I cannot describe the enthusiasm that fired my mind at the sight of Cadiz. As soon as I had a moment to myself—as soon, that is to say, as my master was fairly settled in his cousin’s house—I went out into the streets and ran to and fro without any fixed destination, intoxicated as it were by the atmosphere of my beloved native city. After so long an absence all I saw attracted my attention as though it were something new and beautiful. In how many of the passers-by did I recognize a familiar face? everything charmed me and appealed to my feelings—men, women, old folks, children—the dogs, nay the houses even; for my youthful imagination discovered in each a personal and living individuality; I felt towards them as towards intelligent creatures; they seemed to me to express, like all else, their satisfaction at seeing me, and to wear, in their balconies and windows, the expression of gay and cheerful faces. In short my spirit saw its own gladness reflected in every surrounding object.

I hurried through the streets with eager curiosity, as if I wanted to see them all at once. In the Plaza San Juan I bought a handful of sweetmeats, less for the satisfaction of eating them than for that of introducing myself under a new aspect to the sellers, whom I addressed as an old friend; some of them with gratitude as having been kind to me in my former misery and others as victims, not yet indemnified, to my childish propensity for pillage. Most of them did not remember me; some, however, received me with abusive language, bringing up the deeds of my youth against me and making ironical remarks on my new fit-out and the dignity of my appearance, reducing me to flight as quickly as possible and damaging my appearance by pelting me with the rind or husks of fruit, flung by skilful hands at my new clothes. However, as I was fully convinced of my own importance, these insults increased my pride more than they hurt my feelings.

Then I went to the ramparts, and counted all the ships at anchor within sight. I spoke to several sailors that I met, telling them that I too was about to join the fleet, and asking them with eager emphasis whether they had seen Nelson’s fleet; and then I assured them that Monsieur Corneta was no better than a coward and that the impending fight would be a grand affair. At last I reached the creek and there my delight knew no bounds. I went down to the shore and, taking off my shoes, I leaped from rock to rock; I sought out my old comrades of both sexes but I found only a few, some who were now men had taken to some better mode of living, others had been impressed into the ships, and those who were left hardly recognized me. The undulating motion of the water excited my very senses; I could not resist the temptation—urged by the mysterious spell of the sea whose eloquent murmurs have always sounded to me—I know not why—like a voice inviting me to happiness or calling me with imperious threats to rave and storm. I stripped myself as quick as thought and threw myself into the water as if I were flying to the arms of a lover. I swam about for more than an hour, happy beyond all words, and then, having dressed myself, I continued my walk to the purlieus of la ViÑa where, in the taverns, I came across some of the most famous rascals of my young days. In talking with them I gave myself out to be a man of position, and as such, I wasted the few cuartos I possessed in treating them. I asked after my uncle but no one could give me any news of that gentleman, and after we had chatted for awhile they made me drink a glass of brandy which instantly went to my head and lay me prone on the floor. During the crisis of my intoxication I thought the scoundrels were laughing at me to their hearts’ content; but as soon as I recovered a little I sneaked out of the tavern much ashamed of myself. I still had some difficulty in walking; I had to go by my own old home and there, at the door, I saw a coarse-looking woman frying blood and tripe. Much touched by recognizing the home of my childhood I could not help bursting into tears and the heartless woman, seeing this, took it for granted it was some jest or trick to enable me to steal her unsavory mess. However, I was able to take to my heels and so escape her clutches, postponing the expression of my emotion till a more favorable opportunity.

After this I thought I should like to see the old Cathedral, with which the tenderest memory of my childhood was inseparably linked, and I went into it; the interior seemed to me most beautiful; never have I felt a deeper impulse of religious veneration in any church. It gave me a passionate desire to pray, and I did in fact throw myself on my knees, before the very altar where my mother had offered an ex-voto for my escape from death. The waxen image which I believed to be an exact likeness of myself was still in its place which it filled with all the solemnity of sanctity, but it struck me as very like a chestnut-husk. And yet this trumpery doll, the symbol of piety and maternal devotion, filled me with tender respect. I said my prayers on my knees, in memory of my good mother’s sufferings and death, and trying to realize that she was now happy in Heaven; but as my head was not yet very clear of the fumes of that accursed brandy, I stumbled and fell as I rose from my knees and an indignant sacristan turned me out into the street. A few steps took me back to the Calle del Fideo, where we were staying, and my master scolded me for being so long absent. If DoÑa Francisca had been cognizant of my fault I should not have escaped a sound drubbing, but my master was merciful and never beat me, perhaps because his conscience told him he was as much a child as I was.

We were staying at Cadiz in the house of a cousin of my master; and the reader must allow me to describe this lady somewhat fully, for she was a character deserving to be studied. DoÑa Flora de Cisniega was an old woman who still pretended to be young. She was certainly past fifty, but she practised every art that might deceive the world into believing her not more than half that terrible age. As to describing how she contrived to ally science and art to attain her object—that would be an undertaking far beyond my slender powers. The enumeration of the curls and plaits, bows and ends, powders, rouges, washes and other extraneous matters which she employed in effecting this monumental work of restoration, would exhaust the most vivid fancy; such things may be left to the indefatigable pen of the novelist—this, being History, deals only with great subjects and cannot meddle with those elegant mysteries. As far as her appearance was concerned what I remember best was the composition of her face, which all the painters of the Academy seemed to have touched up with rose color; I remember too that when she spoke she moved her lips with a grimace, a mincing prudery which was intended either to diminish the width of a very wide mouth, or to conceal the gaps in her teeth from whose ranks one or two proved deserters every year; but this elaborate attempt was so far a failure that it made her uglier rather than better looking. She was always richly drest, with pounds of powder in her hair, and as she was plump and fair—to judge from what was visible through her open tucker, or under the transparency of gauze and muslin—her best chance lay in the display of such charms as are least exposed to the injurious inroads of time, an art in which she certainly was marvellously successful.

DoÑa Flora was devoted to everything antiquated, and much addicted to piety, but not with the genuine devoutness of DoÑa Francisca; indeed she was in everything diametrically the opposite of my mistress; for while DoÑa Francisca hated even the glory that was won at sea, she was an enthusiastic admirer of all fighting-men and of the navy in particular. Fired by patriotic passion—since at her mature age she could not hope to feel the flame of any other—and intensely proud of herself as a woman and as a Spaniard, love of her country was symbolized in her mind by the roar of cannon, and she thought the greatness of a nation was measured by tons of gunpowder. Having no children her time was spent in gossip, picked up and passed round in a small circle of neighbors by two or three chatterboxes like herself; but she also amused herself by her indefatigable mania for discussing public affairs. At that time there were no newspapers, and political theories, like public news, were passed on from mouth to mouth, these being even more falsified then than now, in proportion as talk is less trustworthy even than print. In all the large towns, and particularly in Cadiz, which was one of the foremost cities of Spain, there were a number of idle persons who made it their business always to have the latest news from Madrid and Paris, and to be diligent in distributing it, priding themselves, in fact, on a mission which gained them so much consideration. Some of these newsmongers would meet in the evening at DoÑa Flora’s house, and this, seconded by excellent chocolate and still better cakes, attracted others eager to learn what was going on. DoÑa Flora, knowing that she could not hope to inspire a tender feeling or be quit of the burthen of her fifty years, would not have exchanged the part she was thus enabled to play for any other that could have been offered to her; for, at that time, to be the centre to which all news was conveyed was almost as precious a distinction as the majesty of a throne. DoÑa Flora and DoÑa Francisca could never get on together, as may easily be supposed when we consider the enthusiastic military tastes of one, and the pacific timidity of the other. Thus, speaking to Don Alonso the day we arrived, the good lady said:

“If you had always listened to your wife you might have been a common sailor to this day. What a woman! If I were a man and married to such a wife I should burst up like a bomb-shell. You did very rightly not to follow her advice but to come to join the fleet. Why you are not an old man yet, Alonsito; you may still rise to the rank of commodore, which you would have been sure of if Paca had not clipped your wings, as we do to chickens to prevent their straying.”

When, presently, my master’s eager curiosity made him press her for the latest news, she went on:

“The most important news is that all the naval men here are extremely dissatisfied with the French Admiral, who displayed his incapacity in the expedition to Martinique and the fight off Finisterre. He is so timid and so mortally afraid of the English that, when the combined fleets ran in here last August, he dared not seize the cruisers commanded by Collingwood though they were but three ships in all. All our officers are greatly disgusted at finding themselves obliged to serve under such a man; indeed Gravina went to Madrid to tell Godoy so, foreseeing some terrible disaster if the command were not placed in more able hands; but the minister gave him some vague answer as to why he could not venture to decide in the matter, and as Buonaparte is in Germany, dealing with the Austrians, he cannot be appealed to.—But it is said that he too is dissatisfied with Villeneuve and has determined to dismiss him; but meanwhile.... If only Napoleon would put the whole fleet under the command of some Spaniard—you, for instance, Alonso—promoting you at once as I am sure you richly deserve....”

“Oh! I am not fit for it!” replied my master, with his habitual modesty.

“Well, to Gravina, or to Churruca, who is said to be a very first-rate sailor. If not I am afraid mischief will come of it. You cannot see the French from here; only think, when Villeneuve’s ships arrived they were short of victuals and ammunition, and the authorities here did not care to supply them out of the arsenal. They forwarded a complaint to Madrid, and as Godoy’s one idea is to do what the French ambassador M. de Bernouville asks him, he sent orders that our allies should have as much of everything as they required. But this had no effect. The commandant of the navy yard and the commissary of the ordnance stores declared they would deliver nothing to Villeneuve till he paid for it money down and in hard cash. This seems to me very right and fair. The last misfortune that could come upon us was that these fine gentlemen should take possession of the little we had left! Pretty times we live in! Everything is ruinously dear, and yellow fever on one side and hard times on the other had brought Andalusia to such a state that she was not worth a doit—and now, to that you add all the miseries of war. Of course the honor of the nation is the first thing and we must go on now to avenge the insults we have received. I do not want to go back to the fight of Finisterre where, through the meanness of our allies, we lost the Firme and the Rafael, two splendid ships—nor of the piratical seizure of the Real CÁrlos, which was such an act of treachery that the Barbary pirates would have been disgraced by it—nor of the plunder of the four frigates—nor of the battle off Cape St. ...”

“That was the thing,” interrupted my master eagerly. “Every man must keep his own place, but if Admiral CÓrdova had given the word to tack....”

“Yes, yes—I know,” exclaimed DoÑa Flora, who had heard the story a hundred times before. “We must positively give them a thorough beating and we will. You, I know, are going to cover yourself with glory. It will enfuriate Paca.”

“I am of no use for fighting,” said my master sadly. “I am only going to look on, for sheer love of it and devotion to the Spanish flag.”

The day after our arrival my master received a visit from a naval officer, an old friend of his, whose face I can never forget though I saw him but that once. He was a man of about five and forty, with a really beautiful and gentle face and an expression of such tender melancholy that to see him was to love him. He wore no wig, but his abundant hair, untortured by the barber into the fashionable ailes de pigeon, was carelessly tied into a thick pigtail and heavily powdered, though with less elaborate care than was usual at that time. His eyes were large and blue, his nose finely chiselled, perfect in outline, rather wide, but not so wide as to disfigure him—on the contrary, it seemed to give distinction to his expressive countenance. His chin, which was carefully shaved, was somewhat pointed, and added to the melancholy charm of an oval face which was indicative of delicate feeling rather than of energetic determination. This noble exterior was well matched by the elegance of his manners—a grave courtesy of which the fatuous airs of the men of the present day retain no trace, any more than the modish graces of our jeunesse dorÉe. His figure was small, slight and even sickly looking. He looked more like a scholar than a warrior, and a brow, behind which lofty and subtle thoughts must have lain hid, looked ill-fitted to defy the horrors of battle. His fragile form, inhabited by a soul so far above the common, looked as though it must succumb to the first shock. And yet—as I afterwards learnt—this man’s heart was as brave as his intellect was supreme. It was Churruca.

Our hero’s uniform, though it was not in holes nor threadbare, bore the marks of long and honorable service; afterwards, when I heard it authoritatively stated that the Government owed him nine quarters’ pay, I could account for this dilapidated appearance. My master asked after his wife, and I gathered from the answer that he was only lately married, which filled me with pity; it seemed to me so terrible a thing to be dragged off to battle in the midst of so much happiness. Then they talked of his ship, the San Juan Nepomuceno, which he seemed to love as much as his young wife; for, as was well known, he had had it planned and fitted to his own taste, under a special privilege, and had made it one of the finest ships in the Spanish fleet. Then of course they discussed the absorbing subject of the day: whether the squadrons would or would not put out to sea and the Commodore expressed his opinion at much length, in very much such words as these; for their substance had always remained in my memory so that now, by the help of dates and historical records, I can reconstruct his speech with considerable accuracy.

“The French admiral,” said Churruca, “not knowing what course to pursue and being anxious to do something which might cast his errors into oblivion, has, ever since we arrived, manifested an inclination to go and seek the English. On the 8th of October he wrote to Gravina, saying that he wished to hold a council of war on board the Bucentaure (Villeneuve’s ship) to agree on the best course of action. Gravina went to the council, taking with him the Vice-Admiral Alava, Rear-Admirals EscaÑo and Cisneros, Commodore Galiano and myself. Of the French there were present Rear-Admirals Dumanoir and Magon and Captains Cosmas, Maistral, Villiegries, and Prigmy.

“Villeneuve having expressed his wish to go out to sea, we Spaniards unanimously opposed it. The discussion was warm and eager, and AlcalÁ Galiano and Magon exchanged such hard words that it must have come to a duel if we had not intervened to pacify them. Our opposition greatly annoyed Villeneuve, and in the heat of argument he even threw out certain insolent hints to which Gravina promptly retorted.—And indeed these worthies display a curious anxiety to go forth to seek a powerful foe, considering that they forsook us at the battle off Cape Finisterre, depriving us of what would have been a victory if they had seconded us in time. But there are many reasons, which I fully explained to the council—such as the advanced season, which render it far more advantageous for us to remain in the bay, forcing them to form a blockade which they cannot maintain, particularly if at the same time they blockade Toulon and Cartagena. We cannot but admit the superiority of the English navy, as to the completeness of their armament, their ample supply of ammunition, and, above all, the unanimity with which they manoeuvre.

“We—manned for the most part with less experienced crews, inadequately armed and provided, and commanded by a leader who dissatisfies everyone—might nevertheless act to advantage on the defensive, inside the bay. But we shall be forced to obey, to succumb to the blind submission of the ministry at Madrid and put our vessels and men at the mercy of Buonaparte, who, in return for this servility has certainly not given us a chief worthy of so much sacrifice. We must go if Villeneuve orders it, but if the result is a disaster our opposition to his insane resolution stands on record as our acquittal. Villeneuve in fact is desperate; his sovereign has used harsh language to him, and the warning that he will be degraded from his command is prompting him to the maddest acts, in the hope of recovering his tarnished reputation, in a single day, by death or victory.”

So spoke my master’s friend. His words impressed me deeply; child as I still was, I took an eager interest in the events going on around me, and since—reading in history all the facts to which I was then witness, I have been able to aid my memory by authenticated dates so that I can tell my story with considerable accuracy.

When Churruca left us, DoÑa Flora and my master sang his praises in the warmest terms; praising him especially for the expedition he had conducted to Central America to make charts of those seas. According to them Churruca’s merits as a navigator and a man of learning were such that Napoleon himself had made him a magnificent present and heaped civilities upon him. But we will leave the sailor and return to DoÑa Flora.

By the end of the second day of our stay in her house I became aware of a phenomenon which disgusted me beyond measure, which was that my master’s cousin seemed quite to fall in love with me; that is to say, that she took it into her head that I was made to be her page. She never ceased to load me with every sort of kindness, and on hearing that I too was to join the fleet she bewailed herself greatly, swearing that it would be a pity if I should lose an arm or a leg, or even some less important part of my person—even if I escaped with my life. Such unpatriotic pity roused my indignation, and I believe I even went so far as to declare, in so many words, that I was on fire with warlike ardor. My gasconade delighted the old lady and she gave me a heap of sweetmeats to recover her place in my good graces.

The next day she made me clean her parrot’s cage—a most shrewd bird that talked like a preacher and woke us at all hours of the morning by shrieking “perro inglÉs!”—(dog of an Englishman.) Then she took me to mass with her, desiring me to carry her stool, and in church she was incessantly looking round to see if I were there. Afterwards she kept me to look on while her hair was dressed—an operation that filled me with dismay as I saw the catafalque of curls and puffs that the hair-dresser piled on her head. Observing the stupid astonishment with which I watched the skilful manipulation of this artist—a perfect architect of head-pieces—DoÑa Flora laughed very heartily, and assured me that I should do better to remain with her as her page than to join the fleet, adding that I ought to learn to dress her hair, and by acquiring the higher branches of the art I might earn my living and make a figure in the world. Such a prospect, however, had nothing seductive to my fancy, and I told her, somewhat roughly, that I would rather be a soldier than a hair-dresser. This pleased her mightily and as I was giving up the comb for something more patriotic and military she was more affectionate than ever. But notwithstanding that I was treated here with so much indulgence, I must confess that the lady annoyed me beyond measure, and that I really preferred the angry cuffing and slapping of DoÑa Francisca to DoÑa Flora’s mawkish attentions. This was very natural; for her ill-timed caresses, her prudery, the persistency with which she invited my presence, declaring that she was delighted with me and my conversation, prevented my going with my master on his visits to the different ships. A servant of the house accompanied him on these delightful expeditions, while I, deprived of the liberty to run about Cadiz as I longed to be doing, was left at home, sick of life, in the society of DoÑa Flora’s parrot and of the gentlemen who came every evening to announce whether or no the fleets would quit the bay, with other matters less to the purpose and far more trivial. My vexation rose to desperation when I saw Marcial come to the house, and he and my master went out together, though not to embark finally; and when, after seeing them start, my forlorn spirit lost the last faint hope of being one of the party, DoÑa Flora took it into her head that she must have me to walk with her to the Alameda and then to church to attend vespers. This was more than I could bear and I began to dream of the possibility of putting a bold scheme into execution; of going, namely, on my own account to see one of the ships, hoping that, on the quay, I might meet some sailor of my acquaintance who would be persuaded to take me.

I went out with the old lady and as we went along the ramparts I tried to linger to look at the ships, but I could not abandon myself to the enjoyment of the spectacle for I had to answer the hundred questions with which DoÑa Flora persistently persecuted me. In the course of our walk we were joined by some young men and a few older ones. They all seemed very conceited, and were the most fashionable men of Cadiz, all extremely witty and elegantly dressed. Some of them were poets, or—to be accurate—wrote verses though sorry ones, and I fancied I heard them talking of some Academy where they met to fire shots at each other in rhyme, an amusement which could break no bones.

As I observed all that was going on round me, their extraordinary appearance fixed my attention—their effeminate gestures and, above all, their clothes, which to me looked preposterous. There were not many persons who dressed in this style in Cadiz; and, reflecting afterwards on the difference between their costume and the ordinary clothes of the people I was in the habit of seeing, I understood that it was that men in general wore the Spanish habit while DoÑa Flora’s friends followed the fashions of Madrid or of Paris. The first thing to attract my attention were their walking-sticks, which were twisted and knotted cudgels, with enormous knobs. Their chins were invisible, being hidden by the cravat, a kind of shawl wrapped round and round the throat and brought across below the lips so as to form a protuberance—a basket, a dish, or, better still, a barber’s basin—in which the chin was quite lost. Their hair was dressed with elaborate disorder, looking as if it had been done with a birch-broom rather than with a comb. The corners of their hats came down to their shoulders; their coats, extremely short-waisted, almost swept the ground with their skirts; their boots were pointed at the toes; dozens of seals and trinkets hung from their waistcoat pockets; their breeches, which were striped, were fastened at the knee with a wide ribbon, and to put the finishing stroke to these figures of fun, each carried an eye-glass which, in the course of conversation, was constantly applied to the right eye, half-closing the left, though they would have seen perfectly well by using both.

The conversation of these gentlemen, also, turned on the plans of the fleet, but they varied it by discussing some ball or entertainment which they talked of a great deal, and one of them was the object of the greatest admiration for the perfection with which he cut capers, and the lightness of his heels in dancing the gavotte.

After chattering for some time the whole party followed DoÑa Flora into the church del CÁrmen, and there, each one pulling out a rosary, they remained praying with much energy for some little time, and one of them, I remember, gave me a smart rap on the top of my head because, instead of attending devoutly to my prayers like them, I was paying too much attention to two flies that were buzzing round the topmost curl of DoÑa Flora’s structure of hair. After listening to a tiresome sermon, which they praised as a magnificent oration, we went out again, and resumed our promenade; the chat was soon more lively than ever; for we were joined by some other ladies dressed in the same style and among them all there was such a noisy hubbub of compliments, fine speeches, and witticisms, with here and there an insipid epigram, that I could gather nothing from it all.

And all this time Marcial and my dear master were arranging the day and hour when they should embark! While I was perhaps doomed to remain on shore to gratify the whims of this old woman whom I positively loathed, with her odious petting! Would you believe that that very evening she insisted on it that I must remain forever in her service? Would you believe that she declared that she was very fond of me, and in proof of the fact kissed me and fondled me, desiring me to be sure to tell no one? Horrible spite of fate! I could not help thinking what my feelings would have been if my young mistress had treated me in such a fashion. I was confused to the last degree; however, I told her that I wished to join the fleet, and that when I came back she might keep me if it was her fancy, but that if she did not allow me to have my wish I should hate her as much as that—and I spread my arms out wide to express the immensity of my aversion.

Then, as my master came in unexpectedly, I thought it a favorable opportunity for gaining my purpose by a sudden stroke of oratory which I had hastily prepared; I fell on my knees at his feet, declaring in pathetic accents, that if he did not take me on board with him I should fling myself into the sea in despair.

My master laughed at this performance and his cousin, pursing her lips, affected amusement with a grimace which made her sallow wrinkled face uglier than ever; but, finally, she consented. She gave me a heap of sweetmeats to eat on board, charged me to keep out of the way of danger, and did not say another word against my embarking, as we did very early next morning.