In New Granada; Or, Heroes and Patriots

by William Henry Giles Kingston

advance-guard of our force was nearly as far off on the other side. I waited for a moment longer, to judge whether, by the movements of the Spaniards, the latter had been seen; but I judged that they were concealed by the trees and rocks which lay between thorn, while they on their part had not discovered the enemy. The possession of the bridge was of the greatest importance, and I knew that the Spaniards, so soon as they should discover the Patriots, would make a rush down the hill to gain it. Partly hid as I was by the roof and railings of the bridge, I hoped that I had not been seen. To avoid the risk of being discovered, therefore, I slipped off my horse, and turning its head led it back until I got under shelter of some trees; when, mounting, I galloped as hard as I could until I met Uncle Richard, who instantly gave the word to advance at the double.

The Spaniards, who were already descending the hill, rushed down with headlong speed on discovering us, hoping to gain the bridge before our party had secured it. We at once dashed across to hold it against the Spanish advance-guard, which had nearly reached it. As the enemy saw us crossing they opened a hot fire, but, the distance being considerable, their bullets did no damage, and we were soon across without a casualty. Directly afterwards the head of our column appeared, and impetuously charged along the bridge. They came not a bit too soon, for already we were engaged with those of the Spaniards who had advanced ahead of their companions, whose numbers were every moment increasing, and who pressed us fearfully hard. In the meantime the Spanish troops, as they descended the hill, opened fire on our men,—those who were waiting to cross replying to it from the other side.

As I looked up the hill I feared, from the numbers descending, that we should be shot down before a sufficient number of the Patriots could cross to hold their own until our main body had got over. Our men, however, pressed forward and formed rapidly. In another minute we had secured our ground, and driven back the enemy a dozen yards or more, affording sufficient space for the main body to form up as they crossed. Several had been shot, and had fallen over into the torrent, which was already dyed with blood.

The order was now given to charge. The Spaniards, in their eagerness to reach the bridge, had been thrown into disorder as they descended the hill. Our left wheeled, turned their flank, and drove them down towards the river; while our right stood its ground. The contest was short, but sharp. In the course of a few minutes, it seemed, the larger number of the Spaniards were hurled over the cliffs; while the rest, in utter confusion, attempted to retreat up the hill, but were followed by our nimble-footed men, and cut down or bayoneted.

No victory could have been more complete. Not a Spaniard who was taken was allowed to live. Of the whole force, numbering some five or six hundred men, those only escaped who contrived to hide themselves in ditches or behind bushes or rocks, or whose activity enabled them to keep ahead of their pursuers. Our chief casualties had occurred while our men were crossing the bridge, but, in all, we had lost comparatively few.

The summit of the hill gained, we halted to reform our troops, and then once more advanced. Whether or not the Spaniards we had defeated were those who had attacked the fort, we could not tell, as not a prisoner had been saved. In vain did Uncle Richard call to his followers to spare the lives of those who yielded; his orders were not listened to. The men only followed the custom of that savage warfare, and the example of the Spaniards, upon whom they thus fearfully retaliated.

Once more we advanced. Another day passed; and it was late on the next before we reached the neighbourhood of the fort. I looked out eagerly to ascertain whether the besiegers were still before it, but as yet not a sign could I discover of the enemy. The hamlet occupied by the Spaniards appeared to be deserted. I now felt convinced that the body we had defeated was part of the force which had been besieging the fort, while the remainder had probably marched in an opposite direction. We had seen nothing of Captain Lopez, however, and he certainly was not with those Spaniards whom we had encountered.

Now came the question, What was the fate of the garrison? Had they been able to hold out until the Spaniards, growing weary of the attempt, had given it up? or had the fort been successfully assaulted, and its defenders cut to pieces? If so, the Spaniards must now have possession, and it would be our turn to attack them, and to attempt its recapture. This would not be so difficult a task to us as it had proved to the Spaniards, as Captain Laffan and I knew every point about it, and every spot from whence it was assailable.

The first thing to be done, however, was to make a reconnaissance; and Captain Laffan and I rode on for this purpose. With our glasses we saw from a distance that no flag was flying; and as we got nearer we discovered that the flagstaff itself was broken short off, and that the tower was fearfully shattered, while parts of the stockades were thrown down, and the whole fort seemed in the most dilapidated condition.

“A bad omen, that,” observed my companion; “but, at the same time, it may have been shot through, and a puff of wind have blown it down.”