Along these heights and passes, I stationed strong bodies of armed Calabrese, entrusting the defence of the Solano to the Cavaliere di Casteluccio; who, since his escape, had distinguished himself on a thousand occasions: so miraculous were his adventures, that the superstitious provincials believed he had been rendered bullet-proof by the witches of Amato. But so overwhelming was the force of Regnier, that all attempts to bar the passage of his train proved, ultimately, unavailing. On the last day of that eventful year, the glitter of arms and the pale white smoke of musketry were seen spreading over the Milia Hills; between the peaks of which the morning sun poured down his strong and ruddy light on the scene of contest. The drums beat, and we got under arms. Our Calabrian out-picquets and fatigue-parties were driven down from the mountains by three battalions of French infantry, led by General Milette, and were pursued by four squadrons of hussars until close under cover of our twenty-four-pounders. Regnier was now in complete possession of those important heights; and his working parties were daily and nightly employed in repairing or forming roads for the conveyance of their battering train from Seminara. Their operations were retarded and rendered perilous by the incessant attacks of the followers of Casteluccio and Francatripa; but a damper was given to our zeal by the surrender of a numerous garrison at Reggio, where an Italian force, under the Prince of St. Agata, capitulated after a brief resistance. The castle of St. Amanthea, a property of the Prince di Bisignano, was captured by assault, after a desperate defence by the gay Captain Piozzi: he was slain by a cannon-ball, and thus the fair and fickle Despina was once more left a widow. On—on pressed the foe. The banner of Ferdinand IV. had sunk from every rampart in Calabria, save the solitary stronghold of Scylla. We found ourselves alone, and could hope for little from resistance; as all the forces of Massena were pouring southward, with orders to capture it at every risk of life and expense of blood. Every night the sky was streaked with fire, showing where Favazina, Fiumara, San Batello, and many a hamlet were given to the flames, after being ravaged by the foragers of the enemy; and every breeze bore past us the cries of slaughtered men and the shrieks of miserable women. The fall of Reggio was first announced to us by seeing Santugo’s battalion of the Calabri retreating upon Scylla in solid square, pursued by cavalry, and galled by three curricle guns; which followed them at a gallop and were discharged from every eminence that afforded an opportunity of sending a shot into the retiring column: on its arrival, it occupied the half-ruined town below us.