with an expression of indescribable satisfaction.

When the count had discharged these imperious duties, his mind being no longer over-excited by the necessity of the moment, nature, conquered for an instant, gained the upper hand with an extreme of reaction, and Don Louis fell back almost fainting into the chair where he had been working without relaxation for nearly eight hours. He remained thus without help until a late hour of the night, for he had not the strength to call for assistance.

At length Captain de Laville entered to make his chief a report about the result of the pursuit of the Mexicans. He was terrified at the state in which he found Don Louis; for the count was suffering from a violent fever, attended by delirium. The captain immediately summoned the company's surgeon, and the count was laid in a hastily-prepared bed.

The surgeon could not be found, and a Mexican doctor came in his stead. This man declared that the count was suffering from an attack of dysentery, and made him drink a potion which he prepared at once. The count fell into a species of lethargic sleep which lasted ten hours. Fortunately the company's surgeon at length arrived. After a glance at the count, and examining the few drops of the potion left in the glass, the doctor immediately had eggs beaten in milk administered to the count, and ordered all his limbs to be rubbed with hot napkins.

"Why, doctor," the captain remarked to him, "what sort of treatment is this? The physician assured me that the count had the dysentery."

The doctor smiled sorrowfully.

"Yes," he said, "he has a dysentery; but do you know what the physician gave him?"

"No."

"Belladonna; that is to say, poison."

"Oh!" the captain said in horror.

"Silence!" the surgeon continued. "Let this remain a secret between us two."

At this moment the physician entered. He was a plump little man, with the look of a frightened cat. The captain seized him by the collar, and dragged him into a corner of the room.

"Look here!" he said to him, pointing to the glass the surgeon still held in his hand. "Of what was that potion composed you gave the count?"

The Mexican turned pale.

"Why?" he stammered.

"Poison, you villain!" the captain shouted violently.

"Poison!" he exclaimed, raising his eyes and arms to heaven. "Could it be possible? Oh, let us see!"

He examined the glass with feigned attention.

"It is true," he said after a moment. "Por Dios, what inadvertence!"

The word appeared so precious to the Frenchmen that, in spite of their anger and alarm, they could not prevent it, but burst into a loud laugh. The little doctor took advantage of this attack of gaiety to escape very quietly, and could never be found again, though carefully sought for: he had probably left the city.

Thanks to the intelligent and affectionate care of the surgeon, however, the effects of the poison were neutralised. The count felt a little better, and gave orders that the company should assemble at once in the patio of the Cabildo. The command was rapidly obeyed, and within an hour the company was drawn up under arms in the courtyard. The count came down, leaning on the arm of Captain de Laville.

"My comrades," he said, "I am ill, as you can see. Still I have called you together to inform you of an engagement I have made in your name with the inhabitants of Hermosillo. I declared that even if you walked over piles of piastres and ounces, you would not stoop down to pick them up. Was I wrong?"

"No," they all exclaimed; "you were quite right."

"We are no pirates, whatever they may say," the count continued, "and the hour has arrived to prove it."

"We will do so."

"Thank you, comrades."

The company was dismissed, and carefully kept its promise: not a waist-buckle was stolen by these half-naked men, who for four months had been suffering the most horrible privations.

The count's condition, however, instead of becoming better, grew worse daily, in spite of the anxious attentions of the doctor and Father Seraphin, who had posted himself by his bed, and never left him. In Don Louis the mind wore out the body. Since Don Cornelio's departure he had received no news either of the Spaniard or Valentine. Two faithful men, sent to the Hacienda del Milagro, had not returned, and neither Don Rafaël nor Doña Angela gave a sign of life.

This silence became incomprehensible. On the other hand, the situation of the company was growing daily more serious. The count, master of a powerful city, found himself more isolated than before; the pueblos that should have risen did not stir; the man to whom the count had written, and who had pledged himself to give the signal for revolt, gave no reply to the appeal, and remained indifferent to the repeated entreaties Don Louis made him.

Unfortunately dysentery is one of those frightful diseases which completely annihilate a man's faculties, and for a very long period the count was incapable of attending to anything. Señor Pavo had come at full speed from Guaymas to Hermosillo, ostensibly to felicitate the count on his gallant exploit, but in reality to be able to betray him with greater facility.

Don Louis was alone, without friends in whom he could trust, lying on a bed of pain, internally devoured by a mortal restlessness, and a prey to a profound despair at seeing himself reduced to a state of powerlessness, and losing the fruits of his toil and fatigues.

Captain de Laville, the only man in whom he could have trusted at the moment, was attacked by the same illness as his chief, and, like him, was incapable of acting. Señor Pavo skilfully profited by this state of affairs to sow seeds of disaffection among the Frenchmen. The count was the soul of the company – the only tie that rendered it compact and united: in his absence from his duties all went wrong.

A system was then organised in the shade by Don Pavo. This system consisted in continual demonstrations on the part of the adventurers, who at every hour of the day came one after the other to lay before the count the most absurd grievances, and threaten to leave him. At last matters reached such a pitch that it was necessary to come to some decision.

Two courses offered themselves: the first, to give up the results of the victory of Hermosillo, and retreat on Guaymas. This was suggested to the count by the French representative, Señor Don Antonio Mendez Pavo. The second was to await at Hermosillo, while holding their ground by force and risking a siege, the succours which must speedily arrive from California, where they were being rapidly organised. So greatly had the news of the brilliant victory gained by the count electrified the minds of the adventurers, and inflamed their imagination.

These two courses were equally repugnant to the count. The first seemed to him shameful; the second impracticable. Still the situation was growing every day more and more intolerable, when at this moment a strange event occurred, which, had we been writing a romance instead of a history, would have seemed to us too startling for credibility.

The company, incessantly excited by the hypocritical pity of Señor Pavo, and the dark intrigues he set at work, had fallen into a state of perfect insubordination towards the count, and almost open revolt. Seeing that Don Louis was too ill to act vigorously, and incapable of opposing anything they pleased to do, the men let him know that, unless he consented to give the order for retreat, they would leave Hermosillo and abandon him.

The count was forced to yield. General Guerrero had pledged his word that the retreat should not be disquieted, Don Louis succeeded in obtaining hostages who responded for the safety of the sick he was compelled to leave behind, and with a breaking heart, no strength or courage left, he was borne away in a litter. A reaction took place among the volunteers at the sight of their well-beloved chief, reduced to this miserable state, and almost dead of sorrow. They pressed round him, swearing obedience and fidelity, and promising him to fall to the last man for him. A melancholy smile played round the pallid lips of the dying man, for these proofs of devotion came too late. The count, crushed by a succession of insults, had drunk the cup to the dregs: he no longer put faith in his comrades.

The retreat commenced. In spite of the general's solemn pledge, it was an uninterrupted succession of skirmishes; but a final ray of glory was reflected on the French. The adventurers, aroused by the smell of powder, found all their courage once more to victoriously repulse the attacks of the Mexicans, whom they compelled to retreat pitiably, and give up any further annoyances.

The company camped about three leagues from Guaymas, resolved to force a passage, and enter that port the next day in spite of any opposition. The count, slightly revived by the prospect of an approaching combat, had fallen asleep after making all his preparations, when toward midnight he was aroused by the arrival of a flag of truce.

The envoys were Señor Pavo and a merchant of Guaymas, who came on behalf of General Guerrero. They were bearers of an armistice for forty-eight hours; and a letter from the general, who earnestly begged the count to come to him in order to arrange the terms of peace.

"I consent to the armistice," the count replied. "Let the general send me an escort, and I will go to him."

His companions objected.

"Why not take your cavalry?" one of them said to him.

"For what use?" he said with discouragement. "I am the only person they care for: if a trap is set for me, I will fall into it alone."

The adventurers insisted, but he remained inflexible.

"We no longer understand one another," he said to them.

Then he turned to the negotiators.

"Return to Guaymas, gentlemen, and be good enough to tell General Guerrero that I thank him, and am awaiting his escort."

The escort arrived at daybreak, and the count set out, after a last and melancholy glance at his comrades, who witnessed his departure with aching hearts and tears in their eyes. Henceforth the divorce between the count and the adventurers was accomplished.

General Guerrero, on the count's entrance to Guaymas, ordered the honours due to a commander-in-chief to be paid him. Don Louis smiled with disdain. What did he care for these empty ceremonies?

The count and the general had a lengthened conversation together. The general had not yet given up his projects of seduction; but this time, like the first, the count answered with a positive refusal.

The company was henceforth surrendered defencelessly to the machinations of Señor Pavo. This man lost no time, and by his advice the adventurers sent as a deputation to the count two ignorant sailors, with orders to come to a settlement with him at any price. These two emissaries were selected by Señor Pavo, for the worthy man knew perfectly well what he was about. The two sailors presented themselves at the count's house, who sent out a message to them that he was engaged at the moment, and begged them to wait a little while. The ambassadors, ruffled in their self-esteem, and puffed up with the importance of the mission intrusted to them, left the count's house immediately, swearing at his insolence, and went straight to the palace of General Guerrero.

The latter, advised beforehand, knew what would happen, and was impatiently awaiting them. He ordered them to be admitted at once so soon as they sent in their names, and received them most graciously: then, when he had sufficiently intoxicated them with flattery, he made them sign – that is to say, make a cross at the foot of – a treaty, in which they recognised that, having been deceived and abandoned in a cowardly manner by their chief, they pledged themselves to lay down their arms and quit the country for a sum of eleven thousand piastres.⁸ We must confess that General Guerrero made a capital bargain, for the arms came into his possession. Oh! the Mexicans are famous negotiators, and, above all, most crafty diplomatists.

Unable to vanquish the company, the Mexicans bought it of two scoundrels, by the intervention of a third, whose duty it was to defend it.

Thus the Atrevida Company had committed suicide. It effected its own dissolution without even attempting to see once again that chief who had been its idol, and whom it abandoned writhing on a bed of suffering.

We must mention, to the honour of the French plenipotentiaries that, in the treaty they signed, the liberty of the count was formally guaranteed.

Now let us see by what extraordinary concourse of circumstances the count, when in such a critical position, was thus abandoned by all his friends. How was it that General Guerrero, his obstinate foe, had shown himself so kind and almost generous toward Don Louis during the last events we have narrated?

We will proceed to explain this; but, in order to do so, we must take up events further back, and return to Valentine and his comrades, whom we left galloping at full speed along the road to the hacienda.