In New Granada; Or, Heroes and Patriots

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Can you say as much for your son?” remarked Don Cassiodoro. “Besides, you would have no opportunity of attending to your duties, as you would be immediately seized and sent to prison. General Calzada has been directed by Murillo to capture all suspected persons, and to forward them to Bogota for trial—and I may say, for execution. Be advised by me—remain in safety here. When you are not found at your house, it will be supposed that you have fled from the city, and the search after you will be relaxed.”

My father at length consented to follow the advice of Don Cassiodoro, who promised to keep him informed of all that was taking place. There was, however, a risk that the Spanish colonel, whose wound he had dressed, would inform against him. The only hope was, that the colonel, who was a stranger, did not know who he was, as he spoke Spanish like a native, and Don Cassiodoro had introduced him as his family physician, without mentioning his name.

I had, by my father’s directions, resumed my civilian dress, as had also Mr Laffan, who was, I should have said, at this time safe in our house. There was, however, much probability that the Spanish soldiers, on entering to plunder the house, might wantonly kill him, and burn it down.

That night, it may be supposed, was one of intense anxiety. We could gain no tidings of any of our friends, for had we gone out the danger would have been great, as the Spanish soldiers were ranging through the town, constantly firing at the windows of houses supposed to be inhabited by Patriots, and killing all the persons they met with in the streets. We were especially anxious about our uncle, Dr Cazalla, and also about Señor Monteverde and Dona Dolores. They had all been in the city on the previous day, and, we feared, could not have been warned of the entry of the Spaniards in sufficient time to make their escape.

All night long the sounds of shots were heard in different parts of the town, and fearful shrieks and cries arose as some of the unfortunate citizens were being dragged forth from their dwellings, including old men, women, and even little children, to be slaughtered by the savage soldiery; while here and there great sheets of flame shot up, showing that a number of houses had been set on fire. Such were the terrible scenes which took place, not only at Popayan, but in nearly all the principal towns of the province, when they fell into the hands of the Spaniards.

A guard had been placed at the door of Don Cassiodoro’s house by General Calzada, under the plea that a Spanish officer lay wounded within. The house was thus, indeed, safe from attack, but we were effectually prevented from going out to obtain intelligence.

Towards morning the trumpet sounding recalled the soldiers to their quarters, and we could distinctly see them crossing the square laden with plunder. The Spanish general, having frightened the inhabitants into something like submission, was now endeavouring to restore order among the troops. Had the Patriot army been near enough to enter the city during the night, they might have retaken it, and captured or destroyed every one of their enemies.

The next day the Spanish colonel, feeling himself very well—indeed, his wound was of the most trivial nature—desired to go forth, that he might visit the general and report his proceedings. Don Cassiodoro, who was anxious to get rid of him, did not object, and the colonel took his departure. As soon as he was gone, I begged that my father would allow me to go and learn what had become of Mr Laffan, Dr Cazalla, and other friends.

“But you will run a risk of being captured, if not of being injured or killed,” said my father.

I told Don Cassiodoro what I wished to do, and one of the young ladies suggested that I should put on the livery of a stable-boy who happened to have been sent away into the country sick some time before. I gladly accepted the proposal, and José’s dress being procured, I found that it fitted me exactly. Don Cassiodoro charged me to refrain from answering questions; but if pressed, I was to say I was one of his servants. It was proposed that I should wait until the evening, as there would be less risk of being recognised; but dressed as I was, I thought that no one could possibly know me: besides, poor Mr Laffan might in the meantime be starving. Before leaving, I filled my pockets with eatables, supposing it likely that all the provisions in the house had been carried away.