"Hurrah!" cried I, almost frantic with excitement, ramming home another ball with my own hand; "Bravo! Gask, keep your hand tight on the vent—ready the match—stand clear of the recoil—fire!" and again it belched forth destruction. Thrice it was fired, and thrice the shot struck the same place; an enormous rent yawned in the wall, and a mass of masonry fell to the earth: yet the French fought with undiminished courage. The side of a room had been completely breached.
"Forward the 62nd! Advance the Calabri! On them with the bayonet—charge—hurrah!" Animated by my example, and notwithstanding the deadly fire poured on them from every part, onward they went, with that heroic ardour which soon after swept the armies of Napoleon from the fields of Spain and Flanders. We burst in amongst the voltigeurs; whose diminutive stature placed them at the utmost disadvantage, when opposed to English soldiers and the tall athletic Calabri in the fierce hand-to-hand combat which ensued. A desperate struggle followed; for a time the podesteria seemed shaken to its base, and in the close melée I received a severe blow from a clubbed musket: but the voltigeurs yielded themselves prisoners of war in five minutes; and my soldiers immediately encircled them, to protect them from the knives and bayonets of the infuriated Italians.
In the despatch of General Sherbrooke it is mentioned, that "in the night attack on Bagnara, the voltigeurs of the 23rd Light Infantry were cut to pieces." This was literally the case: so merciless were the Calabrese, that a great number of the poor Frenchmen were slaughtered in their beds (a blanket, a greatcoat, or a bundle of fern), and no wounded man escaped them. Of Colonel Pepe's 600 voltigeurs, 450 lay, like himself, weltering in blood, in the streets and houses of Bagnara. I did all that man could do, short of assaulting the Calabrians, to stop the horrid slaughter; but my efforts were unavailing, and the blood of these brave men was poured forth like water: the soldiers of the 62nd revolted at such cold-blooded cruelty, and expressed their indignation aloud. The poor remnant of the 23rd were moody and silent, cast down in spirit and pale in visage, ragged and half naked, when I paraded them outside the town; just as the grey day-light brightened the Milia peaks, and the sea began to change its hue from inky grey to sparkling blue, as it rolled on the rocky promontories of Scylla and Palmi. Our casualties were numerous: but one officer, a hundred and fifty rank and file, and three pieces of cannon were the prizes of the night. To gain these, four hundred and fifty of their comrades had been destroyed; and almost in cold blood too!
CHAPTER XII.
RETREAT IN SQUARE.—THE PRISONER OF WAR.
Borne on the morning breeze from Seminara, the distant sound of a cavalry trumpet warned us to retire with precipitation. We spiked the guns, blew up the tumbrils, and, setting the town on fire, soon destroyed all of Bagnara that the last earthquake had left unengulfed. Lighted by the red blaze which the burning houses cast on the green hills, the dark pine woods, and the impending masses of basaltic rock frowning over mountain-streams and deep defiles, we continued our retreat double-quick, without the aid of our little guide, Pablo; who, at sound of the first shot, had vanished, without waiting for his promised reward.
"Hark to the tantara of the trumpets! Milette's cavalry brigade is coming on," said Santugo, checking his black Barbary horse and listening to the distant sound.
As he spoke, French cavalry appeared on the Seminara road, galloping in file along the narrow way by which we were hurrying towards Scylla; whose ramparts we discerned above the morning mist, about three miles off. The rising sun gleamed gaily on the long lines of shining helmets and glancing sabres, as the horsemen swept through the deep dell in close pursuit. The fire of Casteluccio's volunteers, who formed our rear-guard, served to keep them in check for a time, and impede their advance by the fall of steeds and their riders; but on our debouchement into more open ground, I formed the whole into a compact square, with the prisoners in the centre. The cavalry now pushed on at a furious gallop, and, as they cleared the gorge, the trumpeters sounded in succession "form squadron;" the right files trotted, while the left swept round at full speed; and, the moment each troop formed, it rushed upon us with a force and impetuosity which must have stricken terror into the Calabrese: but the proud troopers recoiled before the levelled bayonets and steady fire of a few brave men of my own corps, who formed the rearward face of the square.
Successively the six squadrons of a whole corps of light cavalry swept after us, and successively they were compelled to break into subdivisions, and retire to the right and left round the flanks of their column, while the next in order advanced to the charge. They suffered severely: both horses and riders lay rolling in heaps, while we lost not a man, as the troopers never fired their pistols: probably to spare their countrymen who were our prisoners. Just as a brigade of horse artillery came at a gallop from the dell, and were wheeled round on an eminence to open upon us, we gained the shelter of a pine thicket, and in perfect safety retired leisurely upon Scylla.
Casteluccio's band—whose retreat to their fastnesses in the Solano the advance of Milette's cavalry had completely cut off—I added to the garrison of the town. The wound of the brave cavaliere was severe, and a musket-ball had broken his left arm. Our surgeon, Macnesia, reduced the fracture; but the patient was quite unserviceable, and therefore retired for a time to Messina.