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."