An officer asked him “What he thought now?”
“Oh, now,” said he, “it’s quite another thing.”
Surely this must be considered a brilliant victory when the disparity of numbers is taken into account, and it is the more gratifying to us because Regnier stands so high in reputation, and also because one of these French fellows had formerly spoken very slightingly of the talents of our gallant little General.
After having advanced some miles in pursuit of the enemy, our army resumed the position of the morning.
The action began at half-past eight, and the firing ceased at eleven on the 4th of July.
July 5.—The army after so severe an exertion formed a sort of camp of rest about a mile from the field of battle, and near the sea, so as to have an easy communication with the fleet.[7]
Tents were established for the convenience of the officers, and all the wounded were comfortably accommodated on board, while whatever could contribute to the comfort of the troops was brought to them on shore.
After a short refreshment of this kind, the army advanced to Maida, and there took possession of some French stores.
Having increased its distance from the sea, all the comforts of camp equipage were abandoned, and we now bivouacked in the open fields, and shared in all respects the fare of the private soldiers. Our mess of raw meat was delivered to us in the same proportion as theirs; our camp kettle hung gipsy-like over a fire of sticks, and each officer’s cloak and blanket spread upon the ground served him for a bed and his valise for a pillow, where he lay with his sword by his side and his spurs on his heels, while his horse was picketed close at hand. In the morning I went to some rivulet or spring with shaving tackle and brush in my pocket, and sat down beside it, to lather and brush and scrape uncomfortably enough.
This was a fine climate and a fine season, and that mode of lodging on the bare ground had nothing in it really formidable to youthful strength and spirits, but I never thought it agreeable; and by far the worst night I spent was one in which we had all endeavoured to be a little more comfortable by making huts of branches of trees, and beds of the new-cut corn. An unhandy Sicilian, who acted as my squire of the body, had undertaken to make “my Excellency” a superb “camera frondosa.” Nothing could be worse. A few ill-arranged and ill-supported branches to shade my head only, and over these a loose thatch of wheat. I had made my own bed of golden flax, but he assured me this generated a malaria, and made me change it for bearded wheat. I no sooner lay down than every bearded ear, as if endued with life and motion, began to work itself into my pantaloons, which for coolness were of the dark blue Sicilian web silk, then worn by all our officers. Soon the discomfort this occasioned was increased by the changeful night.