The Sun.
London, England, 1864-01-25 00:00:00

The Execution of Colonel Bechi.

Florence—as we learn from a letter from that city
—is mourning the loss of Colonel Bechi, a Tuscan
officer, who has died in the cause of Poland. He
had fought under Charles Albert an'd Victor Em-
manuel, and appears to have been greatly beloved
by his countrymen. When taken by the Russians
in a skirmish in Poland, it seems that efforts were
made to obtain his reprieve, but General Berg
peremptorily ordered his execution. He was ac-
cordingly shot on the 17th December. The night
before his execution, a number of Polish ladies were
allowed to remain with him in his cell. These ladies,
in a letter to I3echi's widow, say :—'s On the last day
and night previous to his execution we were per-
mitted to remain in your husband's company. We
had occasion to admire the noblest of human beings,
whose fate we this day have to deplore ES though
we mourned the loss of a brother and friend. Pare
as an angel was he ; notable for his misfortuces ; of
an imperturbable gentleness, which moved to pity
even his fierce gaolers ; indulgent towards others and
valorous ; sublime in hisenthusiasm for the holy cause
of our liberty; a tender husband and loving father—
he appeared before us in the aspect of a being elevated
altogether above the common level of man. Your
photograph and that of yourchildren, which had been
mislaid on the road, came this day to hand, He
therefore had just time to take his leave of those be-
loved images once more. It was a terrible leave.
taking. We heard him say, Poor Juliet, lam about
to leave you for ever. You will coon have to don
the raiment of the Polish women. How well the
dark clothing will suit the fair tresses of my bright
haired girl. I leave to my boy and girl a stainless
and unblemished name—an heritage of honour un-
sullied, but nothing more. Poland will protect you,
and adopt you as her own.' After this he said that
he implored your forgiveness for having brought
such a terrible sorrow on your life. He subsequently
conversed at great length of yourself and his chil-
dren, and his. courage never failed him save when
looking on your image and thinking of your
widowed desolation, and of his helpless fatherless
children. The story of that terrible night may only
be written in tears. During two hours he slept;
after the refreshment of rest he prayed. At eight
o'clock in the morning we received his blessing and
last farewell. He took his departure with a tran-
quil and courageous demeanour, On his way he
received continual ovations of triumph. At the
moment of his execution his voice was heard to cry
aloud, three times, Long life to Poland,' before he
fell prostrate pierced with bullets to the ground.
And now, what words can we make use of to
comfort you ? What words, drawn from the
depths of the heart, would have the power to
soothe P We can only blend our tears with
yours ; we would invite you to join us in
prayer at the foot of the cross, to pray, as your
husband died, before he departed from us, like a
Christian, a true gentleman, and a brave Italian
such as he was. Bear up, therefore, as he did,
against this sad reverse; and may God in His
mercy help and protect you. %To have this day
been to pray on his tomb, which we often intend to
visit; from the fresh laid gravel which covers it we
have gathered a handful of earth, which we send
you. ' The earth,' as he said before he left us,
' would rest lightly' on his head. We shall endea-
vour to send you his military decorations, which are
at present in the hands of our Prince. Farewell.
A thousand times farewell, madam. May God pro-
tect you and your children for ever." On the night
preceding his death the brave Tuscan wrote as
follows to Madame Bechi :—" My poor Juliet,—
When -you receive this letter your poor Lao will
be no more. He will have been shot by the
Russians. I bless you, together with my beloved
children. Death has no terrors for me. It is
hard, however, to die in a foreign country,
far away from all those whom I love, and un-
able to embrace them once more. You will
now soon be a widow. Bat I advise you not
to marry again, unless, indeed, you are led to
do so through consideration for the impe•
rious interests of our children. Soon will those
chiidren be orphans, and this through my fault.
May God have mercy upon my soul! I forgive all
my enemies with my whole heart. My Juliet, my
Guido, my dear Elise, I shall see you no more.
Farewell, farewell! Embrace Fanny, our mother,
Arthur, Massimo, Fanny's children, and your father,
and bid all kind friends a farewell for me. I die
because I have stood firmly at my post, when
nearly all the other chiefs had dispersed abroad. I
have given my blood for Poland. May Poland not
abandon my family to destitution; I send you a
lock of my hair, which is damp already with the
dew of death. I hope you will receive my watch,
my ring, and the locket I wear with your hair in it,
which I leave as an heirloom to my dear Guido, to-
gether with nay military decorations. I have now
but three hours to live. Take courage, my Juliet ;
we shall doubtless meet in heaven. Meantime pray
for my soul. My last thoughts are with God, and
with yourself. May the blessing of an innocent
man bring you happiness. Farewell, farewell ; a
thousand and a thousand tender kisses to you, my
dear Juliet, to my darling children, and to all my
relations."