“I bring you my head!” exclaimed the major, as he made his appearance, pale and disordered.
He sat down and related the horrible adventure. His recital was received with appalling silence.
“I consider you more to be pitied than blamed,” the terrible general at length replied. “You are not answerable for the Spaniards’ crime; and provided the marshal does not decide otherwise I acquit you.”
These words afforded but very slight consolation to the unfortunate officer.
“When the emperor hears about it!” he exclaimed.
“He’ll want to have you shot,” said the general, “but we shall see. Now, let us say no more about it,” he added sternly, “except to exact a vengeance that will strike salutary terror into this country where they make war like savages.”
An hour later, a whole regiment of infantry, a detachment of cavalry and a train of artillery were on the march. The general and Victor marched at the head of the column. The soldiers, aware of the massacre of their comrades, were possessed with a fury without bounds. The distance which separated the town of Menda from the general headquarters was covered with miraculous rapidity. On the line of march, the general found whole villages under arms. Each of these miserable places was surrounded, and its inhabitants decimated.
By some inexplicable fatality, the English ships had remained hove to without advancing; but it was learned subsequently that these vessels had nothing on board but artillery, and had outsailed the other transports. Thus the town of Menda, deprived of its expected defenders, whom the appearance of the English sails had seemed to promise, was surrounded by the French troops almost without a blow being struck. The inhabitants, seized with terror, offered to surrender at discretion. With that devotion, instances of which have been not uncommon in the Peninsula, the assassins of the French, foreseeing from the notorious cruelty of the general that Menda would perhaps be committed to the flames and the inhabitants put to the sword, proposed to denounce themselves to the general. He accepted their offer, on condition that the inmates of the castle, from the humblest serving-man to the Marquis, should be delivered into his hands. This capitulation having been agreed to, the general promised to show mercy to the rest of the inhabitants, and to prevent his soldiers from pillaging or setting fire to the town. An enormous fine was imposed, and the richest inhabitants gave themselves up as prisoners to guarantee its payment, which had to be effected within twenty-four hours.
The general took all precautions necessary for the safety of his troops, saw to the defence of the district, and refused to billet his soldiers. After seeing them encamped, he went up to the castle, and took it into military occupation. The members of the Leganés family and the domestics were kept carefully under observation, bound, and shut up in the hall where the dance had taken place. From the windows of this apartment the terrace, which commanded the town, could easily be seen. The staff took up its quarters in an adjoining gallery, where the general at once held a council upon the measures to be taken to oppose the disembarkation. After having dispatched an aide-de-camp to Marshal Ney, and ordered batteries to be established on the coast, the general and his staff proceeded to deal with the prisoners. Two hundred Spaniards whom the inhabitants had surrendered were shot out of hand on the terrace. After this military execution, the general ordered as many gallows to be erected as there were persons in the hall of the castle, and the town executioner to be sent for. Victor Marchand took advantage of the time until dinner to visit the prisoners. He was not long in returning to the general.
“I come,” he said with emotion, “to ask you some favours.”