The Capsina: An Historical NovelBenson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
History
The Capsina: An Historical Novel
Benson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
Greece -- History -- War of Independence, 1821-1829 -- Fiction
Meantime the check given to the first division of the cavalry at the
barricade had resulted in a congestion all down the advancing lines.
The second division had closed up with the first, the third with the
second, and on the heels of the cavalry came the infantry. Dramali,
who was stationed in the rear still, almost on the plain of Argos, had
ordered them to advance, at all costs, till they gained the top of
the pass, whence they could intrench themselves on the open ground,
and every moment added a crust to the congealment of destruction. The
masses of those moving on from behind pushed the first rank forward
and forward, all squeezed together, and pressing against the wall
of barricade, as a river in flood presses against the arches of a
bridge. At two or three points it had been entirely broken down, and
through these--now free for a moment, now choked again with the bodies
of horses and their riders--a few escaped through the first ranks of
Mainats and into the road beyond, raked indeed by the other ranks, who
held the pass higher up, but no longer exposed to the full threefold
short range fire from Niketas, the barrier, and those in ambush on the
left. Already the wall of dead and dying was heaped higher than the
barricade that the Mainats had raised, and the horses of the Turks
who forced their way through trampled on the bodies of the fallen.
But pass they must, for they were forced forward, as by some hideous,
slow-moving glacier, by a stream of dead and living. Here and there a
dead horse carrying a dead rider was borne on upright and unable to
fall because of those who pressed so closely on each side, the rider
bowed forward over the neck of his horse or sprawling sideways across
the knee of his fellow, the horse's head supported on the quarters of
the beast in front or wedged between it and the next. More terrible
even was some other brute, wounded and screaming, but unable to move
except as it was moved and carried along for some seconds perhaps, till
two or three of those in front forced their way through the breaches in
the barricade of horses and riders and gave it space, so that it fell
and was mercifully trampled out of pain and life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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