Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy

by G. A. Henty

From time to time he looked out. The roar of musketry was continuous; from every window came puffs of smoke, while the enemy replied by a storm of musketry fire at the defenders. While the column was still moving forward, its officers were telling off parties of men to burst open the doors and bayonet all found in the houses. He could mark the progress made, as women threw themselves out of the windows, preferring death that way to being murdered by the infuriated soldiers. It was not long before the head of the column approached the house; then Frank gave the word, and from every window a discharge was poured into the crowded mass. Stepping back from the balconies to load, the men ran out and fired again as soon as they were ready; while through the upper part of the open windows a shower of bullets flew into the room, bringing down portions of the ceiling, smashing looking-glasses, and striking thickly against the back walls.

Several of the party had fallen in the first two or three minutes, and Frank, taking one of their muskets and ammunition, was working with the rest, when a woman whom he had posted below ran up to say that they were attacking the door, and that it was already yielding. Two or three shots fired through the keyhole had indeed broken the lock, and it was only the furniture piled against it that kept it in its place. Already, by his instructions, the women had brought out on to the landing sofas, chests of drawers, and other articles, to form a barricade there. Frank ran down the stone stairs with six of the men, directing the others to form the barricade on the first floor, and to be prepared to help them over as they returned. It was two or three minutes before the hinges of the door were broken off, by shots from the assailants, and as it fell it was dragged out, and a number of men rushed in and began to pull down the furniture behind.

Now Frank and his party opened fire, aiming coolly and steadily. But the soldiers rushed in in such numbers that he soon gave the word, and his party ran upstairs, and, covered by the fire of their comrades, climbed up over the barricade on to the landing. Here they defended themselves desperately. The enemy thronged the staircase, those who were in front using their bayonets, while the men in the passage below fired over their heads at the defenders. Momentarily the little band decreased in number, until but two remained on their feet by the side of Frank. The women, knowing that no mercy would be shown, picked up the muskets of the fallen, and fired them into the faces of the men trying to pull down or scale the barricades. But the end was close at hand, when there came a tremendous crash, a blinding smoke and dust. The house shook to its foundations, and for a moment a dead silence took the place of the din that had before prevailed.

Frank and his two companions had been thrown down by the shock. Half stunned, and ignorant of what had happened, he struggled to his feet. His left hand hung helpless by his side. He took his pistol, which he had reserved for the last extremity, from his belt, and looked over the barricade. At first he could see nothing, so dense was the smoke and dust. As it cleared away a little, he gave an exclamation of surprise and thankfulness: the stairs were gone.

“Thank God!” he said, turning round to the women behind him, who were standing paralysed by the explosion and shock. “We are safe: the stairs have gone.”

Still he could scarce understand what had happened, until he saw a yawning hole in the wall near the stairs, and then understood what had taken place. The ships-of-war were again at work bombarding the town. One of their shells had passed through the house and exploded under the stairs, carrying them away, with all upon them. Below was a chaos of blocks of stone, mingled with the bodies of their late assailants; but while he looked, a fierce jet of flame burst up.

“What was there under the stairs?” he asked the women.

“The store of firewood, signor, was there.”

“The shell which blew up the stairs has set it alight,” he said. “We are safe from the enemy; but we are not safe from the fire. I suppose there is a way out on to the roof?”