Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 2/2

by C. Rochfort‏ Scott

The boldness of the manœuvre intimidated the rebels, who, thinking that this handful of men must be supported by a considerable force, hesitated, halted for further orders, and, finally, threw out a line of skirmishers to cover their movements, between whom and Antonio’s party a sharp fire was kept up for several minutes.

In this skirmish one of Antonio’s companions was killed, another fell badly wounded by his side, and he himself received a wound in his head, which, but that the ball had previously passed through the top of his chako, would, probably, have been fatal.

The rebels, discovering at length that the small force opposed to them was altogether without support, again formed in column of attack to force the bridge. The word “forward" was given, and Antonio feared that his devotion would prove of no avail, when, at the critical moment, the remainder of his company advanced from behind the venta at the pas de charge, rending the air with loud cries of “Viva el Rey,” and opening a fire which took the enemy in flank.

The rebels saw that the golden opportunity had been missed, and, seized with a panic, retired hastily to their stronghold, closely pressed by the cazadores, who hoped to enter the town pêle mêle with them.

The commander of the king’s troops, who had galloped to the spot where he heard firing, determined, however, to adhere to the plan of reducing the rebels to starvation; which now, by Antonio’s gallantry, he was certain of eventually effecting; and ordered, therefore, the recall to be sounded as soon as he saw the enemy had regained the town. Unfortunately for our hero, who, attended by a single comrade, was at the extreme left of the extended line of skirmishers, and had taken advantage of one of the deep gullies that furrow the side of the mountain to advance unobserved on the enemy; he neither heard the signal to retire, nor saw his companions fall back; continuing, therefore, to advance, it was only on gaining the head of the ravine that he suddenly became aware of the extreme peril of their situation, and that a quick retreat alone could save them. It was, however, too late; his comrade—his bosom friend, Gaspar Herrera—fell, apparently dead, a dozen paces from him, and he, himself, in the act of raising up his brave companion, was brought to the ground by a ball, which splintered his ankle-bone. He managed, with great difficulty, to crawl to some palmeta bushes, having first sheltered the body of his friend behind the stem of a stunted olive tree, which would not afford cover for both; and, lying flat on the ground, waited for some time in the hope that his company had merely moved round to the left to gain a more accessible part of the mountain, and would speedily renew the attack.

At length, his patience becoming exhausted, he thought it would be well to let his comrades know where he was, and once more levelling his musket, resumed the offensive by attacking a pig, which, unconscious of danger, came grunting with carniverous purpose towards that part of the gory field where the body of his friend Gaspar lay extended. This drew a heavy fire upon Antonio, but, as he was much below the rebels, who had all retired into the town, and was tolerably well sheltered by the friendly palmetas, he escaped further damage.

In the meanwhile, Antonio and Gaspar had had been reported as killed to the captain of the cazadores, who, whilst deploring with the other officers the loss of the two most promising young men of his company, heard the renewed firing in the direction of the late skirmish. “Corajo!” he exclaimed, “that must be Condé and Herrera still at it.” “No, Señor,” replied the serjeant, “they were both seen to fall as we retreated from the hill; that firing must be an attack upon our friends posted on the other side of the town; the rebels are probably attempting to force a passage in that direction.” “Well then, I cannot do wrong in advancing,” said the captain, “so let us on. Nevertheless, I still think it is the fire of Condé and his comrade, and I know, my brave fellows,” he continued, addressing his men, “I know that if it be possible to bring them off, you will do it.”

They advanced, accordingly, in the direction of the firing, and, as the captain had conjectured, there they found Condé continuing the combat à l’outrance, extended full length upon the ground under cover of the palmeta bushes, with his head and ankle bandaged, and his ammunition nearly exhausted. They fortunately succeeded in bearing him off without sustaining any loss, though Condé insisted on their first removing the seemingly lifeless body of his friend Gaspar, which he pointed out to them.

The detachment at the venta had now been reinforced by some cavalry and artillery, and the remainder of the Queen’s regiment, whilst the rest of the Royalist force took post on the opposite side of the town, in a position that covered the roads to Chiclana, Medina, Sidonia, and Alcalà de los Gazules, thereby depriving the beleaguered rebels of all chance of escape.

Towards dusk that same evening, one of Torrijos’s troopers was brought in a prisoner. Unconscious of the state of affairs, he had mistaken a cavalry piquet of the king’s troops for the advanced guard of the facciosos, and had not even discovered his error in time to destroy the despatches of which he was the bearer. By these it was learnt that Torrijos, apprized of the failure on Cadiz and subsequent escape of the rebel-band from the Isla de Leon, had not budged from the spot where he had effected his landing; but he now sent to acquaint his coadjutors that he had collected a sufficiency of boats to take them all off, and that the bearer would be their guide to the place of embarkation.