After half an hour's conversation, maintained principally by myself, in describing the journey from Crotona, we adjourned to the scene of operations; where four hundred and fifty soldiers were toiling along a narrow and rugged road, dragging the heavy guns from the beach towards the mountain.
"Beware of that little fellow Navarro!" said Castelermo, tapping me on the shoulder; "he regards you with no friendly eye, for the exposé you made of his ignorance. He is Sicilian bred, and the Sicilians are slippery dogs."
A party provided with hatchets, pickaxes, and spades, moved in front, and cleared the way by cutting down trees and hedges, levelling walls and fences, and removing all obstacles to the progress of those who brought the cannon; some pulling the ropes attached to the clumsy ship-carriages, whilst others urged the little creaking wheels by applying crow-bars behind. It was a task equally slow and laborious; but the officers, with proper zeal, set an example to the soldiers, by sharing in the toil, and working among them without their coats. On the hill all traces of road or track had disappeared, and thickets of olives, wild vines, ruined walls, masses of sandstone, ruts, and gorges, obstructed the way so much, that the hour of two in the morning arrived ere the guns were posted and ready for service.
Our little party of artillery, assisted by some of the infantry of the line, had them loaded, depressed, and prepared to open fire, the instant day began to brighten the Straits of Messina.
Meanwhile, the marquis and his garrison were not idle: by the noise in the town below, they became aware that something unusual was going on; and blue balls were burned on every battlement and pinnacle, until all Scylla seemed wrapped in livid flames: a ghastly glare lighted up the ocean to the west, and the mountains to the east; the clouds above us floated in sulphury blue; and even the spires of Fiumara and Messina glimmered in the cold, unearthly lustre shed from those lofty ramparts. The castle was so distinctly revealed, that we could have counted every stone in the massive keep, and every bar in the grated windows; but the night was so dark as effectually to conceal our operations. They fired a few rounds of shot and shell at random, killing a few of the guards who blocked up the avenues of the place, but otherwise without effect; and I have no doubt they were a little disconcerted, when dawning day revealed to them eight thirty-sixes on the mountain-side, and opposed to the weakest part of their works. A commotion was immediately observable among them; and a still greater one when, on firing our first salvo, a mass of the outer bastion, above the cordon, fell into the ditch below.
Encouraged by this, our artillerymen plied the cannon with might and main, working in their shirt-sleeves (it was a broiling morning); but after an hour's firing, the carronades became heated, and began to "kick" and recoil so much, that they were compelled to cease operations for a time, and permit them to cool: a process which the French usually facilitate by introducing sponges steeped in vinegar, when it can be had; which is not often, on service.
The gallant garrison strove hard to interrupt these successful operations; but as we were rather beyond the range of musketry, and their battery-guns could not be pointed to such an elevation as that on which we were situated, they had recourse to mortars: these, however, were so ill-managed that the bombs generally fell short, and either sank into the turf or rolled down the hill to the sea-shore and exploded among the breakers.
When again our battery opened, we heard the French band playing the old republican carmagnole—a piece of mere gasconade.
"I will bet a dozen of wine we change their tune in an hour," said the general, who was watching the operations through his telescope. "We will humble them yet."
"Ha! what can that be?" I exclaimed; "a sortie?"