When the town of Ala was carried by assault last June he was the first
to enter it. He went through the hail of bullets with the same calmness
as he would have gone through a rainstorm, and as unscathed.
When the Austrians fled a group of about one hundred and fifty took
refuge in the Cafe 25 Maggio in the piazza then called Moses, and in
the Villa Brazil, almost opposite, determined to resist to the last
in order to cover the retreat. Gen. Cantore said the lieutenant in
command of the nearest platoon, "Come on." They went to the door of
the cafe. "Make them open," he said, "but leave your pistol. They won't
fire." But they did, sending a shower of bullets from the windows.
Neither of the Italians was hit.
"They won't open," said the lieutenant.
"I'll make them," said Cantore. He approached the door, armed only with
his riding whip. Another volley greeted him, and shots from the windows
of the Villa Brazil. He was unwounded, but he lost his calm as he cried:
"Charge, boys, charge! Burst the place open and take them all
prisoners!"
The fight lasted a quarter of an hour. The walls, windows and door of
the cafe were shot full of holes; the Villa Brazil was turned into a
ruin. The few Austrians left alive were made prisoners.
That street is now the Piazza Antonio Cantore.
When the fight was over Gen. Cantore and a few other officers sat down
to dine in the Albergo di Ala. There were three girls from Roverto
who had taken refuge there. They were so pretty that they were called
the "three graces." They waited on the diners. Gen. Cantore chatted
with them, joking one especially, whose name was Pina, calling her
affectionately by pet names--Pinotta, Pinella, Pinina, Pignotta,
Pignina--laughing like a big boy. When he rose from dinner he took her
chin in his hand and said:
"Poor little Pina, far away from thy home! But we shall soon be at
Roverto, and thou wilt come to Roverto right after us. Then thou wilt
be happy again, eh?"
But Antonio Cantore was never to see Roverto. A man cannot snub Death
indefinitely. Death had to get even with Cantore, or remain forever
discredited. One day he had his revenge.
It was on July 20. The Alpini, under Gen. Cantore, were in the
Ampazzano valley, trying to dislodge the Austrians from the slopes of
the three mountains called Tofana di Rozzes, Tofana di Mezzo and Tofana
di Dentro, whence they were able to fire on Cortina and other towns.
Between the Tofana di Rozzes and the Tofana di Mezzo was a refuge hut
for chamois hunters from which Austrian sharpshooters picked off the
Italian soldiers at their leisure. The refuge hut had been bombarded,
but the effect was doubtful.
At 12.30 o'clock Gen. Cantore and Capt. Argenteri started to explore
the place. They reached the advanced trenches by 5.15 o'clock. The
Austrians were still firing from the hidden hut. Cantore and the
Captain tried to locate the precise spot, but could not.
"Captain, we will go up higher and look," said the General. They
climbed up the slope and hid behind some rocks. As they peeped over
these the sun shone straight in Cantore's face.
"I cannot see well," he called to the Captain. Then he stood up and
was placing his field-glasses to his eyes when three shots rang out.
Cantore fell, with two bullets in his forehead. He died instantly.
"His" sergeant, veteran of many battles, grown callous by the sight and
suffering, asked a month's leave of absence to go away and mourn for
his general. In Verona he walked about like a spectre, his face ghastly
and set. They asked, "How did the General die?" And Cillario answered,
"Antonio Cantore is not dead. Antonio Cantore could not die." (Told in
the _New York World_.)