With Wellington in Spain: A Story of the PeninsulaBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
General
With Wellington in Spain: A Story of the Peninsula
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Juvenile fiction
"On them!" shouted the gallant Andrews. "Cut them down! Back with
them!"
He threw himself at the attackers, and the trooper with him. For a
minute perhaps there was a fierce scuffle, and then the two retired,
as their work was accomplished. Both the daring spirits who had
invaded the church had paid the penalty of their rashness and lay
dead upon the floor. But the others were by no means disheartened. It
appeared that a dozen or more had crept forward, and with loud shouts
they now rushed at the opening.
"Keep them off with the spears. Don't fire unless you are compelled,"
Tom ordered loudly. "We've shown them that we are ready for them, and
the less fuss we make about the matter the more they will fear us in
the future. Ah, here they come!"
By now a surging crowd had arrived outside the church, and once more
the scene of a little time before was repeated. Muskets and ancient
firearms were discharged from every point, and in the most haphazard
fashion. Indeed it may be said that in this respect the attackers
were as dangerous to one another as to the defenders of the church.
A hundred frenzied creatures hurled themselves into the doorway,
and for a while it looked as if they would sweep all before them.
But those deadly spears, harmless though they looked on a casual
inspection, did the work expected of them. Men were tossed back with
jagged wounds in the chest. Others were felled with blows over the
head, while in many instances the attackers were pushed away by sheer
strength. Then, at a signal from Tom, four of the defenders joined
Andrews and the sentry, each armed with sabres, and fell furiously
upon the mob. Shrieks filled the air; the maddened peasants dropped
their weapons and endeavoured to grapple with the soldiers. They bit
at the men and fought like fiends. Then some turned, pressing away
from the door, but only to be thrust forward again by the weight
of those behind them. It was a startled cry from someone in the
background which at length caused the mob to retire; a sudden panic
seemed to seize them and in a little while they were racing pell mell
from the building.
"Now go back to your corners and sleep," said Tom. "We have taught
them another lesson, and next time they will not be quite so bold.
Let us have a look at these fellows."
He took the torch and leaned over the two men who had been cut down
by Andrews and the trooper. They were powerful fellows, armed with
billhooks and had their boots thickly wrapped with straw so as to
deaden the sound of their coming.
"Put them outside," he ordered, "and to-morrow, at the first streak
of dawn, we will send out a party to remove the other bodies. We
may be cooped up here for a week, and things would then become
unpleasant. That reminds me; there's the question of food and water.
Well, that must settle itself; we'll wait for morning."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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