It was about a month after the surprise of Morella, that General Cabañero, encouraged by the recent success of his party, eager for distinction, and perhaps jealous of Cabrera’s reputation, attempted the most daring and dashing enterprise of the whole war. He conceived the hope of capturing in one night, and with three thousand men, a fortress that had defended itself for two months against the best generals of Napoleon, backed by seventy thousand veterans, and a hundred pieces of artillery. The capital of Arragon, the heroic city of Saragossa, was the high game at which Cabañero ventured to fly. Had he succeeded, he would have commanded the Ebro and the communication between Navarre and Catalonia, and might have installed Don Carlos in the palace of Alonzo the Fifth, and of Ferdinand the Catholic. Making one march from Alloza, a distance of four-and-twenty hours, he arrived late at night in the environs of Saragossa. Provided with ladders by the owner of a neighbouring country-house, who was in his confidence, he caused a few soldiers to scale the wall, and open the gate of the Virgin de la Carmen, through which he marched. Some vivas given for Cabañero and Carlos Quinto roused the nearest inhabitants, and preserved the main guard from a surprise. Shots were fired, and the alarm spread. By this time Cabañero was far into the town, posting his battalions in the squares and open places. In every street the Carlist drums were beating, and several houses were broken open and entered. It was a terrible moment for the inhabitants of Saragossa. Startled from their sleep, without chiefs to direct or previous plan to guide them, none knew what measures to adopt. Some few ran to the public squares, and were taken prisoners; but the majority, recovering from their first panic, adopted the best and surest means of ridding the city of the unexpected foe. In an instant every window was thrown open, and bristled with the muskets of the national guards. They could not be confident of victory, for they were totally ignorant of the number of their enemies; but if the triumph was to be for the latter, the Sargossans were determined that it should cost them dear. When the much-wished-for daylight appeared, the battle ceased to be from the balconies; the nationals, and about two hundred soldiers of various regiments who happened to be in the town, descended to the streets, and after a sharp but short struggle, drove out the daring intruders. The loss of the Carlists was a thousand men, inclusive of seven hundred prisoners; that of the Saragossans amounted to about one hundred and twenty.
Various strange incidents occurred during this night-attack. A French writer who visited Arragon during the civil war, relates an anecdote of two drummers who came up with each other at midnight in the streets of Saragossa, both plying their sticks with extraordinary vigour, but to very different tunes.
“Why do you beat the chamade?” demanded one.
“Why do you beat to arms?” retorted the other.
“I obey my orders.”
“And I mine.”
At that moment a passing lantern lit up the Carlist boina of the one, and the blue national guard’s uniform of the other. The drummers stared at each other for a moment, and then, instead of drawing their swords and setting to, which one would have thought the most natural course to adopt, they continued their march side by side, each indulging in his own particular rub-a-dub. The rights of the sheepskin were mutually respected.
The results of Cabañero’s attack were a cross of honour conferred upon the national guards, who had made so gallant a defence, and the death of the governor, Esteller, who was assassinated by the populace two days afterwards. His conduct during the fight had been marked by extreme weakness, and even cowardice. He entirely lost his presence of mind, could give no orders, and remained shut up in his house in spite of all the efforts of his aides-de-camp and secretaries to get him out into the street. He would not even allow his servants and orderlies to fire from the balconies, and his windows were the only ones in Saragossa that continued closed during that eventful night. The next day he was imprisoned, and it was intended to bring him to trial; but on the following morning a mob composed of the lowest of the people repaired to his place of confinement, brought him out into the streets and there murdered him. At the time the delinquents remained unpunished, but seven years later, in 1845, the sons of Esteller revived the affair, and procured the condemnation to ten years’ galleys of one Chorizo, the leader of the marranos, or lazzaroni of Saragossa. Chorizo, literally Sausage, whose real name was Melchior Luna, was a butcher by trade, and a sort of popular demagogue amongst the lower orders of his fellow citizens. But according to Señor Cabello, his condemnation was unjust; and instead of sharing in the murder of Esteller, he had done his utmost to protect him, even risking his own life to save that of the unfortunate governor. After a lapse of seven years it was difficult to get at the real facts of the case; and the chief effect of the trial has been to publish the pusillanimity of General Esteller, concerning which the people of Saragossa had previously observed a generous silence.
On the 1st of October 1838, the Christino general Pardinas, with five battalions and a regiment of cavalry, encountered Cabrera near the town of Maella. The forces were about equal on either side, and at first the Christinos had the advantage. But Pardinas having thrown his left too forward, it was cut off and surrounded. Without waiting for help from the centre and right wing, the battalions fell into confusion and surrendered themselves prisoners, thereby grievously compromising the remainder of the division. Astounded at the sudden loss of one third of his force, Pardinas made desperate efforts to preserve order; but all was in vain, and his heroic efforts and example served but to procure him an honourable death, thereby saving him the pain of reporting the most unfortunate and disgraceful action of the whole war. More than three-fifths of the division were killed or taken prisoners. The fate of the latter could not be doubtful, for Cabrera was their captor. Whilst still on the field of battle, with the groans of the wounded and dying sounding in his ears, he sent an order to Major Espinosa to kill a number of dragoons of the regiment del Rey, whom he had made prisoners. Espinosa replied, that, the action once over, he had forgotten how to use his lance. Cabrera, however, had little difficulty in finding a more pliant agent. The unhappy dragoons were stripped naked and bayoneted: Espinosa was deprived of his command and of future opportunities of distinction. The same afternoon Cabrera shot twenty-seven wounded, in hospital at Maella. Amongst his prisoners were ninety-six sergeants. These he crammed into a dark and narrow dungeon, and after a few days, proposed to them to take service in the rebel army. They all refused, and one of them imprudently added, “Sooner die than serve with robbers.” These words were reported to Cabrera, and he sought to discover the man who had uttered them; but although the other ninety-four well knew who it was, no menaces could induce them to betray their comrade. Any one but Cabrera would have been touched by such courage and constancy, but he only found in it a pretext for murder. The ninety-six sergeants were shot at Horcayo. Similar enormities now followed in rapid succession; until the exasperation in Saragossa and Valencia became extreme, and the inhabitants tumultuously assembled, demanding reprisals. These it was not safe to refuse. General Mendez Vigo, commanding at Valencia, and who ventured to deny them, was shot in the streets. Juntas were formed, and Carlist prisoners were executed. One of these unfortunates, when marching to his doom, was heard to exclaim, “Not to the people of Valencia, but to the infamous Cabrera, do I ascribe my death.” There was a great outcry made at the time, especially by persons who knew nothing of the real facts of the case, concerning these reprisals, which were in fact unavoidable. Cabrera’s atrocities had reached such a pitch, that disaffection was widely spreading in Arragon and Valencia. The people, finding themselves constantly in mourning for the death of some near relative, murdered by his orders, murmured against the government which could not protect them, and accused their rulers of Carlism and treachery, of cowardice and indifference. There was danger, almost a certainty indeed, of an insurrection, in which every Carlist prisoner and a vast number of innocent persons would inevitably have been sacrificed. Cabrera would listen to no proposals for exchanges, but persisted in shooting all who fell into his hands. Without reckoning the innumerable captives dead from hunger and cruel treatment, or those murdered on the march and in the Carlist depots, but counting only such as were shot and stabbed before witnesses, Cabrera had killed, previously to his mother’s death, one hundred and eighty-one soldiers and nationals; and seven hundred and thirty subsequently to that event, and up to the 1st of November 1838. His subalterns had slain three hundred and seventy more, making a total of twelve hundred and eighty. Under these circumstances, there was nothing for it but a system of retaliation. This, General Van Halen and the juntas adopted, and after a very short time the good effect was manifest. The imprecations of the Carlist prisoners, and the murmurs of his party, reached the ears of Cabrera in tones so menacing, that he was compelled to listen. The treaty for exchange of prisoners and cessation of reprisals, signed by him and Van Halen, caused much discontent amongst the coffeehouse politicians of the Puerta del Sol; but those who had experience of the war, and who dwelt in its district, appreciated the firmness of the Christino general, as well as the docility and true dignity with which he signed the honourable name of a brave soldier beside that of the assassin Count of Morella.
Anticipating an attack upon the fort of Segura, to whose possession he attached great importance, Cabrera took measures for its defence. For this, if the inhabitants of the town did not unite in it, a very large garrison was necessary. Cabrera endeavoured, therefore, by great promises, to win over the townspeople, menacing them at the same time with the destruction of their town if they did not comply with his wishes. They held a meeting, and its result was a declaration that they would never take up arms against the Queen, and that sooner than do so, they would submit to be driven from their dwellings, and become wanderers in the woods. Cabrera took them at their word, and in a few days the plough might have passed over the site of Segura. The magnificent church, the public edifices, and three hundred and fifty houses, were razed to the ground. The castle alone was preserved. The inhabitants themselves had been compelled to accomplish the work of destruction; and when that was done, sixteen hundred men, women, and children emigrated to the neighbouring villages, or took shelter in the caves and hollows of the pine forests. In this circumstance, it is hard to say which is most striking, the barbarity of the destroyer, or the courageous patriotism of the victims. The expected siege of the castle soon followed, but the inclemency of the weather compelled Van Halen to raise it. He was removed from the command, and Nogueras, who was to succeed him, being attacked by illness, the army in Arragon remained for a while without a competent chief. Cabrera took advantage of this, prosecuted the war with great activity and vigour, and captured some fortified places. Amongst others, he laid siege to Montalban, which was desperately defended for fifty days. At the end of that time, the town being reduced to ruins, the garrison and inhabitants evacuated it, and retired to Saragossa. During the siege, there occurred a trait worthy of Cabrera. The medicines for the wounded being expended, the colonel of the national guards spoke from the walls to the Carlist general, and begged permission to send to the nearest village for a fresh supply. There were many wounded Carlists in the town hospital, and it was expected, therefore, that the request would be granted. Cabrera refused it, but, feigning compassion, advised Vicente to hoist a flag upon the hospital, that it might be respected by the besiegers’ artillery. The flag was hoisted, and instantly became a mark for every gun the Carlists had. In the course of that day, sixty-six shells fell into the hospital, killing many of the wounded, and, amongst others, thirteen Carlist prisoners. During this siege, a young woman, two-and-twenty years of age, Manuela Cirugeda by name, emulous of the example of the Maid of Saragossa, served as a national guard, and fought most valiantly, until incapacitated by illness, the result of her fatigues and exertions.