"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."
"Señor," 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 terrible ruins, a city of desolation, worthy to be mourned by Jeremiah or sung by Homer.
In the Muela, where I stopped to recover myself, Don Roque appeared. He was leaving 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 treacherous 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 José 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 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, Señor Lannes? He does not lack impudence to do what he has done. He has taken the treasures of the Virgin del Pilar, saying 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 José, 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 company for a little time. And now we separated.
After I recovered, I continued in the campaign of 1809, taking part in other battles, becoming acquainted with new people, and establishing new friendships, or renewing the old.