“Artillery,” he said, without pausing for a moment in the act of deglutition, “is indispensable on board ships of war. What is a vessel without guns? But it is on land, Señor Don Alonso, that the marvellous results of that grand invention of the human mind are seen to the best advantage. During the war in Roussillon—you know of course that I took part in that campaign and that all our successes were due to my promptness in managing the artillery.—The battle of Mas Deu—: How do you suppose that was won? General Ricardos posted me on a hill with four pieces, ordering me not to fire till he sent the word of command. But I, not taking the same view of the case, kept quiet till a column of the French took up a position in front of me, in such a way as that my fire raked them from end to end. Now the French troops form in file with extraordinary precision. I took a very exact aim with one of my guns, covering the head of the foremost soldier.—Do you see? The file was wonderfully straight.—I fired, and the ball took off one hundred and forty-two heads Sir! and the rest did not fall only because the farther end of the line swerved a little. This produced the greatest consternation among the enemy, but as they did not understand my tactics and could not see me from where they stood, they sent up another column to attack our troops on my right, and that column shared the same fate, and another and another, till I had won the battle.”
“Well, señor, it was wonderful!” said my master, who, seeing the enormity of the lie, had no mind to trouble himself to contradict his friend.
“Then in the second campaign, under the command of the Conde de la Unión, we gave the republicans a very pretty lesson. The defence of Boulou was not successful because we ran short of ammunition; but in spite of that I did great damage by loading a gun with the keys of the church—however, they did not go far, and as a last and desperate resource I loaded the cannon with my own keys, my watch, my money, a few trifles I found in my pockets and, at last, with my decorations. The strange thing is that one of the crosses found its billet on the breast of a French general, to which it stuck as if it had been glued there and did him no harm whatever. He kept it, and when he went to Paris, the Convention condemned him to death or exile—I forget which—for having allowed himself to accept an order from the hand of an enemy.”
“The devil they did!” said my master, highly delighted with these audacious romances.
“When I was in England,” continued the old soldier, “you know of course, that I was sent for by the English to make improvements in their artillery—I dined every day with Pitt, with Burke, with Lord North, Lord Cornwallis, and other distinguished personages, who always called me ‘the amusing Spaniard.’ I remember that once, when I was at the Palace, they entreated me to show them what a bullfight was like and I had to throw my cloak over a chair and to prick it and kill it, which vastly diverted all the court, and especially King George III, who was very great friends with me, and was always saying that I must send to my country to fetch some good olive-trees. Oh! we were on the best terms possible. All his anxiety was that I should teach him a few words of Spanish, and above all some of our beautiful Andalusian—but he could never learn more than ‘otro toro’ (another bull) and ‘vengan esos cinco’ (that makes five), and he greeted me with these phrases every day when I went to breakfast with him off pescadillas2 and a few cañitas of Manzanilla.”
“That was what he took for breakfast?”
“That was what he preferred. I had some pescadillas bottled and brought from Cádiz. They kept very well by a recipe I invented and have at home.”
“Wonderful! And you succeeded in reforming the English artillery?” asked my master, encouraging him to go on for he was greatly amused.
“Perfectly. I invented a cannon which could never be fired, for all London, including the ministers and parliament, came to entreat me not to attempt it, because they feared that the explosion would throw down a number of houses.”
“So that the great gun has been laid aside and forgotten?”
“The Emperor of Russia wanted to buy it, but it was impossible to move it from the spot where it stood.”
“Then you surely can get us out of our present difficulties by inventing a cannon to destroy the whole English fleet at one discharge.”
“Yes,” replied Malespina. “I have been thinking of it, and I believe I may realize my idea. I will show you the calculations I have made, not only with regard to increasing the calibre of guns to a fabulous degree, but also for constructing armor plates to protect ships and bastions. It is the absorbing idea of my life.”
By this time the meal was ended. Marcial and I disposed of the fragments in less than no time, and we set out again; the Malespinas on horseback by the side of the chaise and we, as before, in the tumbledown vehicle. The effects of the dinner, and of the copious draughts of liquor with which he had moistened it, had stimulated the old gentleman’s inventive powers and he went on all the way, pouring out a flood of nonsense. The conversation returned to the subject with which it had begun, the war in Roussillon, and as Don José was preparing to relate fresh deeds of valor, my master, weary of so many falsehoods,
