Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
no peace, not even in my wife's smiles and evident content to be
anywhere with me.
I saw that the cattle were well cared for and that the men had both food
and wine. Then my servant skirmished around and decapitated sundry
chickens he found. So we had roast chicken three times a day, and as I
had a case of brandy in my luggage, we did not suffer. Nunn roasted the
chickens, made the punch, got the Spanish men and women to dance for our
entertainment, and made himself generally of service. About midnight the
storm broke up, and to my great satisfaction the stars came out. That
night I slept in the same room with the women, with a sheet hung between
us.
At 5 o'clock I had all hands up and breakfast under way. I ordered the
drivers and hangers on to have the teams hitched up and ready at
daylight. They all ate breakfast heartily enough, but were not zealous
about starting out. They made all sorts of pretexts and excuses to avoid
leaving their comfortable quarters. Certainly the road was not an
inviting prospect, there being quite eighteen inches of snow, but I was
determined to start one way or the other, either south with the party or
north alone. After long argument they, thinking they had me at their
mercy, refused to hitch up the cattle to make the attempt. I at once
paid and dismissed them all. Determining to set out immediately alone
for the French frontier, carrying only a small bag slung over my
shoulder, and concealing the bonds and paper money on my person, I would
leave the greater part of the gold in charge of my wife. I knew Nunn
would be a trusty guard to her.
I had not given her any intimation of my purpose, but got my bag ready,
and, secreting about me the bonds and paper money, I took my wife into a
room, and, first telling her she must be very brave, explained my plan,
pointing out I must not miss the Saturday steamer. She should follow on
the next, and I would leave her $20,000. But she pleaded to go with me,
said she would be no encumbrance, would ride mule-back to the railway,
no matter how far away. I then called Nunn and told him I should leave
him in charge of the baggage, and that we were going to set out at once.
I praised his fidelity, and informed him I would make him a present
when he arrived all safe in New York with the baggage. But when the sick
man and his family were told we were going they raised a howl. The women
all hung on me crying and imploring me not to leave them to despair and
death. They would all perish, etc.
I had secured a good saddle mule, but with a man's saddle, and my wife
was sensible enough not to make an outcry over the prospect of a ride
man-fashion. She came out warmly clad and mounted the mule, and I
strapped some rugs and a bundle of lunch behind the saddle. The owner of
the mule was at his head, halter in hand, ready to lead off. The entire
population were out staring open-mouthed. I delivered a speech to my
lucky-unlucky thirteen, telling them in the best way I could that I was
going in order to deliver them all over to the vengeance of the military
chief of the district. That I should accuse them as robbers and thieves,
and that they might look for anguish that would wring their hearts and
souls.
They were greatly moved, and, pulling out my watch, I informed them by
pantomime and bad Spanish that if they got the teams in harness and the
luggage all packed on the carts in twenty minutes I would take them into
my favor and resume our journey southward.
Spaniards are proverbially slow. But these Spaniards were not slow, and
a very few minutes saw us all once more mounted on our cart, with the
two baggage carts following, and on our rocky way southward.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FEAR SAYS "NO" TO HAPPINESS.
We passed during the day a military post and several squads of armed
men. Poor fellows! they were wretchedly equipped, so far as garments
went. They all examined us curiously, but did not offer to stop or
question us while I marched on ahead of the cavalcade like a drum major,
giving the military salute to each party as we passed. I ought to have
been fatigued, but I was not. After about five miles of uphill work we
began to descend. The road was a masterpiece of engineering, and well it
might be, for it was one of five military roads the great Napoleon
ordered to be constructed across the Pyrenees, and it was done in a
thoroughly workmanlike manner. It wound in and out and along defiles of
stern beauty.
We halted for rest and refreshment at noon, and again at 4 o'clock for
an hour. At the last place we found some Carlist officers, one a young
Englishman, who was a good fellow and most attentive. He was an
aide-de-camp on Don Carlos' staff. He told me there was no chance of his
side winning, but he was in it for the fun of the thing and in hope of
seeing some fighting. He had taken part in a number of skirmishes, and
was by no means satisfied yet. He volunteered to escort us through the
lines, and was evidently more than pleased to meet an English lady in
the person of my wife.
It was beautiful to see him order about my muleteers and bully them up
hill and down dale, not hesitating to use his whip on them. About 5
o'clock we started off in great shape, having some twenty miles to go to
the little town on the railway south of the Pyrenees. We had two
lanterns and a number of torches; it was a picturesque caravan in the
darkness. The young officer rode beside the first cart, conversing with
my wife, while I walked in the rear. We had reason to congratulate
ourselves over our escort, he being a brave and brilliant fellow and
evidently a person of importance. He little thought whom he was
escorting. I was pleased on my wife's account, as he was company for
her, and, altogether, she thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of the whole
situation.
We had made a fine bed of hay and blankets for our sick man.
Nevertheless, he was a source of much anxiety and trouble. At last, to
the intense relief of all, we heard far away the shrill whistle of a
locomotive. It was sweet music to my ears, for I realized the peril of
the delay. We had now arrived at the base of the southern slope of the
Pyrenees and the plain stretched out before us. We had just passed
through an intrenched camp that guarded the entrance to the valley. Our
escort had ridden ahead, and not satisfied with smoothing the way for
us, had turned out the guard to do us honor. We halted for a few
minutes, and several uniformed officers came forward and were introduced
to my wife and me. It was a picturesque scene. The mantle of snow
covering all, the strange-looking mountaineers, the eager-faced, boyish
officers--French, English, Austrian--all soldiers of fortune, who, in
the dearth of great wars, were seeking fame in the inglorious civil
contest; our torches casting fantastic shadows until the forest-covered
mountain, dark and frowning, though snow lay everywhere, seemed peopled
with hosts of men--all made a picture never to be forgotten by some of
the observers.
Another mile and our escort had to leave us, but the town, standing dark
against the snow, was in plain view. By his advice I went ahead on foot
with two men, in case any of "the enemy" were prowling around, but found
none until we arrived in the town; then a scene of great excitement to
the townspeople arose.
We were examined and cross-examined, and our statements taken down in
writing and sworn to by all hands. In the mean time I had made beds for
our sick man and the ladies in the waiting room of the station, and
about 2 o'clock I went to sleep. The station was fortified and full of
soldiers, but I did not care, being told the Madrid train would start at
daylight; if so, I would be in time for El Rey Felipe, and would be
sailing out of Cadiz harbor on Monday over the blue water, westward ho!
After a two hours' nap I was up, paid off my lucky thirteen, giving them
a present in addition to their due, with a written paper certifying that
they were honest and brave, and had delivered me and mine in safety.
The weather continued very cold, and when the train, consisting of two
passenger and one baggage car, arrived we found there were no heating
arrangements, and we shivered at the thought of an all-day's ride
without fire or heat across that windy plain. I determined to have a
compartment to ourselves, for my wife and I had not had a moment's
privacy since the smash-up of the train. So we fixed up a bed on the
floor of a compartment for our sick man, and I put his family in to look
out for him. When the train left we found ourselves, very much to our
satisfaction, alone. I had telegraphed ahead to Burges to have hot water
cases, then the only mode of heating cars in Europe, ready on our
arrival.
The engineer of our train was an Englishman. As it was so important that
I should not be delayed I gave him a sovereign and his stoker another,
and asked him as a favor to make time. He said he would and kept his
word. But arriving at Burgos we found that the train from Santander
going south was two hours late, so my wife and I started out to see the
famous town.
After a short view we made our way to the Cathedral, and it was a sight!
It is one of the many sacred edifices which the piety of former ages
bequeathed our own. One of these sacred buildings--like the Strasbourg
and Cologne Cathedrals, in the construction of which generation after
generation of pious souls--pious according to the fashion of their
times--had given their days to the building and decoration of the
cloister or church where their lives were lived, and all was done with
loving and patient care.
We in our day may sneer at the monks and brothers of the Dark Ages, but
in those times of rude violence all gentle hearted, scholarly souls
found in the sanctity and quiet of the cloister the only refuge open to
them, and they did good work, both in the domain of mind and in the
world of material things. Much that was "piety" and much that was
"faith" in their day is termed superstition in ours; but who will deny
that the simple piety and credulous faith of their day was a million
times better than the restless skepticism and sad unrest of ours?
At Burgos I tried to get an English paper, but none was to be had and no
one there had ever seen one.
But here some startling news came flashing over the wires. Nothing less
than that there had been a revolution at Madrid, the capital. Amadeo,
the lately elected king, had suddenly resigned, and a republic had been
proclaimed with Castelar at the head.
I began to see more and more what a fool I was to let myself be caught
at such a time in such a land, but still had so much confidence in my
good fortune that I felt I would be on time for the steamer on Monday.
It was now 3 o'clock Friday. We were all aboard for Madrid and just
pulling out of the station. We would be due there the next morning. From
Madrid to Cadiz there is only one through train in twenty-four hours,
and that leaves seven mornings a week; but, as it runs only fifteen
miles an hour, and is seldom on time at that, one must figure on taking
an entire twenty-four hours for the journey. Still, as we would be due
Saturday morning, I had a big margin for delay.
At last we were off. On the train and in every group we passed there
were signs of subdued excitement. Between Royalists and Republicans
sharp lines were evidently drawn which soon were to culminate in bloody
conflict.