CHAPTER IV.CASTELGUELFO—THE WOLF OF AMATO.By the barone, a short and meagre little man of a most forbidding aspect, we were received with all due honour and courtesy, and without being recognised; but his residence was so full of armed men, that it could scarcely afford us accommodation, ample though its towers and corridors seemed to be."These are Lucchesi, the most hideous provincials of Italy; those wanderers who spread over all Europe with organs and monkeys," whispered Ortensia, as we passed through the court, which was crowded with the most savage-looking fellows imaginable. Many were half naked, or clad only in the skins of sheep and lynxes, beneath which might be seen the remains of a ragged shirt, a tattered vest, or breeches, once red or yellow; their legs and feet were bare; some had old battered hats, or red slouched caps: but the greater number had only their shock heads of hair, bleached by the weather till it was coarse as a charger's mane, and overhanging their gaunt ferocious visages, grim with starvation and misery: which ever accompanied French invasion. A few wore the gallant bandit costume of the south, and all were carousing, and filling the hollow towers, the dark arcades, and echoing corridors with bursts of brutal laughter to lighten their work: for all were busy, polishing rifle and pistol locks, and grinding the blades of sabres, poniards, and pikes. My fair companions shrank with dismay from the hall windows when they viewed the assemblage below, and even I did not feel quite at ease; especially after seeing about two hundred stand ofFrencharms and accoutrements ranged along the vestibule."Signor Barone, you keep a strong garrison here," said I, smiling, while we surveyed the motley crew of ruffians from a lofty oriel; "do you expect Massena to pass the Amato soon?""That would be superb!" replied he, with a grin, which revealed his ample and wolfish jaws. "No, no, 't is only my good friend Scarolla, the valiant captain of four hundred free companions, who is here with his band: we are bound on a little piece of service together. Ha! ha! if that fool Belcastro had not poisoned himself instead of the Maltese Knight, he would have been here too."At that moment Scarolla approached: I attentively surveyed the celebrated bandit-chief, whose name, in the annals of Italian ferocity, stands second only to that of Mammone, "the blood-quaffer." He was above six feet high, and moulded like a Hercules; dark as that of a Negro, his mean visage announced him a Lucchese; long black hair hung down his back, and a thick beard fringed his chin. The band of his ample beaver, his velvet jacket and mantello were covered with the richest embroidery, and a silver hilted poniard glittered in his waist-belt. His brows were knit and lowering, his eyes keen and sinister: the ladies trembled beneath the bold scrutiny of his glance, and shrank close to my side for protection while the withered little barone introduced us."Signor Inglese, the valiant Capitano Scarolla; brave men ought to know each other: you are both captains, remember.""Serving under different leaders," I replied, while bowing, and repressing a scornful smile."Superba!" cried the little barone, laughing and rubbing his hands; but Scarolla's brows knit closer, and his eyes kindled at my inuendo.The hall was now lighted by several tall candelabra; their lustre was reflected from the gilded columns and pendants of the lofty roof, and the frames of dark, gloomy, and mysterious portraits of the ancient Guelfi; who seemed scowling from their pannels on their degenerate descendant and his unworthy confederate.That ancient apartment, when viewed as I beheld it, one-half bathed in warm light, and the other sunk in cold shadow, seemed the very scene of a romance; to which the graceful figures of the Signora del Castagno and her sister, and the picturesque garb of the tall Scarolla gave additional effect. Now were appropriate sounds wanting; for a storm raged in the valley below, thunder growled in the mountains above, and the rain rushed like hail on the casements; the painted traceries of which were often lit by fitful gleams of the moon or the blue forked lightning, as it shot from hill to hill.Uneasy in the presence of Scarolla, the ladies, after a slight refreshment, withdrew to repose; promising to be up with the lark for our journey to-morrow.When travelling, or on active service, one is compelled to accommodate oneself to every kind of society, place, and circumstance; and upon this philosophical principle, I made myself quite at home, and supped merrily with the barone and bandit: of whom the servants stood in the greatest awe. Supper over, wine was produced: however abstemious the Italians may be, I saw no sign of the national trait that night, at Castelguelfo; where we drank the richest continental wines, emptying the decanters in rapid succession, as if we had been three Germans drinking for a wager.Rendered mellow by his potations, our host became talkative; and, in spite of the nods and contemptuous frowns of the impatient Scarolla, informed me that he was collecting men to make a political demonstration, of which I should soon hear at Palermo—an attack on a powerful feudatory, with whom he had a deadly quarrel, which the presence of our army only smothered for a time."It will be superb," grinned the barone. "I hate him with the stern bitterness of a thorough old Calabrese. Thrice has he crossed me at court: he caused Ferdinand to regard me with coldness and jealousy, and when all the nobles of the province received the order of San Constantino, I alone was left undecorated; and my name, the oldest in Naples, was forgotten. We have now the country to ourselves; and taking advantage of the lull, all Italy, from Scylla to the Alps, shall ring with my retribution. Yesterday, Crotona was abandoned to the Calabri; the soldiers who fought and won at Maida have all withdrawn, and there is no one to mar my revenge. O, it will be signal! In their king's service, the followers of my foe are all in garrison at Reggio; and his residence is unprotected. I have a hundred sbirri well mounted, armed and faithful; Scarolla has four hundred of the bravest rogues that ever levelled a rifle. Superba! Loyal visconte, beware the fangs of the Wolf! Per Baccho! there shall be a modern feud between the Guelfi and Alfieri, famous as that they had of old—ha! ha!""The Villa D'Alfieri is then the point of attack," said I."Superba!" screamed the little barone, who was becoming more inebriated: "yes; I will clothe its walls in flames; and if blood can quench them, then so shall they be quenched. Yea, in blood, shed where my ancestor's yet cries for vengeance. Viva Guesippe Buonaparte!""One alone shall be spared, excellency;" remarked Scarolla, who was also becoming excited."So I have promised you, prince of rogues, as the price of your services. The plunder of the villa belongs to your followers; and to you falls that glorious prize, the theme of our improvisatori, the pride of the Calabrias——""Bianca D'Alfieri!" added Scarolla, his eyes lighting with insolent triumph."Superb! is she not?" laughed the barone."God curse you both," I muttered; instinctively feeling for my sabre, and gulping down my wine, to hide the passion that boiled within me. I thanked Heaven that they knew not of Gismondo and his company; by whom I hoped the villa would be saved from this revengeful rebel."When does the attack take place, signor?""To-morrow, at midnight. We will burn a light at St. Eufemio that will astonish the good citizens of Messina, and scare Fata Morgana in her ocean palace. You are on your way to Palermo?"I bowed."Say, when you get there, that Castelguelfo is in league with Regnier, has burned the grand bailiff, and hoisted the standard of Guiseppe of Naples: cospetto! the cross of the iron crown will outweigh the star of Constantine!""Success to the expedition, signori," said I, drinking to conceal my anger and confusion. "Faith! this is quite a revival of that ancient feud, of which the improvisatori sing so much.""And long will they sing of the diabolical treachery of the Alfieri.""Signor, I would gladly hear the relation.""You shall, in a few words. You have heard of the famous fighting Dominican Campanella, who, in 1590, raised the banner of revolt in the Calabrias: my ancestor, Barone Amadeo, disgusted by Spanish misrule, joined him with three hundred men-at-arms; but these were all defeated and slaughtered by the followers of the then Visconte Santugo, on the same field of Maida where you so lately vanquished Regnier. Then commenced the quarrel between the Guelfi and the Alfieri; which, though we never came to blows, has survived for two centuries, and has settled down into coldness, mistrust, and jealousy, intriguing at court and petty squabbling at home. We are old-fashioned people here; but France holds out civilization and regeneration to us. Well, Messer Amadeo was defeated, and Santugo gave his castle to the flames, so that the Wolf of Amato might have nowhere to lay his head. An outcast, deserted by his followers and abandoned by all, he wandered long in the wild forest of St. Eufemio, until, reduced to the last extremities of hunger and despair, he resolved to throw himself upon the generosity of his triumphant enemy; and knocking at the gate of the castle of Santugo, craved the insolent porter to admit him to the visconte's presence. He was absent, fighting against Campanella; but Theodelinde of Bova, his young wife, resided at the castle during his campaign."Gaunt, from long continued misery, overgrown with a mass of beard and hair—clad in the skins of his namesake the wolf instead of the knightly Milan steel, and grasping a knotted staff in lieu of the bright-bladed falchion of Ferrara—Messer Amadeo had more the aspect of an ancient satyr than a Neapolitan cavalier."'Madonna mia!" cried Theodelinde, with dismay, 'Who art thou?'"'Signora, thou beholdest Guelfo, the persecuted lord of Amato, who is come to cast himself at thy feet. My territories spread from the Tyrrhene to the Adriatic Sea; they have passed away, my people are destroyed, my castle is ruined, and I have nowhere to lay my head, save in the grave. Though thy husband's foe, take pity upon me, gentle signora! I am perishing with want; for the ban of God and the king are upon me, and no man dares to give me a morsel of bread or a cup of water.'"Gentle in spirit, and milder in blood than our Italian dames, Theodelinde came of an old Albanian race; and, moved with pity, wept to behold a warrior of such high courage and birth reduced to such exceeding misery. Enjoining her maidens to secrecy, she provided him with food and raiment, and concerted means for his escape into Greece. The unfortunate Amadeo was grateful, and, touched with her generosity, swore on the cross that he would forgive the visconte for all the persecutions to which he had subjected him. That night he retired to rest in peace, beneath the roof of his deadliest enemy."Long exhaustion caused a deep slumber to sink upon his eyelids, and he heard not the clang of hoofs and the clash of steel ringing in the wide quadrangle, announcing that Santugo had returned, flushed with victory and triumph; his sword reeking with the blood of the revolters. Theodelinde rushed forth to meet her husband, and their meeting was one of joy: her tears of happiness fell on the steel corslet of the stern visconte, and he too rejoiced; for the Spanish king had promised to bestow upon him all the possessions of Amadeo, if before the festival of the Annunciation, which was but three days distant, he placed the Wolf's head on the high altar of St. Eufemio."The gentle viscontessa knew not of this bloody compact; but presuming on the joy and tenderness displayed by her husband, and shrinking from aught that resembled duplicity, she led him to the chamber of Amadeo. He was reposing on a stately couch, and fitfully the beams of the night-lamp fell on his pale forehead and noble features. He started, awoke, and saw—what? Theodelinde by his bed-side, with her stern husband clad in complete armour. Santugo, his barred visor up, regarded him with a lowering visage; while he grasped a heavy zagaglia, such as our estradiots used of old, and which glittered deadly like the eyes of him who held it. Then Theodelinde knew, by the glare of that terrible eye, that Amadeo was lost, and she sank upon her knees."'Oh, pity him and spare him for my sake: spare him if you love me, my husband.'"But the ruthless Alfieri heard her not—saw her not: he beheld only the aggrandisement of his power, and hearkened only to the whisperings of avarice and enmity. Amadeo leaped up; but his foe was too swift for him. Hurled with equal force and dexterity, the zagaglia flew hissing from Santugo's hand, and its broad barbed head cleft the skull, and lay quivering in the brain of Amadeo. Theodelinde sank down on the floor in horror; while the visconte cut off the head with his poniard, and knitting the locks to his baldrick, galloped to the church of St. Eufemio, where he flung the gory trophy on the altar. The ghastly skull remained there on a carved stone bracket, for half a century; until the cathedral of St. Eufemio was destroyed, on the anniversary of the deed, by the earthquake of 1638. Those who viewed its fall beheld a spectacle which was beyond description terrible! The earth yawned, and the stately church with its three tall taper spires; its pinnacles, rich with gothic carving; its windows, sparkling with light and gorgeous with tracery; its massive battlements and echoing aisles, sank slowly into the flaming abyss,—down, down, until the gilded cross on the tallest pinnacle vanished. Convents, stately palaces, and streets sank down with it, and where St. Eufemio stood, there lay a vast black fetid lake, rolling its dark sulphurous waves in the light of the summer moon. Ho! ho! what a tomb for the skull of the Wolf!"The Guelfi were landless outcasts, until, by the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, Naples passed away from Spanish domination; and under Charles of Parma, my father recovered the old possessions of our house: now, in imitation of Amadeo, I am ready for revolt; and, with every chance of success, to-morrow shall unroll the banner of Joseph of Naples, whom Madonna bless! To-morrow, let the Alfieri and loyalists beware! I will not spare even the linnet in the cage, or the dog that sleeps on the hearth. Drink, Scarolla, to the Signora Bianca; who by to-morrow eve will be hailed as thy gay capitanessa!"But Scarolla heard him not: his head had fallen forward on his breast, and long ere the host's story was concluded, he was snoring with the force of a trombone.CHAPTER V.HAPPINESS.By daybreak next morning we were clear of the castello; for we quitted its walls while its ruffian inmates were buried in slumber. I was happy when the ladies were mounted, and once more on the road; having been under considerable apprehension for their safety: dreading, perhaps, our detention as royalist prisoners in the barone's residence."A rough night the last for a march, signor," said I to Captain Gismondo, whom we found parading the Calabri in the street of Amato."A tempest, signor! the blue glare of the lightning alone revealed to us that foaming river which we forded, the water rising to our waist-belts; and the rain that rushed down from heaven was every drop large enough to beat in our drumheads."Ordering the company to march by a solitary and long forgotten road, towards St. Eufemio, I informed Gismondo and my fair charge of the diabolical plan laid by the barone and his revolters to destroy the villa, and assign the innocent Bianca to the wretch Scarolla as the price of his co-operation. Her sisters shrieked with terror, and old Battista gave me a stern smile while laying his hand on his sword."I know a path across the mountains, signor; I travelled it once to Monteleone: my little daughter was with me then;" he sighed deeply. "By Ave Maria this evening our good friends the Alfieri will have a hundred and fifty bayonets at their disposal. Compagna! threes right, quick march!" and we moved off with rapidity.Marching by the most retired roads, we made a circuit among the mountains to deceive the barone, if any of his scouts should have followed us. The evening sun was casting the long shadows of the lofty hills of Nicastro across the woods and valleys of St. Eufemio, the waters of the bay were rolling in their usual varied tints of sparkling blue, and the eve was so calm and still, that the dash of the lonely breakers, as they flowed on the sandy beach, was heard many miles from the shore; mingling with the solemn hymn of the Sicilian mariners, and the crews of those picturesque feluccas which spread their striped latteen sails to the breezes of the strait.Leaving Gismondo with his company to follow, I pushed on with the ladies at full gallop towards the villa: they were both expert horsewomen, and quite outstripped me, as we flew along the sandy marino. Their merry laughter and taunting cries of "Fi! fi! Signor Capitano," were very galling to me; for I was considered the best horseman (except Lascelles) on the Sicilian staff, and had twice won the regimental and brigade cup at the Palermitan races."On my honour! ladies, if I held the reins of my brave English grey instead of those of a chubby Calabrian horse, you would not have distanced me thus," said I, when they halted to let me come up with them.The battery erected by the soldiers of Sir Louis de Watteville was now abandoned and demolished; the cannon were away, and the platforms overgrown with luxuriant grass. How stirringly my time had passed since the morning when our army landed on the beach close by!The moment we rode into the quadrangle of the villa, the clattering hoofs roused the whole household, as the blast of a trumpet would have done. To be brief: great was the joy diffused by our arrival. We disturbed the old viscontessa from cards, with which she was rapidly gaining from old Adriano all the ducats she had paid at confessional an hour before for peccadilloes. The young visconte, pale and worn with long illness of mind and body, received the trembling Francesca to his arms as if she had been restored to him from the tomb. The Italians are peculiarly exciteable, and his transports were wild in the extreme. He had expected to behold his bride no more; and now she was hanging on his bosom, free, happy, and more beautiful than ever. As I had long foreseen, he placed in my hand that of his blushing cousin, Bianca; while the venerable viscontessa wept and prayed with joy, scattered a handful of cards and counters over us, in her confusion, and embraced us by turns. The whole household, male and female, from Andronicus the chasseur to the little ragazzo who turned the spits, joined in a general chorus of joy; they commenced the furious tarantella in the quadrangle, and the whole mansion rang with shouts: which were soon to be changed for those of a less agreeable nature.Around the white neck of Bianca, I threw the riband with the gold medal presented to me by Cardinal York, whose kindness had restored Francesca to light and life; and the sweet girl kissed it, promising to treasure it for his sake and mine. She appeared so beautiful, so blooming and happy, as she hung upon my shoulder in the recess of a lofty window, with the light of the western sky streaming on her bright curls and glittering dress; and Santugo seemed so much absorbed in the presence of her sister, who was seated between him and his mother, with a hand clasped fondly by each; that I was loath to disturb the happy group and blight their general joy, by speaking of Guelfo: but the appearance of Gismondo's company marching along the marino, and the advanced hour of the evening, made it imperative that arrangements should be made for fighting or flying. All changed colour when I mentioned Castelguelfo: Santugo's brow grew black, and his mother burst into tears."O, Luigi! to remain would be madness, when Giacomo and all our people are serving as soldiers at Reggio!" she exclaimed."It ill beseems you, signora, to counsel me to my dishonour;" replied the fierce young man, with singular hauteur, while his lip quivered and his dark eyes shone with fire. "Like all the family of Amato, Dionisio is a coward at heart, and a rebel Buonapartist; and shall I, who am esteemed among the bravest and most patriotic of our noblesse, fly before a base leaguer with banditti? Never! With Gismondo's Calabri, and the armed men I can collect on an hour's notice, to the last will I defend my father-house; fighting from chamber to chamber and story to story, and die rather than yield, even should Guelfo involve the whole fabric in flames and destruction.""Ammirando!" exclaimed Gismondo, entering, "you speak as I expected to hear the son of my old comrade; whose honours you will never tarnish. Courage, ladies! One hundred and fifty bayonets are here, under my orders; and with Madonna's blessing, and our own hands, the Wolf may fall into as great a snare as old Amadeo did in the days of poor Campanella."The viscontessa shuddered: but her son took down his sword from the wall."Dundas," said he; "to you, who are a soldier of greater experience than any here (not even excepting our old guerilla, Gismondo), I look principally for advice during this night's uproar. Come, signor, leave Bianca, and loosen your sabre in its sheath. Ladies, away to your mandolins and embroidery, or to ave and credo; your presence alone unmans me. Ola, Zaccheo! where the devil is my old courier tarrying now? Bolt and barricade every door and window, and muster and arm the valets. Even the little ragazzo must handle a musket to-night.""Had we not better send a horseman to the Royal Reggitore of Nicastro for aid?""An insolent Sicilian dog!" replied Santugo. "No, no; we must trust to Heaven and our own bravery."Land and ocean had grown dark, or what is deemed so in fair Ausonia. The bright stars studding the whole firmament, and the pale silver moon rising over the dark green ridges of the wooded hills, shed their mystic light on cape and bay over Amato's frowning rocks and flowing river; illuminating the tall round tower, the broad façade, and many arcades of the Villa D'Alfieri, and bathing in silver the orange woods around it.Before the hour of the projected attack, we had all prepared for defence; and our arrangements had been made for a vigorous one: every door, window, and aperture were strongly barred and barricaded; piles of furniture, statues, cushions, ottomans, massive tomes from the library, and everything suitable, were pressed into the service; forming barriers in the passages and on stair-landings, in case of an assault. Ere midnight tolled from the sonorous old clock in the quadrangle, all the ladies and their attendants were stowed away in the attic story, and one hundred and eighty men were stationed at the different posts assigned them below. Gismondo commanded one wing of the mansion; his lieutenant and Alfiero, two cavaliers of the House of Bisignano, the other; while Santugo and myself occupied the centre.The soldiers were so well posted, that the different approaches to the villa were completely enfiladed; while that by the quadrangle would be exposed to a deadly cross fire from fifty windows. In this order we awaited the revolters.On making my rounds, to see that all were on the alert, I visited the ladies; who, in the attic story of the old round tower, were quite secure from musketry. The old viscontessa was on her knees praying: she had relinquished her cards for "The Litanies of our Blessed Lady;" and a crowd of female domestics knelt around her. Bianca and her sisters were clustered together, with arms entwined, like three beautiful graces; but looking pale and terrified: awaiting the strife with beating hearts and eyes suffused with tears."Dearest Claude!" said she whose gentle voice I loved best, "for God's sake! O, for my sake! do not expose yourself heedlessly to danger.""Courage, dear one," said I, putting an arm playfully round her; "we must all fight like the Trojans of old. Think of what will be the fate of us all—of yourself in particular—if Guelfo and his ruffian compeers capture the villa to-night. If I can put a bullet into the head of this new suitor, Scarolla—Tush, Bianca! ridiculous, is it not?" She made a sickly attempt to smile, but bowed her head on my shoulder and wept. I heard Santugo and his chasseur uttering my name, and calling aloud through various parts of the mansion; but I was too agreeably occupied to attend to them just then."Allerta!" cried Gismondo; and knowing the military warning, I hurried away to the scene of action."See you the rascals, signor?" said he, pointing from a barricaded window, to a dark mass moving along the distant roadway, and rapidly debouching into the lawn. They marched in the full glare of the moonlight, and the gleam of steel flashed incessantly from the shapeless column. They carried two standards, and one was a tri-color."Some of those Jacobin dogs are the iron miners of Stilo: they have long been stubborn traitors," said Santugo, in accents of rage."And bold Scarolla, so long the scourge of Frenchmen, why leagues he with villains such as these?""You forgot, signor," replied the young lord, with a grim smile, "that he is either to gain a noble bride, or an ounce bullet to-night."CHAPTER VI.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.""Cannon!" I reiterated, and exchanged glances with Santugo. We were both astounded by the intelligence."O, Claude!" said my friend, "I tremble only for my mother, for Francesca and her sisters. For myself, per Baccho! you know I would fight, without a tremor, till roof and rafters, column and cupola, fell in ruins above me. Is all lost, then?'"No," said I, speaking through my hand; for the noise of the conflict was deafening; "we may save the villa yet, and all its inmates: but a bold dash must be made. Look yonder! what see you?""I understand—the task is mine.""Mine, rather.""No, no, Signor Claude, I have Francesca at stake.""And I, Bianca—we are equal.""I care not. Ola, Andronicus! saddle my cavallo Barbero, and look well to girth and holster—quick, away, Signor Greco!"What we saw was the British fleet, consisting of a gigantic ship of the line and three or four frigates and corvettes, standing slowly down the Straits of the Pharo, and keeping close in shore; attracted, probably, by the sound of the firing. I knew the flag-ship of Sir Sidney Smith, by its old-fashioned poop-lantern; and my project was to despatch a messenger on board, craving help. But how could one leave the villa? it was environed on one side by surf and steep rocks, shelving down to a whirlpool; on the other by fierce assailants who were merciless as the yawning sea.Desperate was the venture: but that it must be attempted, we knew was imperative. A friendly contest ensued between us and the two Cavalieri Caraffa; each insisting on being the executor of the dangerous service. We contested the point so long, that it was at last referred to a throw of dice: the lot fell on Luigi; who prepared at once for the deadly mission, by divesting himself of his mantle, buttoning his short velvet surtout closely about him, and taking in three holes of his sword belt; while I hurriedly indited the following note to the admiral."VILLA D'ALFIERI.Sept.20*th*, 1808."Sir,"I have the honour to request that you will order as strong a detachment of seamen or marines as you may deem necessary, to be landed at the villa of the Alfieri, which is closely besieged by the Baron of Castelguelfo, a Buonapartist, who is now at the head of a numerous force of Italian rebels. To protect the loyal family of the bearer, the Visconte di Santugo, I placed in the villa a company of the Free Corps, and have already to regret the loss of Captain Battista Gismondo, and nearly sixty rank and file. Our case is desperate. The villa will not be tenable one hour longer, as the barone (whom Regnier has supplied with all munition of war) is bringing two pieces of cannon against it, and our cartridges are totally expended. I have the honour, &c. &c."CLAUDE DUNDAS,Capt. 62d Regt."Admiral Sir SIDNEY SMITH,H.M. shipPompey.According to the fashion of many large Italian houses, the stables formed a part of the principal building; and so in the present emergency it was lucky that the horses were at hand. Santugo's black Barbary horse, with its red quivering nostrils, eyes sparkling fire, and its mane bristling at the noise of the musketry, was led by the Greek chasseur through a long corridor to a saloon which overlooked the grottoes by the sea-shore. The saddled steed was an unusual visitor in that noble apartment; where statues, vases, pictures, and sofas, were piled up in confusion to form barricades before six tall windows which faced the straits. One was open, revealing the bright sky, the sparkling sea, Sicilia's coast and the sailing fleet; while ten Calabri, with their bayonets at the charge, stood by to guard the aperture.The brave young noble mounted, and stooping as he passed out, guided his horse along a ledge of slippery rock, and the casement was immediately secured behind him. We watched him with equal anxiety and admiration, as he rode along the perilous path, where one false step of the Barbary would have plunged him in the whirlpool, which roared and sucked in the foaming eddies, beneath the villa walls. The instant he passed the angle of the building which was swept by the fire of the assailants, there burst from them a simultaneous yell; which was answered by a shout of reckless defiance from the daring Santugo, who driving spurs into his fleet horse, compelled it to clear the high balustraded terrace by a flying leap. Then his long sword flashed in the moonlight as he slashed right and left, crying—"Viva Carolina! Ferdinando nostra e la Santa Fede!" cutting his way through the yelling mass, escaping bullet and steel as if he had a charmed life, he passed through them and was free; and I had no doubt would gain the village (where the boats lay) safely and rapidly.Enraged at his escape, the revolters pressed on with renewed fury, but changed their mode of attack. A cloud now passed over the moon involving the scenery in comparative darkness; but it was soon to be illuminated in a manner I little expected.There flashed forth a sudden glare of light, revealing the sea of ferocious visages and glancing arms of the enemy, the bloody terrace heaped with dead, the dark arcades, carved cornices, and lofty portico of the villa: a lurid glare shone over everything, and a man advanced to the terrace holding aloft an Indian sky-rocket; a terrible species of firework often used by the French. Its yellow blaze fell full upon the face of the bearer, in whom I recognised the villainous engineer, Navarre; I snatched a musket from the hand of a dead soldier, but ere it was aimed the traitor had shot the fiery missile from his hand and disappeared.This terrible instrument of eastern warfare forced itself forward, roaring and blazing towards the villa, and breaking through a window, plunged about as if instinct with life, setting fire to everything inflammatory within its reach. From its size and weight, and the formation of its sides, which were bristling with spikes, it finally stuck fast to the flooring of a room; where its power of combustion increased every instant, and a succession of reports burst from it as its fire-balls flew off in every direction. All fled in dismay, to avoid being blown up by the sparks falling into their pouches, scorched to death by remaining in its vicinity, shot by its bullets, or stabbed by the spikes; which it shot forth incessantly, like quills from a "fretful porcupine."In vain I cried for water: no one heard me; the diabolical engine bounded, roared, and hissed like a very devil, involving us in noisome and suffocating smoke; and in three minutes the magnificent villa was in flames, and its defenders paralysed."Superba!" cried the barone. "Viva Guiseppe!" and the triumphant yells of his enraged followers redoubled. I turned to the Cavalieri Caraffa."Gentlemen, keep your soldiers at their posts to the last," said I, "while I provide for the retreat of the ladies.""How, signor?" asked Andronicus; "on every hand they environ us, save the seaward; where a whirlpool—O, omnipotente!"At that moment we heard the report of a cannon; a round shot passed through the great door, demolishing in its passage a beautiful fountain of marble and bronze, and the water flowed in a torrent over the tessellated pavement, while musketry was discharged in quick succession through the breach. To augment our distress, the barone's guns had come up; and the triumphant cries, the ferocity and daring of the assailants increased as the hot flames grew apace around us. Shrieks now burst from the summit of the round tower: overwhelmed with anxiety and rage, and faint with the heat and smoke of the fire-arms and conflagration, I hurried up the great staircase to bring away the females, who could not remain five minutes longer: but where or how I was to convey them, Heaven only knew!The moon, which had been obscured for some time, now shone forth with renewed lustre; and I saw the sea brightening like a silver flood, as the last clouds passed away from the shining orb. O, sight of joy! Three large boats filled with marines and seamen were at that moment pulled close under the rocks; to which they had advanced unseen by the foe. The headmost had already disappeared in the sea grottoes; and I heard the measured clank of the rowlocks, and saw the oar-blades of the sternmost barge flash like blue fire as they were feathered in true man-o'-war style. The boats shot under the rocks, like arrows: one moment the glittering moon poured its cold light on the glazed caps and bristling bayonets of the closely packed marines—on the bright pike-heads, the gleaming cutlasses, and little tarpaulins of the seamen—and the next, it shone on the lonely seething ocean."Saved, thank Heaven!" I exclaimed, rushing down the stair. "Bravo, soldateria! fight on, brave Calabri, for aid is near. Hollo, Zaccheo! throw open the windows to the back, and bring down the ladies before the fire reaches the upper stories. Hollo, signor trombadore! sound therally, my brave little man!"The poor boy was so terrified that his trumpet-call was only a feeble squeak; but the survivors of the company, about fifty in number, rushed from all quarters to the spot. A volley of musketry announced that our marines had opened on the assailants."Let us sally out—away with the barricades!" cried Lieutenant Caraffa; and we rushed forth with charged bayonets, eager to revenge the slaughter and devastation of the night. The regular fire of a hundred marines from the terrace—to which Santugo led them by a secret passage from the grottoes below—threw the revolters into a panic; and their discomfiture was completed by a strong detachment of seamen, headed by Hanfield the gallant captain of theDelight, whom Sir Sidney had sent in command of the expedition. Rushing over the lawn with a wild hurrah, they fell slashing and thrusting with cutlass and pike among the recoiling rabble of the barone; who, abandoning their two six-pounder guns, fled,en masse, with rapidity: but fighting every step of the way towards the mountains, and firing on us from behind every bush and rock which afforded momentary concealment. In the pursuit I encountered the formidable Scarolla, who fired both his pistols at me without effect, as I rushed upon him with my sabre: clubbing his rifle, he swung it round his head with a force sufficiently formidable; but watching an opportunity when he overstruck himself, I sabred him above the left eye, and beat him to the ground; when some of his followers made a rally and carried him off."Viva Guiseppe!" cried a well-known voice close by me; and looking round, I beheld the little author of all the mischief, struggling in the grasp of a seaman; whom, by his embroidered anchors, I recognised as boatswain of theDelight. He was not much taller than his antagonist, the barone, but strong and thickset, with the chest and shoulders of an ox; an ample sunburnt visage, surmounted by a little glazed hat, and fringed by a circular beard of black wiry hair below, his cheek distended by a quid, and an enormous pig-tail reaching below his waist-belt, made him seem a very formidable antagonist to Guelfo; whom, he had knocked down, and over whom he was flourishing his heavy cutlass, squirting a little tobacco-juice into his eyes from time to time."Maladetto!" growled the Italian lord, "O, povero voi, Signor Marinero!""Avast, old Gingerbread! I speak none of your foreign lingos," replied the boatswain.Flushed with rage and disappointment, the barone struggled furiously with his strong antagonist, who held him at arms' length, in doubt whether to cleave him down or let him go; till Zaccheo, the Greek, approached, and, ere I could interfere, ended the matter, by driving his couteau-de-chasse through the heart of Guelfo, who expired without a groan.By daybreak, the fighting was over. A poor little midshipman and several seamen were killed; a hundred of our mad assailants lay dead in the quadrangle, and as many more round the terrace. In the villa, half its garrison lay killed or wounded around the windows, from which the flames and smoke rolled forth in mighty volumes; many were roasted or consumed before we could remove them: poor old Gismondo with the rest. Hanfield ordered his men to save the villa from further destruction; but the flames had gathered such force, that for a time every effort seemed fruitless. Assisted by three boats' crews from the flag-ship, they pulled down a part of the mansion, and turned the water of thejets d'eauon the rest, to prevent the fire (which was confined to one wing) from spreading to the main building. After an hour of toil and danger, during which I worked away in my shirt-sleeves until I was as black as a charcoal-burner, the flames were suppressed: but how changed was the aspect of the once splendid villa!One portion of the building was roofless and ruined: its lofty casements shattered, its corbelled balconies, tall pillars, and rich Corinthian entablatures, scorched by fire, and blackened by smoke; the ravaged gardens and terraces were strewn with corpses, the halls, saloons, and corridors, encumbered with the same ghastly objects, splashed with blood, and filled with confusion and destruction; pier-glasses, vases, and statues, were dashed to pieces, hangings and pictures rent and torn. The quiet library and elegant boudoir rang with the cries of the wounded, or the reckless merriment of the sailors, who caroused on the richest wines. But Santugo looked around him with the most perfectsang froid.Twenty prisoners we had captured were sent over to Palermo, where they expiated their revolt in the horrible dungeons of the Damusi,—the most frightful perhaps in the world, where their bones are probably lying at this hour.
CHAPTER IV.
CASTELGUELFO—THE WOLF OF AMATO.
By the barone, a short and meagre little man of a most forbidding aspect, we were received with all due honour and courtesy, and without being recognised; but his residence was so full of armed men, that it could scarcely afford us accommodation, ample though its towers and corridors seemed to be.
"These are Lucchesi, the most hideous provincials of Italy; those wanderers who spread over all Europe with organs and monkeys," whispered Ortensia, as we passed through the court, which was crowded with the most savage-looking fellows imaginable. Many were half naked, or clad only in the skins of sheep and lynxes, beneath which might be seen the remains of a ragged shirt, a tattered vest, or breeches, once red or yellow; their legs and feet were bare; some had old battered hats, or red slouched caps: but the greater number had only their shock heads of hair, bleached by the weather till it was coarse as a charger's mane, and overhanging their gaunt ferocious visages, grim with starvation and misery: which ever accompanied French invasion. A few wore the gallant bandit costume of the south, and all were carousing, and filling the hollow towers, the dark arcades, and echoing corridors with bursts of brutal laughter to lighten their work: for all were busy, polishing rifle and pistol locks, and grinding the blades of sabres, poniards, and pikes. My fair companions shrank with dismay from the hall windows when they viewed the assemblage below, and even I did not feel quite at ease; especially after seeing about two hundred stand ofFrencharms and accoutrements ranged along the vestibule.
"Signor Barone, you keep a strong garrison here," said I, smiling, while we surveyed the motley crew of ruffians from a lofty oriel; "do you expect Massena to pass the Amato soon?"
"That would be superb!" replied he, with a grin, which revealed his ample and wolfish jaws. "No, no, 't is only my good friend Scarolla, the valiant captain of four hundred free companions, who is here with his band: we are bound on a little piece of service together. Ha! ha! if that fool Belcastro had not poisoned himself instead of the Maltese Knight, he would have been here too."
At that moment Scarolla approached: I attentively surveyed the celebrated bandit-chief, whose name, in the annals of Italian ferocity, stands second only to that of Mammone, "the blood-quaffer." He was above six feet high, and moulded like a Hercules; dark as that of a Negro, his mean visage announced him a Lucchese; long black hair hung down his back, and a thick beard fringed his chin. The band of his ample beaver, his velvet jacket and mantello were covered with the richest embroidery, and a silver hilted poniard glittered in his waist-belt. His brows were knit and lowering, his eyes keen and sinister: the ladies trembled beneath the bold scrutiny of his glance, and shrank close to my side for protection while the withered little barone introduced us.
"Signor Inglese, the valiant Capitano Scarolla; brave men ought to know each other: you are both captains, remember."
"Serving under different leaders," I replied, while bowing, and repressing a scornful smile.
"Superba!" cried the little barone, laughing and rubbing his hands; but Scarolla's brows knit closer, and his eyes kindled at my inuendo.
The hall was now lighted by several tall candelabra; their lustre was reflected from the gilded columns and pendants of the lofty roof, and the frames of dark, gloomy, and mysterious portraits of the ancient Guelfi; who seemed scowling from their pannels on their degenerate descendant and his unworthy confederate.
That ancient apartment, when viewed as I beheld it, one-half bathed in warm light, and the other sunk in cold shadow, seemed the very scene of a romance; to which the graceful figures of the Signora del Castagno and her sister, and the picturesque garb of the tall Scarolla gave additional effect. Now were appropriate sounds wanting; for a storm raged in the valley below, thunder growled in the mountains above, and the rain rushed like hail on the casements; the painted traceries of which were often lit by fitful gleams of the moon or the blue forked lightning, as it shot from hill to hill.
Uneasy in the presence of Scarolla, the ladies, after a slight refreshment, withdrew to repose; promising to be up with the lark for our journey to-morrow.
When travelling, or on active service, one is compelled to accommodate oneself to every kind of society, place, and circumstance; and upon this philosophical principle, I made myself quite at home, and supped merrily with the barone and bandit: of whom the servants stood in the greatest awe. Supper over, wine was produced: however abstemious the Italians may be, I saw no sign of the national trait that night, at Castelguelfo; where we drank the richest continental wines, emptying the decanters in rapid succession, as if we had been three Germans drinking for a wager.
Rendered mellow by his potations, our host became talkative; and, in spite of the nods and contemptuous frowns of the impatient Scarolla, informed me that he was collecting men to make a political demonstration, of which I should soon hear at Palermo—an attack on a powerful feudatory, with whom he had a deadly quarrel, which the presence of our army only smothered for a time.
"It will be superb," grinned the barone. "I hate him with the stern bitterness of a thorough old Calabrese. Thrice has he crossed me at court: he caused Ferdinand to regard me with coldness and jealousy, and when all the nobles of the province received the order of San Constantino, I alone was left undecorated; and my name, the oldest in Naples, was forgotten. We have now the country to ourselves; and taking advantage of the lull, all Italy, from Scylla to the Alps, shall ring with my retribution. Yesterday, Crotona was abandoned to the Calabri; the soldiers who fought and won at Maida have all withdrawn, and there is no one to mar my revenge. O, it will be signal! In their king's service, the followers of my foe are all in garrison at Reggio; and his residence is unprotected. I have a hundred sbirri well mounted, armed and faithful; Scarolla has four hundred of the bravest rogues that ever levelled a rifle. Superba! Loyal visconte, beware the fangs of the Wolf! Per Baccho! there shall be a modern feud between the Guelfi and Alfieri, famous as that they had of old—ha! ha!"
"The Villa D'Alfieri is then the point of attack," said I.
"Superba!" screamed the little barone, who was becoming more inebriated: "yes; I will clothe its walls in flames; and if blood can quench them, then so shall they be quenched. Yea, in blood, shed where my ancestor's yet cries for vengeance. Viva Guesippe Buonaparte!"
"One alone shall be spared, excellency;" remarked Scarolla, who was also becoming excited.
"So I have promised you, prince of rogues, as the price of your services. The plunder of the villa belongs to your followers; and to you falls that glorious prize, the theme of our improvisatori, the pride of the Calabrias——"
"Bianca D'Alfieri!" added Scarolla, his eyes lighting with insolent triumph.
"Superb! is she not?" laughed the barone.
"God curse you both," I muttered; instinctively feeling for my sabre, and gulping down my wine, to hide the passion that boiled within me. I thanked Heaven that they knew not of Gismondo and his company; by whom I hoped the villa would be saved from this revengeful rebel.
"When does the attack take place, signor?"
"To-morrow, at midnight. We will burn a light at St. Eufemio that will astonish the good citizens of Messina, and scare Fata Morgana in her ocean palace. You are on your way to Palermo?"
I bowed.
"Say, when you get there, that Castelguelfo is in league with Regnier, has burned the grand bailiff, and hoisted the standard of Guiseppe of Naples: cospetto! the cross of the iron crown will outweigh the star of Constantine!"
"Success to the expedition, signori," said I, drinking to conceal my anger and confusion. "Faith! this is quite a revival of that ancient feud, of which the improvisatori sing so much."
"And long will they sing of the diabolical treachery of the Alfieri."
"Signor, I would gladly hear the relation."
"You shall, in a few words. You have heard of the famous fighting Dominican Campanella, who, in 1590, raised the banner of revolt in the Calabrias: my ancestor, Barone Amadeo, disgusted by Spanish misrule, joined him with three hundred men-at-arms; but these were all defeated and slaughtered by the followers of the then Visconte Santugo, on the same field of Maida where you so lately vanquished Regnier. Then commenced the quarrel between the Guelfi and the Alfieri; which, though we never came to blows, has survived for two centuries, and has settled down into coldness, mistrust, and jealousy, intriguing at court and petty squabbling at home. We are old-fashioned people here; but France holds out civilization and regeneration to us. Well, Messer Amadeo was defeated, and Santugo gave his castle to the flames, so that the Wolf of Amato might have nowhere to lay his head. An outcast, deserted by his followers and abandoned by all, he wandered long in the wild forest of St. Eufemio, until, reduced to the last extremities of hunger and despair, he resolved to throw himself upon the generosity of his triumphant enemy; and knocking at the gate of the castle of Santugo, craved the insolent porter to admit him to the visconte's presence. He was absent, fighting against Campanella; but Theodelinde of Bova, his young wife, resided at the castle during his campaign.
"Gaunt, from long continued misery, overgrown with a mass of beard and hair—clad in the skins of his namesake the wolf instead of the knightly Milan steel, and grasping a knotted staff in lieu of the bright-bladed falchion of Ferrara—Messer Amadeo had more the aspect of an ancient satyr than a Neapolitan cavalier.
"'Madonna mia!" cried Theodelinde, with dismay, 'Who art thou?'
"'Signora, thou beholdest Guelfo, the persecuted lord of Amato, who is come to cast himself at thy feet. My territories spread from the Tyrrhene to the Adriatic Sea; they have passed away, my people are destroyed, my castle is ruined, and I have nowhere to lay my head, save in the grave. Though thy husband's foe, take pity upon me, gentle signora! I am perishing with want; for the ban of God and the king are upon me, and no man dares to give me a morsel of bread or a cup of water.'
"Gentle in spirit, and milder in blood than our Italian dames, Theodelinde came of an old Albanian race; and, moved with pity, wept to behold a warrior of such high courage and birth reduced to such exceeding misery. Enjoining her maidens to secrecy, she provided him with food and raiment, and concerted means for his escape into Greece. The unfortunate Amadeo was grateful, and, touched with her generosity, swore on the cross that he would forgive the visconte for all the persecutions to which he had subjected him. That night he retired to rest in peace, beneath the roof of his deadliest enemy.
"Long exhaustion caused a deep slumber to sink upon his eyelids, and he heard not the clang of hoofs and the clash of steel ringing in the wide quadrangle, announcing that Santugo had returned, flushed with victory and triumph; his sword reeking with the blood of the revolters. Theodelinde rushed forth to meet her husband, and their meeting was one of joy: her tears of happiness fell on the steel corslet of the stern visconte, and he too rejoiced; for the Spanish king had promised to bestow upon him all the possessions of Amadeo, if before the festival of the Annunciation, which was but three days distant, he placed the Wolf's head on the high altar of St. Eufemio.
"The gentle viscontessa knew not of this bloody compact; but presuming on the joy and tenderness displayed by her husband, and shrinking from aught that resembled duplicity, she led him to the chamber of Amadeo. He was reposing on a stately couch, and fitfully the beams of the night-lamp fell on his pale forehead and noble features. He started, awoke, and saw—what? Theodelinde by his bed-side, with her stern husband clad in complete armour. Santugo, his barred visor up, regarded him with a lowering visage; while he grasped a heavy zagaglia, such as our estradiots used of old, and which glittered deadly like the eyes of him who held it. Then Theodelinde knew, by the glare of that terrible eye, that Amadeo was lost, and she sank upon her knees.
"'Oh, pity him and spare him for my sake: spare him if you love me, my husband.'
"But the ruthless Alfieri heard her not—saw her not: he beheld only the aggrandisement of his power, and hearkened only to the whisperings of avarice and enmity. Amadeo leaped up; but his foe was too swift for him. Hurled with equal force and dexterity, the zagaglia flew hissing from Santugo's hand, and its broad barbed head cleft the skull, and lay quivering in the brain of Amadeo. Theodelinde sank down on the floor in horror; while the visconte cut off the head with his poniard, and knitting the locks to his baldrick, galloped to the church of St. Eufemio, where he flung the gory trophy on the altar. The ghastly skull remained there on a carved stone bracket, for half a century; until the cathedral of St. Eufemio was destroyed, on the anniversary of the deed, by the earthquake of 1638. Those who viewed its fall beheld a spectacle which was beyond description terrible! The earth yawned, and the stately church with its three tall taper spires; its pinnacles, rich with gothic carving; its windows, sparkling with light and gorgeous with tracery; its massive battlements and echoing aisles, sank slowly into the flaming abyss,—down, down, until the gilded cross on the tallest pinnacle vanished. Convents, stately palaces, and streets sank down with it, and where St. Eufemio stood, there lay a vast black fetid lake, rolling its dark sulphurous waves in the light of the summer moon. Ho! ho! what a tomb for the skull of the Wolf!
"The Guelfi were landless outcasts, until, by the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, Naples passed away from Spanish domination; and under Charles of Parma, my father recovered the old possessions of our house: now, in imitation of Amadeo, I am ready for revolt; and, with every chance of success, to-morrow shall unroll the banner of Joseph of Naples, whom Madonna bless! To-morrow, let the Alfieri and loyalists beware! I will not spare even the linnet in the cage, or the dog that sleeps on the hearth. Drink, Scarolla, to the Signora Bianca; who by to-morrow eve will be hailed as thy gay capitanessa!"
But Scarolla heard him not: his head had fallen forward on his breast, and long ere the host's story was concluded, he was snoring with the force of a trombone.
CHAPTER V.
HAPPINESS.
By daybreak next morning we were clear of the castello; for we quitted its walls while its ruffian inmates were buried in slumber. I was happy when the ladies were mounted, and once more on the road; having been under considerable apprehension for their safety: dreading, perhaps, our detention as royalist prisoners in the barone's residence.
"A rough night the last for a march, signor," said I to Captain Gismondo, whom we found parading the Calabri in the street of Amato.
"A tempest, signor! the blue glare of the lightning alone revealed to us that foaming river which we forded, the water rising to our waist-belts; and the rain that rushed down from heaven was every drop large enough to beat in our drumheads."
Ordering the company to march by a solitary and long forgotten road, towards St. Eufemio, I informed Gismondo and my fair charge of the diabolical plan laid by the barone and his revolters to destroy the villa, and assign the innocent Bianca to the wretch Scarolla as the price of his co-operation. Her sisters shrieked with terror, and old Battista gave me a stern smile while laying his hand on his sword.
"I know a path across the mountains, signor; I travelled it once to Monteleone: my little daughter was with me then;" he sighed deeply. "By Ave Maria this evening our good friends the Alfieri will have a hundred and fifty bayonets at their disposal. Compagna! threes right, quick march!" and we moved off with rapidity.
Marching by the most retired roads, we made a circuit among the mountains to deceive the barone, if any of his scouts should have followed us. The evening sun was casting the long shadows of the lofty hills of Nicastro across the woods and valleys of St. Eufemio, the waters of the bay were rolling in their usual varied tints of sparkling blue, and the eve was so calm and still, that the dash of the lonely breakers, as they flowed on the sandy beach, was heard many miles from the shore; mingling with the solemn hymn of the Sicilian mariners, and the crews of those picturesque feluccas which spread their striped latteen sails to the breezes of the strait.
Leaving Gismondo with his company to follow, I pushed on with the ladies at full gallop towards the villa: they were both expert horsewomen, and quite outstripped me, as we flew along the sandy marino. Their merry laughter and taunting cries of "Fi! fi! Signor Capitano," were very galling to me; for I was considered the best horseman (except Lascelles) on the Sicilian staff, and had twice won the regimental and brigade cup at the Palermitan races.
"On my honour! ladies, if I held the reins of my brave English grey instead of those of a chubby Calabrian horse, you would not have distanced me thus," said I, when they halted to let me come up with them.
The battery erected by the soldiers of Sir Louis de Watteville was now abandoned and demolished; the cannon were away, and the platforms overgrown with luxuriant grass. How stirringly my time had passed since the morning when our army landed on the beach close by!
The moment we rode into the quadrangle of the villa, the clattering hoofs roused the whole household, as the blast of a trumpet would have done. To be brief: great was the joy diffused by our arrival. We disturbed the old viscontessa from cards, with which she was rapidly gaining from old Adriano all the ducats she had paid at confessional an hour before for peccadilloes. The young visconte, pale and worn with long illness of mind and body, received the trembling Francesca to his arms as if she had been restored to him from the tomb. The Italians are peculiarly exciteable, and his transports were wild in the extreme. He had expected to behold his bride no more; and now she was hanging on his bosom, free, happy, and more beautiful than ever. As I had long foreseen, he placed in my hand that of his blushing cousin, Bianca; while the venerable viscontessa wept and prayed with joy, scattered a handful of cards and counters over us, in her confusion, and embraced us by turns. The whole household, male and female, from Andronicus the chasseur to the little ragazzo who turned the spits, joined in a general chorus of joy; they commenced the furious tarantella in the quadrangle, and the whole mansion rang with shouts: which were soon to be changed for those of a less agreeable nature.
Around the white neck of Bianca, I threw the riband with the gold medal presented to me by Cardinal York, whose kindness had restored Francesca to light and life; and the sweet girl kissed it, promising to treasure it for his sake and mine. She appeared so beautiful, so blooming and happy, as she hung upon my shoulder in the recess of a lofty window, with the light of the western sky streaming on her bright curls and glittering dress; and Santugo seemed so much absorbed in the presence of her sister, who was seated between him and his mother, with a hand clasped fondly by each; that I was loath to disturb the happy group and blight their general joy, by speaking of Guelfo: but the appearance of Gismondo's company marching along the marino, and the advanced hour of the evening, made it imperative that arrangements should be made for fighting or flying. All changed colour when I mentioned Castelguelfo: Santugo's brow grew black, and his mother burst into tears.
"O, Luigi! to remain would be madness, when Giacomo and all our people are serving as soldiers at Reggio!" she exclaimed.
"It ill beseems you, signora, to counsel me to my dishonour;" replied the fierce young man, with singular hauteur, while his lip quivered and his dark eyes shone with fire. "Like all the family of Amato, Dionisio is a coward at heart, and a rebel Buonapartist; and shall I, who am esteemed among the bravest and most patriotic of our noblesse, fly before a base leaguer with banditti? Never! With Gismondo's Calabri, and the armed men I can collect on an hour's notice, to the last will I defend my father-house; fighting from chamber to chamber and story to story, and die rather than yield, even should Guelfo involve the whole fabric in flames and destruction."
"Ammirando!" exclaimed Gismondo, entering, "you speak as I expected to hear the son of my old comrade; whose honours you will never tarnish. Courage, ladies! One hundred and fifty bayonets are here, under my orders; and with Madonna's blessing, and our own hands, the Wolf may fall into as great a snare as old Amadeo did in the days of poor Campanella."
The viscontessa shuddered: but her son took down his sword from the wall.
"Dundas," said he; "to you, who are a soldier of greater experience than any here (not even excepting our old guerilla, Gismondo), I look principally for advice during this night's uproar. Come, signor, leave Bianca, and loosen your sabre in its sheath. Ladies, away to your mandolins and embroidery, or to ave and credo; your presence alone unmans me. Ola, Zaccheo! where the devil is my old courier tarrying now? Bolt and barricade every door and window, and muster and arm the valets. Even the little ragazzo must handle a musket to-night."
"Had we not better send a horseman to the Royal Reggitore of Nicastro for aid?"
"An insolent Sicilian dog!" replied Santugo. "No, no; we must trust to Heaven and our own bravery."
Land and ocean had grown dark, or what is deemed so in fair Ausonia. The bright stars studding the whole firmament, and the pale silver moon rising over the dark green ridges of the wooded hills, shed their mystic light on cape and bay over Amato's frowning rocks and flowing river; illuminating the tall round tower, the broad façade, and many arcades of the Villa D'Alfieri, and bathing in silver the orange woods around it.
Before the hour of the projected attack, we had all prepared for defence; and our arrangements had been made for a vigorous one: every door, window, and aperture were strongly barred and barricaded; piles of furniture, statues, cushions, ottomans, massive tomes from the library, and everything suitable, were pressed into the service; forming barriers in the passages and on stair-landings, in case of an assault. Ere midnight tolled from the sonorous old clock in the quadrangle, all the ladies and their attendants were stowed away in the attic story, and one hundred and eighty men were stationed at the different posts assigned them below. Gismondo commanded one wing of the mansion; his lieutenant and Alfiero, two cavaliers of the House of Bisignano, the other; while Santugo and myself occupied the centre.
The soldiers were so well posted, that the different approaches to the villa were completely enfiladed; while that by the quadrangle would be exposed to a deadly cross fire from fifty windows. In this order we awaited the revolters.
On making my rounds, to see that all were on the alert, I visited the ladies; who, in the attic story of the old round tower, were quite secure from musketry. The old viscontessa was on her knees praying: she had relinquished her cards for "The Litanies of our Blessed Lady;" and a crowd of female domestics knelt around her. Bianca and her sisters were clustered together, with arms entwined, like three beautiful graces; but looking pale and terrified: awaiting the strife with beating hearts and eyes suffused with tears.
"Dearest Claude!" said she whose gentle voice I loved best, "for God's sake! O, for my sake! do not expose yourself heedlessly to danger."
"Courage, dear one," said I, putting an arm playfully round her; "we must all fight like the Trojans of old. Think of what will be the fate of us all—of yourself in particular—if Guelfo and his ruffian compeers capture the villa to-night. If I can put a bullet into the head of this new suitor, Scarolla—Tush, Bianca! ridiculous, is it not?" She made a sickly attempt to smile, but bowed her head on my shoulder and wept. I heard Santugo and his chasseur uttering my name, and calling aloud through various parts of the mansion; but I was too agreeably occupied to attend to them just then.
"Allerta!" cried Gismondo; and knowing the military warning, I hurried away to the scene of action.
"See you the rascals, signor?" said he, pointing from a barricaded window, to a dark mass moving along the distant roadway, and rapidly debouching into the lawn. They marched in the full glare of the moonlight, and the gleam of steel flashed incessantly from the shapeless column. They carried two standards, and one was a tri-color.
"Some of those Jacobin dogs are the iron miners of Stilo: they have long been stubborn traitors," said Santugo, in accents of rage.
"And bold Scarolla, so long the scourge of Frenchmen, why leagues he with villains such as these?"
"You forgot, signor," replied the young lord, with a grim smile, "that he is either to gain a noble bride, or an ounce bullet to-night."
CHAPTER VI.
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."
"Cannon!" I reiterated, and exchanged glances with Santugo. We were both astounded by the intelligence.
"O, Claude!" said my friend, "I tremble only for my mother, for Francesca and her sisters. For myself, per Baccho! you know I would fight, without a tremor, till roof and rafters, column and cupola, fell in ruins above me. Is all lost, then?'
"No," said I, speaking through my hand; for the noise of the conflict was deafening; "we may save the villa yet, and all its inmates: but a bold dash must be made. Look yonder! what see you?"
"I understand—the task is mine."
"Mine, rather."
"No, no, Signor Claude, I have Francesca at stake."
"And I, Bianca—we are equal."
"I care not. Ola, Andronicus! saddle my cavallo Barbero, and look well to girth and holster—quick, away, Signor Greco!"
What we saw was the British fleet, consisting of a gigantic ship of the line and three or four frigates and corvettes, standing slowly down the Straits of the Pharo, and keeping close in shore; attracted, probably, by the sound of the firing. I knew the flag-ship of Sir Sidney Smith, by its old-fashioned poop-lantern; and my project was to despatch a messenger on board, craving help. But how could one leave the villa? it was environed on one side by surf and steep rocks, shelving down to a whirlpool; on the other by fierce assailants who were merciless as the yawning sea.
Desperate was the venture: but that it must be attempted, we knew was imperative. A friendly contest ensued between us and the two Cavalieri Caraffa; each insisting on being the executor of the dangerous service. We contested the point so long, that it was at last referred to a throw of dice: the lot fell on Luigi; who prepared at once for the deadly mission, by divesting himself of his mantle, buttoning his short velvet surtout closely about him, and taking in three holes of his sword belt; while I hurriedly indited the following note to the admiral.
"VILLA D'ALFIERI.Sept.20*th*, 1808.
"Sir,
"I have the honour to request that you will order as strong a detachment of seamen or marines as you may deem necessary, to be landed at the villa of the Alfieri, which is closely besieged by the Baron of Castelguelfo, a Buonapartist, who is now at the head of a numerous force of Italian rebels. To protect the loyal family of the bearer, the Visconte di Santugo, I placed in the villa a company of the Free Corps, and have already to regret the loss of Captain Battista Gismondo, and nearly sixty rank and file. Our case is desperate. The villa will not be tenable one hour longer, as the barone (whom Regnier has supplied with all munition of war) is bringing two pieces of cannon against it, and our cartridges are totally expended. I have the honour, &c. &c.
"CLAUDE DUNDAS,Capt. 62d Regt."
Admiral Sir SIDNEY SMITH,H.M. shipPompey.
According to the fashion of many large Italian houses, the stables formed a part of the principal building; and so in the present emergency it was lucky that the horses were at hand. Santugo's black Barbary horse, with its red quivering nostrils, eyes sparkling fire, and its mane bristling at the noise of the musketry, was led by the Greek chasseur through a long corridor to a saloon which overlooked the grottoes by the sea-shore. The saddled steed was an unusual visitor in that noble apartment; where statues, vases, pictures, and sofas, were piled up in confusion to form barricades before six tall windows which faced the straits. One was open, revealing the bright sky, the sparkling sea, Sicilia's coast and the sailing fleet; while ten Calabri, with their bayonets at the charge, stood by to guard the aperture.
The brave young noble mounted, and stooping as he passed out, guided his horse along a ledge of slippery rock, and the casement was immediately secured behind him. We watched him with equal anxiety and admiration, as he rode along the perilous path, where one false step of the Barbary would have plunged him in the whirlpool, which roared and sucked in the foaming eddies, beneath the villa walls. The instant he passed the angle of the building which was swept by the fire of the assailants, there burst from them a simultaneous yell; which was answered by a shout of reckless defiance from the daring Santugo, who driving spurs into his fleet horse, compelled it to clear the high balustraded terrace by a flying leap. Then his long sword flashed in the moonlight as he slashed right and left, crying—"Viva Carolina! Ferdinando nostra e la Santa Fede!" cutting his way through the yelling mass, escaping bullet and steel as if he had a charmed life, he passed through them and was free; and I had no doubt would gain the village (where the boats lay) safely and rapidly.
Enraged at his escape, the revolters pressed on with renewed fury, but changed their mode of attack. A cloud now passed over the moon involving the scenery in comparative darkness; but it was soon to be illuminated in a manner I little expected.
There flashed forth a sudden glare of light, revealing the sea of ferocious visages and glancing arms of the enemy, the bloody terrace heaped with dead, the dark arcades, carved cornices, and lofty portico of the villa: a lurid glare shone over everything, and a man advanced to the terrace holding aloft an Indian sky-rocket; a terrible species of firework often used by the French. Its yellow blaze fell full upon the face of the bearer, in whom I recognised the villainous engineer, Navarre; I snatched a musket from the hand of a dead soldier, but ere it was aimed the traitor had shot the fiery missile from his hand and disappeared.
This terrible instrument of eastern warfare forced itself forward, roaring and blazing towards the villa, and breaking through a window, plunged about as if instinct with life, setting fire to everything inflammatory within its reach. From its size and weight, and the formation of its sides, which were bristling with spikes, it finally stuck fast to the flooring of a room; where its power of combustion increased every instant, and a succession of reports burst from it as its fire-balls flew off in every direction. All fled in dismay, to avoid being blown up by the sparks falling into their pouches, scorched to death by remaining in its vicinity, shot by its bullets, or stabbed by the spikes; which it shot forth incessantly, like quills from a "fretful porcupine."
In vain I cried for water: no one heard me; the diabolical engine bounded, roared, and hissed like a very devil, involving us in noisome and suffocating smoke; and in three minutes the magnificent villa was in flames, and its defenders paralysed.
"Superba!" cried the barone. "Viva Guiseppe!" and the triumphant yells of his enraged followers redoubled. I turned to the Cavalieri Caraffa.
"Gentlemen, keep your soldiers at their posts to the last," said I, "while I provide for the retreat of the ladies."
"How, signor?" asked Andronicus; "on every hand they environ us, save the seaward; where a whirlpool—O, omnipotente!"
At that moment we heard the report of a cannon; a round shot passed through the great door, demolishing in its passage a beautiful fountain of marble and bronze, and the water flowed in a torrent over the tessellated pavement, while musketry was discharged in quick succession through the breach. To augment our distress, the barone's guns had come up; and the triumphant cries, the ferocity and daring of the assailants increased as the hot flames grew apace around us. Shrieks now burst from the summit of the round tower: overwhelmed with anxiety and rage, and faint with the heat and smoke of the fire-arms and conflagration, I hurried up the great staircase to bring away the females, who could not remain five minutes longer: but where or how I was to convey them, Heaven only knew!
The moon, which had been obscured for some time, now shone forth with renewed lustre; and I saw the sea brightening like a silver flood, as the last clouds passed away from the shining orb. O, sight of joy! Three large boats filled with marines and seamen were at that moment pulled close under the rocks; to which they had advanced unseen by the foe. The headmost had already disappeared in the sea grottoes; and I heard the measured clank of the rowlocks, and saw the oar-blades of the sternmost barge flash like blue fire as they were feathered in true man-o'-war style. The boats shot under the rocks, like arrows: one moment the glittering moon poured its cold light on the glazed caps and bristling bayonets of the closely packed marines—on the bright pike-heads, the gleaming cutlasses, and little tarpaulins of the seamen—and the next, it shone on the lonely seething ocean.
"Saved, thank Heaven!" I exclaimed, rushing down the stair. "Bravo, soldateria! fight on, brave Calabri, for aid is near. Hollo, Zaccheo! throw open the windows to the back, and bring down the ladies before the fire reaches the upper stories. Hollo, signor trombadore! sound therally, my brave little man!"
The poor boy was so terrified that his trumpet-call was only a feeble squeak; but the survivors of the company, about fifty in number, rushed from all quarters to the spot. A volley of musketry announced that our marines had opened on the assailants.
"Let us sally out—away with the barricades!" cried Lieutenant Caraffa; and we rushed forth with charged bayonets, eager to revenge the slaughter and devastation of the night. The regular fire of a hundred marines from the terrace—to which Santugo led them by a secret passage from the grottoes below—threw the revolters into a panic; and their discomfiture was completed by a strong detachment of seamen, headed by Hanfield the gallant captain of theDelight, whom Sir Sidney had sent in command of the expedition. Rushing over the lawn with a wild hurrah, they fell slashing and thrusting with cutlass and pike among the recoiling rabble of the barone; who, abandoning their two six-pounder guns, fled,en masse, with rapidity: but fighting every step of the way towards the mountains, and firing on us from behind every bush and rock which afforded momentary concealment. In the pursuit I encountered the formidable Scarolla, who fired both his pistols at me without effect, as I rushed upon him with my sabre: clubbing his rifle, he swung it round his head with a force sufficiently formidable; but watching an opportunity when he overstruck himself, I sabred him above the left eye, and beat him to the ground; when some of his followers made a rally and carried him off.
"Viva Guiseppe!" cried a well-known voice close by me; and looking round, I beheld the little author of all the mischief, struggling in the grasp of a seaman; whom, by his embroidered anchors, I recognised as boatswain of theDelight. He was not much taller than his antagonist, the barone, but strong and thickset, with the chest and shoulders of an ox; an ample sunburnt visage, surmounted by a little glazed hat, and fringed by a circular beard of black wiry hair below, his cheek distended by a quid, and an enormous pig-tail reaching below his waist-belt, made him seem a very formidable antagonist to Guelfo; whom, he had knocked down, and over whom he was flourishing his heavy cutlass, squirting a little tobacco-juice into his eyes from time to time.
"Maladetto!" growled the Italian lord, "O, povero voi, Signor Marinero!"
"Avast, old Gingerbread! I speak none of your foreign lingos," replied the boatswain.
Flushed with rage and disappointment, the barone struggled furiously with his strong antagonist, who held him at arms' length, in doubt whether to cleave him down or let him go; till Zaccheo, the Greek, approached, and, ere I could interfere, ended the matter, by driving his couteau-de-chasse through the heart of Guelfo, who expired without a groan.
By daybreak, the fighting was over. A poor little midshipman and several seamen were killed; a hundred of our mad assailants lay dead in the quadrangle, and as many more round the terrace. In the villa, half its garrison lay killed or wounded around the windows, from which the flames and smoke rolled forth in mighty volumes; many were roasted or consumed before we could remove them: poor old Gismondo with the rest. Hanfield ordered his men to save the villa from further destruction; but the flames had gathered such force, that for a time every effort seemed fruitless. Assisted by three boats' crews from the flag-ship, they pulled down a part of the mansion, and turned the water of thejets d'eauon the rest, to prevent the fire (which was confined to one wing) from spreading to the main building. After an hour of toil and danger, during which I worked away in my shirt-sleeves until I was as black as a charcoal-burner, the flames were suppressed: but how changed was the aspect of the once splendid villa!
One portion of the building was roofless and ruined: its lofty casements shattered, its corbelled balconies, tall pillars, and rich Corinthian entablatures, scorched by fire, and blackened by smoke; the ravaged gardens and terraces were strewn with corpses, the halls, saloons, and corridors, encumbered with the same ghastly objects, splashed with blood, and filled with confusion and destruction; pier-glasses, vases, and statues, were dashed to pieces, hangings and pictures rent and torn. The quiet library and elegant boudoir rang with the cries of the wounded, or the reckless merriment of the sailors, who caroused on the richest wines. But Santugo looked around him with the most perfectsang froid.
Twenty prisoners we had captured were sent over to Palermo, where they expiated their revolt in the horrible dungeons of the Damusi,—the most frightful perhaps in the world, where their bones are probably lying at this hour.