Tales from Blackwood Volume Ii Part 4

"Suppose I was to call the sergeant of the guard," said Bill.

"You wouldn't do such a action?" said Bags, in a tone strongly expressive of disgust at such baseness. "No, no, Bill, you ain't that sort of fellow, _I'm_ sure."

"It's my dooty," said the sentry, placing the b.u.t.t of his musket on the ground, and leaning his elbow on the muzzle. "You see that what you said, Tongs, was very true, about its being hard upon me to be carrying about this here d.a.m.nable weppin" (slapping the barrel of the musket) "all day for fourpence ha'penny, while you are making your fortin. It is, Tongs, d----d hard."

"Never mind; there'll be plenty left to-morrow," said Bags in a consolatory tone.

"What shall we say, now, if I lets ye hide it?" said Bill, pointing to the bundle. "Half-shares?"

"This ain't like a friend, Bill," returned Tongs, highly disgusted with this ungenerous proposal. "n.o.body ever knowed me interfere with a comrade when I was on sentry. How long ago is it since I let ye stay in my box an hour, till ye was sober enough to walk into barracks, when I was sentry at the gate? Why, the whole bundle ain't worth eighteenpence--and I've worked hard for it."

"Half-shares?" reiterated Bill, not melted in the least by the memory of ancient benefits.

"No, by G----!" said Bags in great wrath.

"Serg----," began Bill in an elevated voice, porting his arms at the same time.

"Stop!" said Bags; "don't call the sergeant. Half is better nor nothing, if ye're going to behave like that. We'll say half, then."

"Ah," said Bill, returning to his former position--"I thought we should agree. And now let's see 'em, Tongs."

Muttering still his disapprobation of this unworthy treatment, Bags put his bundle on the stone embrasure of the battery, and began to unfold it.

Eighteenpence was certainly a low valuation. Bags appeared to have visited a jeweller's shop. Watches, rings, bracelets, gold chains, and brooches glittered on the dingy surface of the handkerchief.

"My eye!" said Bill, unable to repress a low laugh of delight--"why, we'll turn bankers when we've sold 'em. Tongs and Co.--eh?" said Bill with considerable humour.

Bags, however, told him he was altogether mistaken in his estimate--most of the things were pinchbeck, he said, and the stones all gla.s.s; and, to save Bill any trouble, he offered to dispose of them himself to the best possible advantage, and bring his partner his share of the proceeds, which would certainly be at least ninepence, and might perhaps be half-a-dollar. This arrangement did not, however, meet the approbation of the astute William, who insisted on dividing the spoils by lot. But here, again, there was a slight misunderstanding, for both fixed their affections on a gigantic watch, which never could have been got into any modern pocket, and whose face was ornamented with paintings from the heathen mythology. Both of them supposed, from the size and the brilliancy of the colours, that this must be of immense value. Finding they were not likely to come to a speedy arrangement on this point, they agreed to postpone the division of the spoils till morning.

"I'll tell ye where to put it, Bags," said Bill. "These here guns in this battery haven't been fired for years, nor ain't likely to be, though they loaded 'em the other day. Take out the wad of this one, and put in the bundle."

Bags approved of the idea, withdrew the wad from the muzzle of the gun, put in the bundle as far as his arm would reach, and then replaced the wad.

"Honour bright?" said Bags, preparing to depart.

"Honour bright," returned Bill; and Bags disappeared.

Nevertheless he did not feel sufficient confidence in the brightness of his confederate's integrity to justify his quitting the place and leaving him to his own devices. He thought Bill might perhaps avail himself of his absence to remove the treasure, or be guilty of some other treachery. He therefore crept back again softly, till he got behind a crag from whence he had a full view of the battery.

For some time Bill walked sternly to and fro on his post. Bags observed, however, that he always included the gun where the deposit lay in his perambulations, which became shorter and shorter. At last he halted close to it, laid down his musket against the parapet, and, approaching the muzzle of the gun, took out the wad.

At this moment a neighbouring sentry gave an alarm. The guard turned out, and Bill, hastily replacing the wad, resumed his arms and looked about for the cause of the alarm. About a mile out in the bay several red sparks were visible. As he looked there were a corresponding number of flashes, and then a whistling of shot high overhead told that the guns from which they had been discharged had been laid too high. The Spanish gunboats were attacking the south.

The drums beat to arms, and in a few minutes the battery was manned with artillerymen. To the inconceivable horror of Bags and Bill, the whole of the guns in the battery were altered in position, and a gunner took post at the rear of each with a lighted portfire. Then a flushed face might be seen, by the blue light of the portfires, rising from behind a neighbouring piece of rock, the eyes staring, the mouth open in agonised expectation.

"Number one--fire!" said the officer in command, to the gunner in rear of the gun in which Mr Bags had invested his capital.

"No, no!" shouted Bags, rising wildly from behind the rock.

The portfire touched the vent--there was a discharge that seemed to rend Mr Bags' heartstrings and blow off the roof of his skull--and the clever speculation on which he had counted for making his fortune ended, like many others, in smoke. He gazed for a moment out in the direction of the flash, as if he expected to see the watches and rings gleaming in the air; then he turned and disappeared in the darkness.

After a few ineffectual discharges, the Spaniards seemed to become aware of the badness of their aim, and to take measures to amend it. Several shot struck the hospital; and some sh.e.l.ls falling through the roof, exploded in the very wards where the sick lay. The unhappy Jew, Lazaro, lying in a feverish and semi-delirious state from his former hurt and agitation, was again struck by a splinter of a sh.e.l.l which burst in the ward where the Major's care had seen him deposited, blowing up the ceiling and part of the wall. In the midst of the confusion, the Jew, frantic with terror, rushed unrestrained from the building, followed only by his daughter, who was watching by his bed. He was not missed for some time, and the attempts to discover him, made after his disappearance became known, were of no avail. A neighbouring sentry had seen a white figure, followed by another crying after it, dash across the road and disappear in the bushes; but the search made about the vicinity of the spot failed in detecting any traces of them, and those who troubled themselves to think of the matter at all, surmised that they had fallen into the sea.

CHAPTER V.

For some pages, my grandfather's note-book is filled with memoranda of singular casualties from the enemy's shot, wonderful escapes, and hasty moments of quietude and attempted comfort s.n.a.t.c.hed "even in the cannon's mouth." The fire from the Spanish batteries shortly reduced the town to ruins, and the gunboats at night precluded all hope of peace and oblivion after the horrors of the day. Dreams, in which these horrors were reproduced, were interrupted by still more frightful nocturnal realities. One of the curious minor evils that my grandfather notices, as resulting from an incessant cannonade, to those not engaged in it actively enough to withdraw their attention from the noise, is the extreme irritation produced by its long continuance, amounting, in persons of nervous and excitable temperament, to positive exasperation.

Some of the numerous incidents he chronicles are also recorded by Drinkwater, especially that of a man who recovered after being almost knocked to pieces by the bursting of a sh.e.l.l. "His head was terribly fractured, his left arm broken in two places, one of his legs shattered, the skin and muscles torn off his right hand, the middle finger broken to pieces, and his whole body most severely bruised and marked with gunpowder. He presented so horrid an object to the surgeons, that they had not the smallest hopes of saving his life, and were at a loss what part to attend to first. He was that evening trepanned; a few days afterwards his leg was amputated, and other wounds and fractures dressed. Being possessed of a most excellent const.i.tution, nature performed wonders in his favour, and in eleven weeks the cure was completely effected. His name," continues Mr. Drinkwater, with what might be deemed irony--if the worthy historian ever indulged in that figure of rhetoric--"is Donald Ross, and he" (_i.e._ the remaining fragment of the said Donald Ross) "now enjoys his sovereign's bounty in a pension of ninepence a-day for life." One might almost suppose that Mr Hume had some hand in affixing the gratuity; but in those days there was a king who knew not Joseph.

My grandfather appears to have had also an adventure of his own. During a cessation of the cannonade, he was sitting one morning on a fragment of rock, in the garden behind his quarters, reading his favourite author. The firing suddenly recommenced, and a long-ranged sh.e.l.l, striking the ground at some distance, rolled towards him. He glanced half-absently at the hissing missile; and whether he actually did not for a moment recollect its character, or whether, as was often the case on such occasions, the imminence of the danger paralysed him, he sat immovably watching it as it fizzed within a couple of yards of him.

Unquestionably in another three seconds my grandfather's earthly tabernacle would have been resolved into its original atoms, had not the intrepid Carlota (who was standing near gathering flowers to stick in her hair) darted on him, and, seizing him by the arm, dragged him behind a wall. They were scarce under shelter when the sh.e.l.l exploded--the shock laying them both prostrate, though unhurt but for a few bruises--while the stone on which the Major had been sitting was s.h.i.+vered to atoms. To the description of this incident in the Major's journal are appended a pious reflection and a short thanksgiving, which, being entirely of a personal nature, I omit.

The stores landed from the fleet were in a very precarious position.

Owing to the destruction of the buildings, there were no means of placing them where they might be sheltered at once from the fire of the enemy and from rain. Some were piled under sails spread out as a sort of roof to protect them, and some, that were not likely to sustain immediate injury from the damp air of such a depository, were ordered to be conveyed to St Michael's Cave.

This cave is one of the most curious features of the Rock. Its mouth--an inconsiderable opening in the slope of the mountain--is situated many hundred feet above the sea. Within, it expands into a s.p.a.cious hall, the roof, invisible in the gloom, supported by thick pillars formed by the petrified droppings of the rock. From this princ.i.p.al cavern numerous smaller ones branch off, leading, by dark, broken, and precipitous pa.s.sages, to unknown depths. Along one of these, according to tradition, Governor O'Hara advanced farther than ever man had gone before, and left his sword in the inmost recess to be recovered by the next explorer who should be equally adventurous. But whether it is that the tradition is unfounded, or that the weapon has been carried off by some gnome, or that the governor's exploit is as yet unrivalled, the sword has never been brought to light.

For the duty of placing the stores here, the name of Lieutenant Owen appeared in the garrison orders. My grandfather having nothing particular to do, and being anxious to escape as much as possible for a short time from the din of the bombardment, offered to accompany Frank in the execution of this duty.

The day was dark and gloomy, and the steep path slippery from rain, so that the mules bearing the stores toiled with difficulty up the ascent.

At first, my grandfather and Owen indulged in cheerful conversation; but shortness of breath soon reduced the Major to monosyllables, and the latter part of the journey was accomplished in silence. Frequently the Major paused and faced about, at once to look at the prospect and to take breath. Far below, on his right, was seen the southern end of the town, consisting partly of a heap of ruins, with here and there a rafter sticking out of the ma.s.s, partly of roofless walls, among which was occasionally heard the cras.h.i.+ng of shot; but the guns that discharged them, as well as those that replied from the town, were invisible from this point. Directly beneath him the ground afforded a curious spectacle, being covered with tents, huts, and sheds, of all sorts and sizes, where the outcast population of the ruined town obtained a precarious and insufficient shelter. The only building visible which still retained its former appearance was the convent--the governor's residence--which was protected by bomb-proofs, and where working-parties were constantly engaged in repairing the injuries. The bay, once thickly wooded with masts and dotted with sails, was now blank and cheerless; only the enemy's cruisers were visible, lying under the opposite sh.o.r.e of Spain.

Owen and my grandfather arrived at the mouth of the cave somewhat in advance of the convoy. To their surprise a smoke was issuing from it; and, as they approached nearer, their nostrils were greeted by an odour at once savoury and spicy. Going softly up they looked in.

Mr Bags and a couple of friends were seated round a fire, over which was roasting a small pig, scientifically butchered and deprived of his hair, and hung up by the heels. The fire, in the absence of other fuel (of which there was an extreme scarcity in Gibraltar), was supplied by bundles of cinnamon plundered from the store of some grocer, and, as the flame waxed low, Mr Bags took a fresh bundle from a heap of that fragrant spice by his side, and laid it on the embers. Mrs Bags was occupied in basting the pig with lard, which she administered from time to time with an iron ladle.

Presently Mr Bags tapped on the pig's back with his knife. It sent forth a crisp crackling sound, that made my grandfather's mouth water, and caused Mr Bags to become impatient.

"Polly," said he, "it's my opinion it's been done these three minutes. I can't wait much longer."

And he cast a glance at the other two soldiers (in whom, as well as in Bags, Owen recognised men of his company who had been reported absent for some days, and were supposed to have gone over to the enemy), to ascertain if their opinions tallied with his own on this point.

"It can't be no better," said one, taking hold of the pig's neck between his finger and thumb, which he afterwards applied to his mouth.

"I can't abear my meat overdone," said the third. "What I say is, let them that likes to wait, wait, and let them that wants to begin, begin."

So saying, he rose, and was about to attack the ribs of the porker with his knife.

"Do stop a minute--that's a dear," said Mrs Bags; "another bundle of cinnament will make it parfect. I'll give ye something to stay your stomach;" and stepping to a nook in the wall of the cavern, where stood a large barrel, she filled a pewter measure, and handed it to the impatient advocate for underdone pork, who took a considerable dram, and pa.s.sed it to his companions.

"Cinnament's better with pork nor with most things," said Bags. "It spoils goose, because it don't agree with the inions, and it makes fowls wishy-washy; but it goes excellent with pig."

"What's left in the larder?" asked one of the party.

"There's a week's good eating yet," said Mrs Bags, "and we _might_ make it do ten days or a fortnight."

"Well!" said the other, "they may say what they like about sieges, but this is the jolliest time ever _I_ had."