"Say, when you get there, that Castelguelfo is in league with Regnier,
has burned the grand bailiff, and hoisted the standard of Guiseppe of
Naples: cospetto! the cross of the iron crown will outweigh the star of
Constantine!"
"Success to the expedition, signori," said I, drinking to conceal my
anger and confusion. "Faith! this is quite a revival of that ancient
feud, of which the improvisatori sing so much."
"And long will they sing of the diabolical treachery of the Alfieri."
"Signor, I would gladly hear the relation."
"You shall, in a few words. You have heard of the famous fighting
Dominican Campanella, who, in 1590, raised the banner of revolt in the
Calabrias: my ancestor, Barone Amadeo, disgusted by Spanish misrule,
joined him with three hundred men-at-arms; but these were all defeated
and slaughtered by the followers of the then Visconte Santugo, on the
same field of Maida where you so lately vanquished Regnier. Then
commenced the quarrel between the Guelfi and the Alfieri; which, though
we never came to blows, has survived for two centuries, and has settled
down into coldness, mistrust, and jealousy, intriguing at court and
petty squabbling at home. We are old-fashioned people here; but France
holds out civilization and regeneration to us. Well, Messer Amadeo was
defeated, and Santugo gave his castle to the flames, so that the Wolf of
Amato might have nowhere to lay his head. An outcast, deserted by his
followers and abandoned by all, he wandered long in the wild forest of
St. Eufemio, until, reduced to the last extremities of hunger and
despair, he resolved to throw himself upon the generosity of his
triumphant enemy; and knocking at the gate of the castle of Santugo,
craved the insolent porter to admit him to the visconte's presence. He
was absent, fighting against Campanella; but Theodelinde of Bova, his
young wife, resided at the castle during his campaign.
"Gaunt, from long continued misery, overgrown with a mass of beard and
hair--clad in the skins of his namesake the wolf instead of the knightly
Milan steel, and grasping a knotted staff in lieu of the bright-bladed
falchion of Ferrara--Messer Amadeo had more the aspect of an ancient
satyr than a Neapolitan cavalier.
"'Madonna mia!" cried Theodelinde, with dismay, 'Who art thou?'
"'Signora, thou beholdest Guelfo, the persecuted lord of Amato, who is
come to cast himself at thy feet. My territories spread from the
Tyrrhene to the Adriatic Sea; they have passed away, my people are
destroyed, my castle is ruined, and I have nowhere to lay my head, save
in the grave. Though thy husband's foe, take pity upon me, gentle
signora! I am perishing with want; for the ban of God and the king are
upon me, and no man dares to give me a morsel of bread or a cup of
water.'
"Gentle in spirit, and milder in blood than our Italian dames,
Theodelinde came of an old Albanian race; and, moved with pity, wept to
behold a warrior of such high courage and birth reduced to such
exceeding misery. Enjoining her maidens to secrecy, she provided him
with food and raiment, and concerted means for his escape into Greece.
The unfortunate Amadeo was grateful, and, touched with her generosity,
swore on the cross that he would forgive the visconte for all the
persecutions to which he had subjected him. That night he retired to
rest in peace, beneath the roof of his deadliest enemy.
"Long exhaustion caused a deep slumber to sink upon his eyelids, and he
heard not the clang of hoofs and the clash of steel ringing in the wide
quadrangle, announcing that Santugo had returned, flushed with victory
and triumph; his sword reeking with the blood of the revolters.
Theodelinde rushed forth to meet her husband, and their meeting was one
of joy: her tears of happiness fell on the steel corslet of the stern
visconte, and he too rejoiced; for the Spanish king had promised to
bestow upon him all the possessions of Amadeo, if before the festival of
the Annunciation, which was but three days distant, he placed the Wolf's
head on the high altar of St. Eufemio.
"The gentle viscontessa knew not of this bloody compact; but presuming
on the joy and tenderness displayed by her husband, and shrinking from
aught that resembled duplicity, she led him to the chamber of Amadeo.
He was reposing on a stately couch, and fitfully the beams of the
night-lamp fell on his pale forehead and noble features. He started,
awoke, and saw--what? Theodelinde by his bed-side, with her stern
husband clad in complete armour. Santugo, his barred visor up, regarded
him with a lowering visage; while he grasped a heavy zagaglia, such as
our estradiots used of old, and which glittered deadly like the eyes of
him who held it. Then Theodelinde knew, by the glare of that terrible
eye, that Amadeo was lost, and she sank upon her knees.
"'Oh, pity him and spare him for my sake: spare him if you love me, my
husband.'
"But the ruthless Alfieri heard her not--saw her not: he beheld only the
aggrandisement of his power, and hearkened only to the whisperings of
avarice and enmity. Amadeo leaped up; but his foe was too swift for him.
Hurled with equal force and dexterity, the zagaglia flew hissing from
Santugo's hand, and its broad barbed head cleft the skull, and lay
quivering in the brain of Amadeo. Theodelinde sank down on the floor in
horror; while the visconte cut off the head with his poniard, and
knitting the locks to his baldrick, galloped to the church of St.
Eufemio, where he flung the gory trophy on the altar. The ghastly skull
remained there on a carved stone bracket, for half a century; until the
cathedral of St. Eufemio was destroyed, on the anniversary of the deed,
by the earthquake of 1638. Those who viewed its fall beheld a spectacle
which was beyond description terrible! The earth yawned, and the
stately church with its three tall taper spires; its pinnacles, rich
with gothic carving; its windows, sparkling with light and gorgeous with
tracery; its massive battlements and echoing aisles, sank slowly into
the flaming abyss,--down, down, until the gilded cross on the tallest
pinnacle vanished. Convents, stately palaces, and streets sank down
with it, and where St. Eufemio stood, there lay a vast black fetid lake,
rolling its dark sulphurous waves in the light of the summer moon. Ho!
ho! what a tomb for the skull of the Wolf!
"The Guelfi were landless outcasts, until, by the treaty of Utrecht, in
1713, Naples passed away from Spanish domination; and under Charles of
Parma, my father recovered the old possessions of our house: now, in
imitation of Amadeo, I am ready for revolt; and, with every chance of
success, to-morrow shall unroll the banner of Joseph of Naples, whom
Madonna bless! To-morrow, let the Alfieri and loyalists beware! I will
not spare even the linnet in the cage, or the dog that sleeps on the
hearth. Drink, Scarolla, to the Signora Bianca; who by to-morrow eve
will be hailed as thy gay capitanessa!"
But Scarolla heard him not: his head had fallen forward on his breast,
and long ere the host's story was concluded, he was snoring with the
force of a trombone.
*CHAPTER V.*
*HAPPINESS.*
By daybreak next morning we were clear of the castello; for we quitted
its walls while its ruffian inmates were buried in slumber. I was happy
when the ladies were mounted, and once more on the road; having been
under considerable apprehension for their safety: dreading, perhaps, our
detention as royalist prisoners in the barone's residence.
"A rough night the last for a march, signor," said I to Captain
Gismondo, whom we found parading the Calabri in the street of Amato.
"A tempest, signor! the blue glare of the lightning alone revealed to us
that foaming river which we forded, the water rising to our waist-belts;
and the rain that rushed down from heaven was every drop large enough to
beat in our drumheads."
Ordering the company to march by a solitary and long forgotten road,
towards St. Eufemio, I informed Gismondo and my fair charge of the
diabolical plan laid by the barone and his revolters to destroy the
villa, and assign the innocent Bianca to the wretch Scarolla as the
price of his co-operation. Her sisters shrieked with terror, and old
Battista gave me a stern smile while laying his hand on his sword.
"I know a path across the mountains, signor; I travelled it once to
Monteleone: my little daughter was with me then;" he sighed deeply. "By
Ave Maria this evening our good friends the Alfieri will have a hundred
and fifty bayonets at their disposal. Compagna! threes right, quick
march!" and we moved off with rapidity.
Marching by the most retired roads, we made a circuit among the
mountains to deceive the barone, if any of his scouts should have
followed us. The evening sun was casting the long shadows of the lofty
hills of Nicastro across the woods and valleys of St. Eufemio, the
waters of the bay were rolling in their usual varied tints of sparkling
blue, and the eve was so calm and still, that the dash of the lonely
breakers, as they flowed on the sandy beach, was heard many miles from
the shore; mingling with the solemn hymn of the Sicilian mariners, and
the crews of those picturesque feluccas which spread their striped
latteen sails to the breezes of the strait.
Leaving Gismondo with his company to follow, I pushed on with the ladies
at full gallop towards the villa: they were both expert horsewomen, and
quite outstripped me, as we flew along the sandy marino. Their merry
laughter and taunting cries of "Fi! fi! Signor Capitano," were very
galling to me; for I was considered the best horseman (except Lascelles)
on the Sicilian staff, and had twice won the regimental and brigade cup
at the Palermitan races.
"On my honour! ladies, if I held the reins of my brave English grey
instead of those of a chubby Calabrian horse, you would not have
distanced me thus," said I, when they halted to let me come up with
them.
The battery erected by the soldiers of Sir Louis de Watteville was now
abandoned and demolished; the cannon were away, and the platforms
overgrown with luxuriant grass. How stirringly my time had passed since
the morning when our army landed on the beach close by!
The moment we rode into the quadrangle of the villa, the clattering
hoofs roused the whole household, as the blast of a trumpet would have
done. To be brief: great was the joy diffused by our arrival. We
disturbed the old viscontessa from cards, with which she was rapidly
gaining from old Adriano all the ducats she had paid at confessional an
hour before for peccadilloes. The young visconte, pale and worn with
long illness of mind and body, received the trembling Francesca to his
arms as if she had been restored to him from the tomb. The Italians are
peculiarly exciteable, and his transports were wild in the extreme. He
had expected to behold his bride no more; and now she was hanging on his
bosom, free, happy, and more beautiful than ever. As I had long
foreseen, he placed in my hand that of his blushing cousin, Bianca;
while the venerable viscontessa wept and prayed with joy, scattered a
handful of cards and counters over us, in her confusion, and embraced us
by turns. The whole household, male and female, from Andronicus the
chasseur to the little ragazzo who turned the spits, joined in a general
chorus of joy; they commenced the furious tarantella in the quadrangle,
and the whole mansion rang with shouts: which were soon to be changed
for those of a less agreeable nature.
Around the white neck of Bianca, I threw the riband with the gold medal
presented to me by Cardinal York, whose kindness had restored Francesca
to light and life; and the sweet girl kissed it, promising to treasure
it for his sake and mine. She appeared so beautiful, so blooming and
happy, as she hung upon my shoulder in the recess of a lofty window,
with the light of the western sky streaming on her bright curls and
glittering dress; and Santugo seemed so much absorbed in the presence of
her sister, who was seated between him and his mother, with a hand
clasped fondly by each; that I was loath to disturb the happy group and
blight their general joy, by speaking of Guelfo: but the appearance of
Gismondo's company marching along the marino, and the advanced hour of
the evening, made it imperative that arrangements should be made for
fighting or flying. All changed colour when I mentioned Castelguelfo:
Santugo's brow grew black, and his mother burst into tears.
"O, Luigi! to remain would be madness, when Giacomo and all our people
are serving as soldiers at Reggio!" she exclaimed.
"It ill beseems you, signora, to counsel me to my dishonour;" replied
the fierce young man, with singular hauteur, while his lip quivered and
his dark eyes shone with fire. "Like all the family of Amato, Dionisio
is a coward at heart, and a rebel Buonapartist; and shall I, who am
esteemed among the bravest and most patriotic of our noblesse, fly
before a base leaguer with banditti? Never! With Gismondo's Calabri,
and the armed men I can collect on an hour's notice, to the last will I
defend my father-house; fighting from chamber to chamber and story to
story, and die rather than yield, even should Guelfo involve the whole
fabric in flames and destruction."
"Ammirando!" exclaimed Gismondo, entering, "you speak as I expected to
hear the son of my old comrade; whose honours you will never tarnish.
Courage, ladies! One hundred and fifty bayonets are here, under my
orders; and with Madonna's blessing, and our own hands, the Wolf may
fall into as great a snare as old Amadeo did in the days of poor
Campanella."
The viscontessa shuddered: but her son took down his sword from the
wall.
"Dundas," said he; "to you, who are a soldier of greater experience than
any here (not even excepting our old guerilla, Gismondo), I look
principally for advice during this night's uproar. Come, signor, leave
Bianca, and loosen your sabre in its sheath. Ladies, away to your
mandolins and embroidery, or to ave and credo; your presence alone
unmans me. Ola, Zaccheo! where the devil is my old courier tarrying
now? Bolt and barricade every door and window, and muster and arm the
valets. Even the little ragazzo must handle a musket to-night."
"Had we not better send a horseman to the Royal Reggitore of Nicastro
for aid?"
"An insolent Sicilian dog!" replied Santugo. "No, no; we must trust to
Heaven and our own bravery."
Land and ocean had grown dark, or what is deemed so in fair Ausonia.
The bright stars studding the whole firmament, and the pale silver moon
rising over the dark green ridges of the wooded hills, shed their mystic
light on cape and bay over Amato's frowning rocks and flowing river;
illuminating the tall round tower, the broad facade, and many arcades of
the Villa D'Alfieri, and bathing in silver the orange woods around it.
Before the hour of the projected attack, we had all prepared for
defence; and our arrangements had been made for a vigorous one: every
door, window, and aperture were strongly barred and barricaded; piles of
furniture, statues, cushions, ottomans, massive tomes from the library,
and everything suitable, were pressed into the service; forming barriers
in the passages and on stair-landings, in case of an assault. Ere
midnight tolled from the sonorous old clock in the quadrangle, all the
ladies and their attendants were stowed away in the attic story, and one
hundred and eighty men were stationed at the different posts assigned
them below. Gismondo commanded one wing of the mansion; his lieutenant
and Alfiero, two cavaliers of the House of Bisignano, the other; while
Santugo and myself occupied the centre.
The soldiers were so well posted, that the different approaches to the
villa were completely enfiladed; while that by the quadrangle would be
exposed to a deadly cross fire from fifty windows. In this order we
awaited the revolters.
On making my rounds, to see that all were on the alert, I visited the
ladies; who, in the attic story of the old round tower, were quite
secure from musketry. The old viscontessa was on her knees praying: she
had relinquished her cards for "The Litanies of our Blessed Lady;" and a
crowd of female domestics knelt around her. Bianca and her sisters were
clustered together, with arms entwined, like three beautiful graces; but
looking pale and terrified: awaiting the strife with beating hearts and
eyes suffused with tears.
"Dearest Claude!" said she whose gentle voice I loved best, "for God's
sake! O, for my sake! do not expose yourself heedlessly to danger."
"Courage, dear one," said I, putting an arm playfully round her; "we
must all fight like the Trojans of old. Think of what will be the fate
of us all--of yourself in particular--if Guelfo and his ruffian compeers
capture the villa to-night. If I can put a bullet into the head of this
new suitor, Scarolla--Tush, Bianca! ridiculous, is it not?" She made a
sickly attempt to smile, but bowed her head on my shoulder and wept. I
heard Santugo and his chasseur uttering my name, and calling aloud
through various parts of the mansion; but I was too agreeably occupied
to attend to them just then.
"Allerta!" cried Gismondo; and knowing the military warning, I hurried
away to the scene of action.
"See you the rascals, signor?" said he, pointing from a barricaded
window, to a dark mass moving along the distant roadway, and rapidly
debouching into the lawn. They marched in the full glare of the
moonlight, and the gleam of steel flashed incessantly from the shapeless
column. They carried two standards, and one was a tri-color.
"Some of those Jacobin dogs are the iron miners of Stilo: they have long
been stubborn traitors," said Santugo, in accents of rage.
"And bold Scarolla, so long the scourge of Frenchmen, why leagues he
with villains such as these?"
"You forgot, signor," replied the young lord, with a grim smile, "that
he is either to gain a noble bride, or an ounce bullet to-night."
*CHAPTER VI.*
*THE VILLA BESIEGED.*
"Trombadore, sound the alert!" cried I to the little Calabrian
trumpeter. The sharp blare of his brass instrument awoke every echo of
the great villa; there was a clatter of accoutrements, a clashing of
bayonets and buckles, a hum, and all became still as the grave. We now
heard the tread of the advancing force, which divided into two bodies;
one to assault the house in front, the other in flank. A red light shot
up between the trees of the avenue, as an earnest of what was to ensue:
the gate lodge had been given to the flames.
A steep sloping terrace, enclosed by a high balustrade, encircled the
whole villa: six iron wickets, leading to the lawn and garden, had been
well secured, and this outer defence formed our first barrier against
the foe; who advanced within a few yards of it, before I ordered the
trumpeter to sound again. At the first note, a volley, which the
assailants little expected, was poured upon them, throwing them into the
utmost confusion, and driving them back with slaughter. They replied
with promptitude, and poor old Gismondo fell dead by my side. My blood
now got heated in earnest!
"Bravissimo soldateria!" I cried to the Free Calabri, while brandishing
my sabre and hurrying from post to post to animate their resistance:
"level low, and fire where they are thickest!" The roar of the musketry
stirred all the echoes of the vast resounding building: its long
corridors, lofty saloons, and domed ceilings, gave back the reports with
redoubled force; every place was filled with smoke, without and within;
every window and aperture was streaked with fire, bristling with bright
steel bayonets, and swarming with dark fierce visages.
Our fire made frightful havoc among the revolters; who numbered above a
thousand, all keen for plunder, infuriated by unexpected opposition, and
maddened by wine drank in the various houses and cellars they had
pillaged on their march: their yells were like those of wild beasts or
savages.
The sbirri, or feudal gens-d'armes who wore the barone's livery, were
lost among the dense rabble of barefooted miners from Stilo, grim
charcoal-burners, and Scarolla's squalid banditti. A revolting array of
hideous faces I beheld moving beneath me in the moonlight; distorted by
every malignant and evil passion, and flushed with wine, fury, and
inborn ferocity. In the blaze of their brandished torches, glittered
weapons of every description, from the pike twelve feet long, to the
short spadetto and knife of Bastia. Onward they rushed, a mighty mass of
ferocity and filth; and again they were repulsed, leaving the quadrangle
strewn with killed and wounded.
"Viva Giuseppe! superba!" cried a shrill quavering voice: it was that of
the barone, whom we now saw heading a third attack in person; whilst a
strong party, making a lodgment under the portico, assailed the grand
entrance with crowbars and levers. The colonnade protected them from our
fire, and the massive frame-work of the door was fast yielding to the
blows of pickaxes and hammers with which the strong-armed miners
assailed it; whilst their courage increased, as the barrier gradually
gave way before their strenuous efforts. At last a tremendous shout
announced that an aperture was made; upon which I ordered the barricades
of the vestibule to be strengthened, and lined by a double rank of
soldiers, entrusting their command to the young Alfiero Caraffa.
The fire of the besiegers had now reduced our force to about eighty
effective men; and my anxiety for the safety of the villa and its
inmates increased with the wounds and deaths around me. The whole
terrace on the land-side was lined with marksmen, who knelt behind the
stone balusters, and fired between them with deadly precision at the
large upper windows; through which the white uniforms and gay trappings
of the Royal Calabrians were distinctly visible in the moonlight. I
dreaded the continuation of this deadly fire more than a close assault;
and to increase my anxiety, Andronicus, who acted as our commissary,
came with a most lugubrious visage to inform me that the ammunition was
becoming expended, and that the pouches of the Free Calabri were almost
empty.
"God! we are lost then!" I exclaimed: this information fell upon me like
a thunderbolt. I hurried to Santugo, whom I found kneeling, rifle in
hand, before a narrow loophole, endeavouring to discover the little
barone, the main-spring of this revolt; whom it was no easy task to
perceive, among such a rabble, although we heard his croaking voice and
chuckling laugh every moment.
"Superba! viva Giuseppe Buonaparte! _viva la Capitanessa Scarolla_!"
The banditti answered by a yell of delight. "On, on brave rogues;" he
added, "we will have two pieces of cannon here in an hour."
"Cannon!" I reiterated, and exchanged glances with Santugo. We were
both astounded by the intelligence.
"O, Claude!" said my friend, "I tremble only for my mother, for
Francesca and her sisters. For myself, per Baccho! you know I would
fight, without a tremor, till roof and rafters, column and cupola, fell
in ruins above me. Is all lost, then?'
"No," said I, speaking through my hand; for the noise of the conflict
was deafening; "we may save the villa yet, and all its inmates: but a
bold dash must be made. Look yonder! what see you?"
"I understand--the task is mine."
"Mine, rather."
"No, no, Signor Claude, I have Francesca at stake."
"And I, Bianca--we are equal."
"I care not. Ola, Andronicus! saddle my cavallo Barbero, and look well
to girth and holster--quick, away, Signor Greco!"
What we saw was the British fleet, consisting of a gigantic ship of the
line and three or four frigates and corvettes, standing slowly down the
Straits of the Pharo, and keeping close in shore; attracted, probably,
by the sound of the firing. I knew the flag-ship of Sir Sidney Smith,
by its old-fashioned poop-lantern; and my project was to despatch a
messenger on board, craving help. But how could one leave the villa? it
was environed on one side by surf and steep rocks, shelving down to a
whirlpool; on the other by fierce assailants who were merciless as the
yawning sea.
Desperate was the venture: but that it must be attempted, we knew was
imperative. A friendly contest ensued between us and the two Cavalieri
Caraffa; each insisting on being the executor of the dangerous service.
We contested the point so long, that it was at last referred to a throw
of dice: the lot fell on Luigi; who prepared at once for the deadly
mission, by divesting himself of his mantle, buttoning his short velvet
surtout closely about him, and taking in three holes of his sword belt;
while I hurriedly indited the following note to the admiral.
"VILLA D'ALFIERI. _Sept._ 20*th*, 1808.
"Sir,
"I have the honour to request that you will order as strong a detachment
of seamen or marines as you may deem necessary, to be landed at the
villa of the Alfieri, which is closely besieged by the Baron of
Castelguelfo, a Buonapartist, who is now at the head of a numerous force
of Italian rebels. To protect the loyal family of the bearer, the
Visconte di Santugo, I placed in the villa a company of the Free Corps,
and have already to regret the loss of Captain Battista Gismondo, and
nearly sixty rank and file. Our case is desperate. The villa will not
be tenable one hour longer, as the barone (whom Regnier has supplied
with all munition of war) is bringing two pieces of cannon against it,
and our cartridges are totally expended. I have the honour, &c. &c.
"CLAUDE DUNDAS,
Capt. 62d Regt."
Admiral Sir SIDNEY SMITH,
H.M. ship _Pompey_.
According to the fashion of many large Italian houses, the stables
formed a part of the principal building; and so in the present emergency
it was lucky that the horses were at hand. Santugo's black Barbary
horse, with its red quivering nostrils, eyes sparkling fire, and its
mane bristling at the noise of the musketry, was led by the Greek
chasseur through a long corridor to a saloon which overlooked the
grottoes by the sea-shore. The saddled steed was an unusual visitor in
that noble apartment; where statues, vases, pictures, and sofas, were
piled up in confusion to form barricades before six tall windows which
faced the straits. One was open, revealing the bright sky, the
sparkling sea, Sicilia's coast and the sailing fleet; while ten Calabri,
with their bayonets at the charge, stood by to guard the aperture.
The brave young noble mounted, and stooping as he passed out, guided his
horse along a ledge of slippery rock, and the casement was immediately
secured behind him. We watched him with equal anxiety and admiration,
as he rode along the perilous path, where one false step of the Barbary
would have plunged him in the whirlpool, which roared and sucked in the
foaming eddies, beneath the villa walls. The instant he passed the angle
of the building which was swept by the fire of the assailants, there
burst from them a simultaneous yell; which was answered by a shout of
reckless defiance from the daring Santugo, who driving spurs into his
fleet horse, compelled it to clear the high balustraded terrace by a
flying leap. Then his long sword flashed in the moonlight as he slashed
right and left, crying--"Viva Carolina! Ferdinando nostra e la Santa
Fede!" cutting his way through the yelling mass, escaping bullet and
steel as if he had a charmed life, he passed through them and was free;
and I had no doubt would gain the village (where the boats lay) safely
and rapidly.
Enraged at his escape, the revolters pressed on with renewed fury, but
changed their mode of attack. A cloud now passed over the moon
involving the scenery in comparative darkness; but it was soon to be
illuminated in a manner I little expected.
There flashed forth a sudden glare of light, revealing the sea of
ferocious visages and glancing arms of the enemy, the bloody terrace
heaped with dead, the dark arcades, carved cornices, and lofty portico
of the villa: a lurid glare shone over everything, and a man advanced to
the terrace holding aloft an Indian sky-rocket; a terrible species of
firework often used by the French. Its yellow blaze fell full upon the
face of the bearer, in whom I recognised the villainous engineer,
Navarre; I snatched a musket from the hand of a dead soldier, but ere it
was aimed the traitor had shot the fiery missile from his hand and
disappeared.
This terrible instrument of eastern warfare forced itself forward,
roaring and blazing towards the villa, and breaking through a window,
plunged about as if instinct with life, setting fire to everything
inflammatory within its reach. From its size and weight, and the
formation of its sides, which were bristling with spikes, it finally
stuck fast to the flooring of a room; where its power of combustion
increased every instant, and a succession of reports burst from it as
its fire-balls flew off in every direction. All fled in dismay, to
avoid being blown up by the sparks falling into their pouches, scorched
to death by remaining in its vicinity, shot by its bullets, or stabbed
by the spikes; which it shot forth incessantly, like quills from a
"fretful porcupine."
In vain I cried for water: no one heard me; the diabolical engine
bounded, roared, and hissed like a very devil, involving us in noisome
and suffocating smoke; and in three minutes the magnificent villa was in
flames, and its defenders paralysed.
"Superba!" cried the barone. "Viva Guiseppe!" and the triumphant yells
of his enraged followers redoubled. I turned to the Cavalieri Caraffa.
"Gentlemen, keep your soldiers at their posts to the last," said I,
"while I provide for the retreat of the ladies."
"How, signor?" asked Andronicus; "on every hand they environ us, save
the seaward; where a whirlpool--O, omnipotente!"
At that moment we heard the report of a cannon; a round shot passed
through the great door, demolishing in its passage a beautiful fountain
of marble and bronze, and the water flowed in a torrent over the
tessellated pavement, while musketry was discharged in quick succession
through the breach. To augment our distress, the barone's guns had come
up; and the triumphant cries, the ferocity and daring of the assailants
increased as the hot flames grew apace around us. Shrieks now burst
from the summit of the round tower: overwhelmed with anxiety and rage,
and faint with the heat and smoke of the fire-arms and conflagration, I
hurried up the great staircase to bring away the females, who could not
remain five minutes longer: but where or how I was to convey them,
Heaven only knew!
The moon, which had been obscured for some time, now shone forth with
renewed lustre; and I saw the sea brightening like a silver flood, as
the last clouds passed away from the shining orb. O, sight of joy!
Three large boats filled with marines and seamen were at that moment
pulled close under the rocks; to which they had advanced unseen by the
foe. The headmost had already disappeared in the sea grottoes; and I
heard the measured clank of the rowlocks, and saw the oar-blades of the
sternmost barge flash like blue fire as they were feathered in true
man-o'-war style. The boats shot under the rocks, like arrows: one
moment the glittering moon poured its cold light on the glazed caps and
bristling bayonets of the closely packed marines--on the bright
pike-heads, the gleaming cutlasses, and little tarpaulins of the
seamen--and the next, it shone on the lonely seething ocean.
"Saved, thank Heaven!" I exclaimed, rushing down the stair. "Bravo,
soldateria! fight on, brave Calabri, for aid is near. Hollo, Zaccheo!
throw open the windows to the back, and bring down the ladies before the
fire reaches the upper stories. Hollo, signor trombadore! sound the
_rally_, my brave little man!"
The poor boy was so terrified that his trumpet-call was only a feeble
squeak; but the survivors of the company, about fifty in number, rushed
from all quarters to the spot. A volley of musketry announced that our
marines had opened on the assailants.
"Let us sally out--away with the barricades!" cried Lieutenant Caraffa;
and we rushed forth with charged bayonets, eager to revenge the
slaughter and devastation of the night. The regular fire of a hundred
marines from the terrace--to which Santugo led them by a secret passage
from the grottoes below--threw the revolters into a panic; and their
discomfiture was completed by a strong detachment of seamen, headed by
Hanfield the gallant captain of the _Delight_, whom Sir Sidney had sent
in command of the expedition. Rushing over the lawn with a wild hurrah,
they fell slashing and thrusting with cutlass and pike among the
recoiling rabble of the barone; who, abandoning their two six-pounder
guns, fled, _en masse_, with rapidity: but fighting every step of the
way towards the mountains, and firing on us from behind every bush and
rock which afforded momentary concealment. In the pursuit I encountered
the formidable Scarolla, who fired both his pistols at me without
effect, as I rushed upon him with my sabre: clubbing his rifle, he swung
it round his head with a force sufficiently formidable; but watching an
opportunity when he overstruck himself, I sabred him above the left eye,
and beat him to the ground; when some of his followers made a rally and
carried him off.
"Viva Guiseppe!" cried a well-known voice close by me; and looking
round, I beheld the little author of all the mischief, struggling in the
grasp of a seaman; whom, by his embroidered anchors, I recognised as
boatswain of the _Delight_. He was not much taller than his antagonist,
the barone, but strong and thickset, with the chest and shoulders of an
ox; an ample sunburnt visage, surmounted by a little glazed hat, and
fringed by a circular beard of black wiry hair below, his cheek
distended by a quid, and an enormous pig-tail reaching below his
waist-belt, made him seem a very formidable antagonist to Guelfo; whom,
he had knocked down, and over whom he was flourishing his heavy cutlass,
squirting a little tobacco-juice into his eyes from time to time.
"Maladetto!" growled the Italian lord, "O, povero voi, Signor Marinero!"
"Avast, old Gingerbread! I speak none of your foreign lingos," replied
the boatswain.
Flushed with rage and disappointment, the barone struggled furiously
with his strong antagonist, who held him at arms' length, in doubt
whether to cleave him down or let him go; till Zaccheo, the Greek,
approached, and, ere I could interfere, ended the matter, by driving his
couteau-de-chasse through the heart of Guelfo, who expired without a
groan.
By daybreak, the fighting was over. A poor little midshipman and
several seamen were killed; a hundred of our mad assailants lay dead in
the quadrangle, and as many more round the terrace. In the villa, half
its garrison lay killed or wounded around the windows, from which the
flames and smoke rolled forth in mighty volumes; many were roasted or
consumed before we could remove them: poor old Gismondo with the rest.
Hanfield ordered his men to save the villa from further destruction; but
the flames had gathered such force, that for a time every effort seemed
fruitless. Assisted by three boats' crews from the flag-ship, they
pulled down a part of the mansion, and turned the water of the _jets
d'eau_ on the rest, to prevent the fire (which was confined to one wing)
from spreading to the main building. After an hour of toil and danger,
during which I worked away in my shirt-sleeves until I was as black as a
charcoal-burner, the flames were suppressed: but how changed was the
aspect of the once splendid villa!
One portion of the building was roofless and ruined: its lofty casements
shattered, its corbelled balconies, tall pillars, and rich Corinthian
entablatures, scorched by fire, and blackened by smoke; the ravaged
gardens and terraces were strewn with corpses, the halls, saloons, and
corridors, encumbered with the same ghastly objects, splashed with
blood, and filled with confusion and destruction; pier-glasses, vases,
and statues, were dashed to pieces, hangings and pictures rent and torn.
The quiet library and elegant boudoir rang with the cries of the
wounded, or the reckless merriment of the sailors, who caroused on the
richest wines. But Santugo looked around him with the most perfect
_sang froid_.
Twenty prisoners we had captured were sent over to Palermo, where they
expiated their revolt in the horrible dungeons of the Damusi,--the most
frightful perhaps in the world, where their bones are probably lying at
this hour.
*CHAPTER VII.*
*THE NUPTIALS.*
When the fight was over, the fire extinguished, and the dead all
interred, I repaired to the grotto, where the ladies and their
attendants were shivering with terror and the cold air of the sea, which
every instant threw a shower of sparkling spray into the damp vaults. A
statue to St. Hugh, before which three dim tapers were always burning,
gave a picturesque aspect to the natural grotto; and a rill of limpid
water, at which the saint had quenched his thirst, gurgled from the
rocks into a rich font of white marble. Around this little shrine the
females were clustered; and a cry burst from them when I approached in
my unseemly garb, spotted with blood, blackened by powder, smoke, and
toil, and plastered over with clay, as if I had been dipped in the
mud-baths of Abano.
The carriage was brought; the horses of the ladies were saddled, and
they left the half ruined villa with a strong escort, to take up a
temporary residence at the castle of Angistola, the property of the Duke
of Bagnara, near Pizzo. After seeing the remains of the Calabrian
company embarked for Messina in our gun-boats, I, accompanied by
Santugo, followed the ladies at full gallop; leaving the old chasseur to
act as commandant at the villa. I despatched a mounted servant to
Scylla, for some of my baggage; a suit of uniform especially, as my
harness was quite ridiculous in the gay _salons_ of the duchess.
At Angistola, the ladies soon recovered from their terror and fatigue:
the beauty of the scenery, where the steep Apennines sloped down to the
Gulf of St. Eufemio, covered with dark pines or orange trees, and the
deep-wooded dell through which the river wound, seemed gloomy, solemn,
and picturesque. The Duke of Bagnara held a military command at a
distance; but his fair duchessa, who was one of the reigning beauties of
the Sicilian Court, received us with every honour and kindness.
A few days after our arrival we had the castello filled with milliners
from Palermo, and the ladies were constantly clustered in deep
consultation around the duchess in her boudoir; the visconte was joyous
and gay--a fete was evidently approaching: he was about to espouse his
cousin, with all the splendour that wealth could yield, and the imposing
pomp of the Catholic Church impart; and (to be brief) I found myself on
the same happy footing with my dear little Bianca, without the
portentous question having been asked. It was all quite understood: we
had made no secret of our mutual attachment, which was revealed by every
gentle word and tender glance. Our marriage was the earnest wish of
Santugo and the vicontessa; and as for her principal relative, the
withered little Prince of St. Agata, as the girl was without a ducat, he
cared not a straw who became her husband.
The day before the auspicious one, old Fra Adriano came jogging up to
the castello on his ambling mule, in the execution of his office as
family confessor, to confess us all, according to the Italian custom,
before marriage. To this I objected, first with a joke, and then
gravely; much to the horror of the reverend friar: he turned up his
eyes, and muttering "ahi! eretico!" went in search of Bianca, who
confessed to him--Heaven knows what! So innocent a being could have
nothing to reveal, save her own happiness and joy.
Adriano had scarcely left me, when I saw a sergeant, in the welcome and
well-known uniform of my own regiment, ascending the steep avenue to the
castle porch.
"What can be the matter now?" thought I; and at such a time--the deuce!
"Well, Gask, what news from the corps, and what has brought you here?"
said I, as he entered the room and stood straight as his half-pike,
which he held advanced. "Take a chair, man," I added, with that kind
familiarity with which an officer ought always to greet a soldier of his
own regiment in a strange place.
"Sir, I have brought a letter from Sir John Stuart. Being on my way to
join the garrison at Scylla castle, he sent me over in a gun-boat from
Messina, that I might deliver this; which he was anxious you should
receive without delay."