Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy. Henty George Alfred

Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy - Henty George Alfred


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of the city might be burnt. The professor had similarly sent away his very valuable collection of coins, books, and manuscripts. At nine o’clock they went down to the mansion that Garibaldi occupied. A long discussion took place, and routes were decided upon for the various contingents to follow when the alarm was given. News had been brought in from time to time during the day as to the movements of the French, and the point at which they would probably assault was therefore now known. It would be either at the Porta Cavalleggieri or at the Porta San Pancrazio.

      Captain Percival and the professor returned to the former’s house, where the professor had taken up his residence since his wife had gone to Leghorn, and sat talking until a late hour. They were roused early the next morning by the ringing of the great bells of the cathedral, which were joined almost immediately by those of all the other churches in the city. Captain Percival had lain down fully dressed, and springing to his feet, he buckled on a sword, placed a brace of pistols in his belt, and then ran down to the Porta San Pancrazio, where, as he knew, Garibaldi would take up his post. The general, indeed, had not slept at all, but, fearful that the French might attempt an assault under cover of darkness, kept watch round the western wall, along which he had posted the men he could most depend upon. Even before the Englishman joined Garibaldi the roar of the guns on the wall told that the French were already advancing.

      “It is like old times, comrade,” Garibaldi said, with a strong grip of his hand, “only it is on a larger scale than we were accustomed to in South America. Oudïnot is beginning with a blunder, for he is making for the Porta Cavalleggieri, which is flanked by the walls of the Vatican. He is over-confident, and I do not imagine that he expects anything like a serious resistance. I think we shall certainly beat him back there, and that then he will attack us here. Will you go to the other gate? All my old comrades know you, and, indeed, all the volunteers, as you have assisted to drill them.”

      Oudïnot, indeed, had believed that the force of regular troops he had with him would easily brush aside the resistance of a half-armed mob.

      Captain Percival hurried away. The volunteers were already gathered on the walls, and in every street the townspeople were hurrying out, armed with weapons of all kinds. On the roofs and at the windows of the houses women were clustered thickly, waving their handkerchiefs and scarves, and shouting words of encouragement and applause to the men. To the roar of cannon was now added the rattle of musketry. When he reached the gate he found a heavy column of volunteers drawn up there, while behind them was a dense crowd of excited citizens. From the wall he saw the French advancing; the leading regiment was but a few hundred yards away. They were moving steadily forward, apparently heedless of the cannon that thundered on their flank and face. The musketry they could afford to despise, for they were beyond the distance at which any accurate shooting was possible; and, indeed, the firing was of the wildest description, as comparatively few of the men had ever handled a gun until a few weeks previously. Captain Percival went up to the officer who was in command, and with whom he was well acquainted. Although the massive walls still stood, the gates had long since disappeared, their places being occupied simply by barriers, where the duty on provisions and goods coming into the city was collected.

      “The men are clamouring to be let out,” he said. “What do you think, Captain Percival?”

      “I should let them go soon. They are full of dash and enthusiasm at present, and would fight far better on the offensive than they would if they are kept stationary. I should keep them in hand till the French are within seventy or eighty yards of the gate. By that time they will be answering the fire from the walls, and even those in the front lines, whose muskets are still loaded, will only have time for one shot before our men are upon them. I should place three or four hundred of your steadiest men on the wall here, so that if the sortie is repulsed, they can cover the retreat by their fire.”

      “I think that is good advice,” the other said. “Will you come down with me, and tell them that they shall go, but that they must not move till I give the order, and that no man is to fire until he is within ten yards of the enemy’s line.”

      It was difficult to make their voices heard above the crack of musketry and the shouts of the excited crowd; however, their words were passed from man to man, and so back among the people behind. Now that they knew that they were to have their way, and that the critical movement was at hand, the shouting abated, and a stern look of determination settled on their faces. Leonard Percival joined a group of officers who were at the head of the volunteers, and the officer in command resumed his place on the wall, as it was all-important that, if the sortie were repulsed, he should lead his men down and oppose the entrance of the enemy until the retiring force had rallied.

      It was not long before a roll of musketry broke out, showing that the assailants were now returning the fire of the Garibaldians on the wall. It grew louder and louder; and then, when the head of the French column was some eighty yards away, the officer on the wall gave the order, and the volunteers followed by the citizens poured out with a mighty shout. The French halted for a moment in surprise, not having dreamt that the defenders of the town would venture upon sallying out to attack them. Then there was a scattered fire of musketry; but most of the barrels were already empty, and few of the balls took effect. Without replying, the volunteers rushed forward, opening out as they ran to something like order. When within ten yards of the French bayonets every man delivered his fire, and then hurled himself upon the broken ranks. The struggle was a short one. The weight and impetuosity of the attack, supported as it was by a surging crowd of excited citizens, was irresistible, and the regiment broke and fled hastily to the shelter of the troops following it, leaving the ground strewn with dead and wounded. Then the bugles at the gate rang out the order to the exulting crowd to retire. The officers threw themselves in front of the men, and with great difficulty checked the pursuit, and caused them to withdraw to their original position behind the wall.

      CHAPTER II.

      A DESPERATE DEFENCE

      AFTER a short halt the French, having re-formed, changed their course and marched along parallel to the fortifications. Captain Percival had, on returning from the sortie, joined the officer on the wall, and watched alternately the movements of the French and the scene in the city. This was one of wild excitement – the men cheering and shouting, shaking each other by the hand, placing their hats on their bayonets, and waving them in answer to the wild applause of the women on the housetops. Some, however, were not content at being called back, instead of being allowed to complete what they considered their partial victory; forgetting that they would have been met in a very different manner by the troops in support, who would have been prepared for the attack and would have reserved their fire until the last moment. As soon as it became evident that the French intended to make their next move against the gate of San Pancrazio, the greater portion of the volunteers marched in that direction, Captain Percival accompanying them.

      “You have done well so far,” Garibaldi said, as he joined them. “Now it will be our turn, and we shall have tougher work than you had, for they will be prepared. I suppose your loss was not heavy?”

      “Very trifling indeed; there were but three dead brought in, and there were some ten or twelve wounded.”

      “It was just the sort of action to raise the spirits of the men, and they are all in the humour for fighting. I shall therefore lead them out here. But we cannot hope to succeed with a rush as you did – they will be prepared for us this time; the best men would be killed before we reached them, and the mass behind, but few of whom have guns, would be simply massacred.”

      The volunteers, who had undergone a rough sort of drill, were assembled before the French had concluded their preparations for an assault. Garibaldi appointed Captain Percival to take charge of the gate, having with him two hundred of the volunteers, behind whom were the armed citizens. These clamoured to go out as before; but Garibaldi raised his hand for silence, and then told them that he would not lead them to a useless massacre against an army of well-armed soldiers.

      “Your duty,” he said, “is to remain here. If we have to fall back, you will open to let us pass. We shall be ready to do our share when necessary; but the defence of the gate will be for a while entrusted to you. If the enemy force an entrance, fall upon them as you would upon wild beasts; their discipline and their arms would be of no great advantage


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