Zaragoza. English Read online

  CHAPTER II

  The place where we lay down did not by any blandishments invite us tosleep luxuriously until morning, and certainly a mattress of brokenstones is conducive to early rising. We wakened with the dawn; and aswe had to spend no time in making a toilet before a dressing-table, wewere 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 thingto have some breakfast, but at the same time we agreed unanimously thatit was impossible, as we had not the wherewithal to carry out such ahigh purpose.

  "Don't be discouraged, boys," said Don Roque; "because very soon I willtake 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 awoman, of those who had been our companions there. They looked as ifthey were accustomed to sleep in the place. One of them was a cripple,a poor unfortunate who ended at his knees, and put himself in motionby the aid of crutches, swinging himself forward on them as if by oars.He was an old man, with a jovial face well burned by the sun. As hesaluted us very pleasantly in passing, wishing us a good-morning, DonRoque asked him in what part of the city was the house of Don Jos? deMontoria. The cripple replied:--

  "Don Jos? de Montoria? I know him as if he were the apple of my eye. Itis twenty years since he used to live in the Calle de la 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 we have come to enlist withthe 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 greatfeat of arms."

  "You did not see the battle of Eras?" asked the beggar, sitting down infront of us.

  "We did not have that felicity either."

  "Well, Don Jos? Montoria was there. He was one of those who pulled thecannon into place for firing. Well, well, I see that you haven't seena thing. From what part of the world do you come?"

  "From Madrid," said Don Roque. "So you are not able to tell me where mydear friend Don Jos? 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 breadfor his breakfast. "From the Calle de la Parra he moved to the Callede Enmedio. You know that all those houses were blown up. There wasStephen Lopez, a soldier of the Tenth Company of the First Regiment ofAragon Volunteers, and he alone, with forty men, himself forced theFrench 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 Iwas crawling along the Calle de la Paja, and I saw the woman who firedoff the big cannon."

  "We have already heard of the heroism of that noble woman," said DonRoque; "but if you could make up your mind to tell us--"

  "Oh, of course. Don Jos? de Montoria is a great friend of the merchantDon Andr?s Guspide, who on the fourth of August was firing from nearthe narrow street of the Torre del Pino. Hand-grenades and bullets wereraining all about him, and my Don Andr?s stood like a rock. More than ahundred 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, se?or," replied the cripple; "and they are two of the bestgentlemen in all Saragossa, and they give me a little something everySaturday. For you must know that I am Pepe Pallejas, and they call meSursum Corda, as twenty-four years ago I was sacristan of the Church ofJesus, and I used to sing----But this is not coming to the point, and Iwas going on to say I am Sursum Corda, and perhaps you have heard aboutme in Madrid?"

  "Yes," said Don Roque, yielding to his generous impulses; "it seems tome that I have heard the Se?or Sursum Corda mentioned there, haven'twe, boys?"

  "Well, it's likely, and you must know that before the siege I used tobeg at the door of this monastery of Santa Engracia, which was blown upby the bandits on the thirteenth of August. I beg now at the Puertade Jerusalem, at the Jerusalem Gate--where you will be able to findme whenever you like. Well, as I was saying, on the fourth of AugustI was here, and I saw Francisco Quilez come out of the church, firstsergeant of the First Company of fusileers, who, you must already know,with thirty-five men, cast out the bandits from the Convent of theIncarnation. I see that you look surprised--yes! Well, in the orchardof the convent at the back is where the Lieutenant Don Miguel Giladied. There are at the least two hundred bodies in that orchard; andthere Don Felipe San Clement, a merchant of Saragossa, broke both hislegs. Indeed, if Don Miguel Salamero had not been present--don't youknow anything about that?"

  "No, sir, my friend," said Don Roque; "we don't know anything aboutit, and although we have the greatest pleasure in your telling us ofso many wonders, what most concerns us now is to find out where weare going to find my old friend Don Jos?. We four are suffering froma disease called hunger, which cannot be cured by listening to therecounting of sublimities."

  "Well, now, in a minute I will take you where you want to go," repliedSursum Corda, offering us a part of his crust; "but first I will tellyou something, and that is that if Don Mariano Cereso had not defendedthe Castle Aljaferia as he did defend it, nothing would have been donein the Portillo quarter. And this man, by the grace of God, this manwas Don Mariano Cereso! During the attack of the fourth of August, heused to walk in the streets with his sword in its antique sheath. Itwould terrify you to see him! This Santa Engracia quarter seemed likea furnace, se?ors. The bombs and the hand-grenades rained down; butthe patriots did not mind them any more than so many drops of water.A good part of the convent fell down; the houses trembled, and allthis that we see seemed no more than a barrier of playing cards, bythe way it caught fire and crumbled away. Fire in the windows, fireat the top, fire at the base! The French fell like flies, fell likeflies, gentlemen. And as for the Saragossans, life and death were allthe same to them. Don Antonio Quadros went through there, and whenhe looked at the French batteries, he was in a state to swallow themwhole. The bandits had sixty cannon vomiting fire against the walls.You did not see it? Well, I saw it, and the pieces of brick of thewall and the earth of the parapets scattered like crumbs of a loaf. Butthe dead served as a barricade,--the dead on top, the dead below, aperfect mountain of the dead. Don Antonio's eyes shot flame. The boysfired without stopping. Their souls were all made of bullets! Didn'tyou see it? Well, I did, and the French batteries were all cleaned outof gunners. When he saw one of the enemy's cannon was without men, thecommander shouted, 'An epaulet to the man who spikes that cannon!'Pepillo Ruiz started and walked up to it as if he was promenading ina garden among butterflies and may flowers, only here the butterflieswere bullets, and the flowers were bombs. Pepillo Ruiz spiked thecannon, and came back laughing. And now another part of the convent wasfalling down. Whoever was smashed by it, remained smashed! Don AntonioQuadros said that that did not bother him any, and seeing that theenemy's batteries had opened a large hole in the wall, went to stuffit full of bags of wool. Then a bullet struck him in the head. Theybrought him here; he said that was nothing either, and died."

  "Oh," said Don Roque, impatiently, "we are sufficiently astonished,Se?or Sursum Corda, and the most pure patriotism inflames us to hearyou relate such great deeds; but if you could only make up your mind totell us where--"

  "Good Lord!" exclaimed the beggar, "who said I wouldn't tell you? Ifthere is any one thing I know better than another, and have seen mostof anything in my life, it is the house of Don Jos? de Montoria. It isnear 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 werefalling down, threw themselves from the windows into the street. Otherscrawled or rolled down the stairs. The partitions burned, and you couldhear wailings. The lunatics bellowed in their cages like mad beasts.Many of them escaped and went through the cloisters, laughing anddancing with a thousand fantastic gestures that were frightful to see.They came out into the street as on carnival day; and one climbed thecross in the Coso, where he began a harangue, saying that he was theRiver Ebro, and he would run over the city and put out the fire. Thewomen ran to care for the sick, who were all carried off to Del Pilarand to La Seo. You could not get through the streets. Signals weregiven from the Torre Nueva whenever a bomb was coming, but the uproarof the people prevented their hearing the bells. The French advancedby this street of Santa Engracia. They took possession of the hospitaland of the Convent of San Francisco. The fighting began in the quarterof the Coso, and in the streets thereabouts. Don Santiago Sas, DonMariano Cereso, Don Lorenzo Calvo, Don Marcos Simono, Renovales, MartinAlbantos, Vicente Cod?, Don Vicente Marraco, and others fearlesslyattacked the French. And behind a barricade made by herself, awaitedthem, furious, gun in hand, the Countess de Bureta."

  "What a woman, a countess, making barricades and firing guns!" criedDon Roque, enthusiastically.

  "You did not know it?" he returned. "Well, where do you live? TheSe?ora Maria Consolacion Azlor y Villavicencio, who lives near the EcceHomo, also walked through the streets, saying words of good cheer tothose who were discouraged. Afterwards she made them close the entranceto the street, and herself took the lead of a party of peasants,crying, 'Here we will all die before we will let them pass!'"

  "Oh, what sublime heroism!" exclaimed Don Roque, yawning with hunger."How much I should enjoy hearing those tales of heroism told on a fullstomach! So you say that the house of Don Jos? is to be found--"

  "It is just around there," said the cripple. "You know already that theFrench had entangled 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 Parraand the Square of Estrevedes, in the Calles de los Urreas, Santa Fe,and Del Azoque, the peasants cut the French to pieces. The cannonadingand the roar of that day still ring in my ears. The French burned downthe houses that they could not defend, and the Saragossans did thesame. There was firing on every side. Men, women, and children,--it wasenough to have two hands to fight against the enemy. And you did notsee 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 arecharmed with your conversation; but if you can take us this instant tothe house of my friend, or direct us so that we can find it, we will goalong."

  "In a minute, gentlemen. Don't hurry," replied Sursum Corda, startingoff 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 Companyof Regulars, and you must know he saved from the treasury sixteenthousand, four hundred pesos, and took from the French the candles thatthey stole from the church."

  "Go on ahead, go on, friend," I said, seeing that this indefatigabletalker intended stopping to give all the details of the heroism ofAntonio Laste.

  "We shall arrive soon," replied Sursum; "on the morning of the first ofJuly I was going past here, when I encountered Hilario Lafuente, firstcorporal of fusileers of the Parish of Sas, and he said to me, 'To-daythey are going to attack the Portillo;' then I went to see what therewas 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," continuedthe cripple, going around a corner, "is the one that burned on thefourth, when Don Francisco Ipas, sub-lieutenant of the Second Companyof fusileers of the parish of San Pablo, stood here with a cannon, andthese--"

  "We know the rest, my good man," said Don Roque. "Forward, march! andthe faster the better."

  "But much better was what Cod? did, the farmer of the parish of LaMagdalena, with the cannon of the Calle de la Parra," persisted thebeggar, stopping once more. "When he was going to fire the gun, theFrench surrounded him, everybody ran away; but Cod? got under thecannon, and the French passed by without seeing him. Afterwards, helpedby an old woman who brought him some rope, he pulled that big piece ofartillery 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 muchobstinacy, that at last, although very slowly, he took us through theCoso and the Market to the Calle de la Hilarza, the street whereinstood the house of the person whom we were seeking.