The Sun.
London, England, 1860-10-23 00:00:00

carriages were fired at by some Neapolitan skirmishers,
who had so far advanced on the road we were passing as to

discharge their rifles at a distance of 20 paces. The coach-
men put their horsos to a gallop, but the shower of balls
was so copious that one of the horses of Garibaldi's carriage
fell dead, and one of thrA in which I rode was severely

wounded. The moment was critical, and our position diffi-
cult. Garibaldi jumped out of the carriage, and we followed
his e::ample. Ono of his orderly officers, Major Trampolini,
was wounded in the leg, another in the head. The Neapo-
litan sharpshooters had by this time advanced on the road,

and it was clear that their intention was to surround the

whole of Garibaldi's staff. The general, calm and composed
as he always is, drew his sword, and gave the order to a
company of General Medici's men, who were coming up
from Sant Angelo, to keep the Neapolitans in check—an

order which gave him time to reach his saddle-horse, which
was near at hand. Seeing that Major Trampolino was
wounded, and being a pedestrian, I followed him to a farm
house, with the intention of reaching Sant Angelo by a road
over the hills. I had pretty well succeeded in putting my
project into execution, when I was suddenly stopped by
three shepherds, who, knowing I was surrounded by the

Neapolitans, summoned me in the name of his Sicilian Ma-
jesty to give myself up. They had not, however, discovered
that I was in possession of a good Adam's revolver—a

weapon which never fails. Self-defence gave me the right
of using it, and so I did. Hating lodged a bullet in the leg
of one of the ruffians, the other two took to their heels. I
thought myself for the moment so far safe that I stopped to
survey the scene which the country presented. I saw masses

of the Neapolitans coming up from the camp of Capua in
a circular line, their fire literally covering the plain, Right
and left the artillery of Sant Angelo and Santa Maria bat-
teries were spreading death, and far on the front brave
Brigadier Dunne was making almost incredible efforts to
oppose the advancing march of the enemy. Whilst I was
looking at the fratricidal fight I was suddenly roused by an
hurrah, which was soon followed by a volley of musketry.
The sharp whistle of balls, and the flash of hundreds of

muskets, left no doubt that a party of Neapolitans was
coming up the hill behind. And so it was. I had scarcely
moved from the place, when I was surrounded by the
enemy's riflemen.
There was nothing to be done—l was prisoner without
hope of escape. But it seemed as though the Neapolitans
preferred to have me dead; for, although I was walking
towards them, they fired at me most obstinately, and a
bullet wounded me slightly in the left leg. I fell, and the
men came up, surrounded me, robbed me of my money,
my watch, and part of my clothes. One struck me on the
head, another gave me such a heavy blow on the shoulders
that, although it was a bright day, I seemed to see all the
stars in the heavens. Had not the commanding officer
come up they would have murdered me. I was a Gari-
baldian, they said—they wanted to revenge the imaginary
assassination of their comrades. The captain having
I ordered me to follow the column, I was obliged to do so,
although I could scarcely walk. I begged him to send me
to Capua at once, but he declined to do so. "I am
li ordered to go up the hill, and I cannot detach any of
my men; besides," he added, "were I to abandon you,
my men would surely kill you ; follow me as well
as you can." I shall always remember the pain I suffered
on that long errand of four hours. The marching column
was always lighting with Garibaldi's bersaglieri, men fell
dead around me, and the scene was one of the most distress-
ing that can be imagined. At about half-past ten o'clock
one of the lieutenants of the party was struck by two balls
and fell down mortally wounded at my side. Ho was a
young man of one and twenty with an angelic smile on his
face. I hastened to assist him, and implored the captain
to allow me to dress his wounds. The captain refused, in
spite of the entreaties of his wounded comrade, who begged
me not to abandon him. I offered the captain to give my
word of honour that I would present myself at the Neapoli-
tan camp as soon as I had brought the poor fellow to Gari-
baldi's ambulance, which was near at hand. All was of no
avail, and the wounded man was hoisted on the shoulders
of two soldiers, who, ten minutes afterwards threw him
into a ditch, cruelly abandoning him. I could no longer
think of myself. Death and misery were around me, and I
was heartbroken in witnessing the scene of horror. At last
we reached the head luarters of General Rattucci, who di-
rected the action of that day. Hearing that I was an Eng-
lishman, he gave vent to the most unwarranted passion,
asking me what business I had there. I told him that I
was a newspaper correspondent, who had undertaken the
duty of writing about the Italian war. This declaration did
not seem to mollify the General, who said I should pay for
all the calumnies the English press had spread against the
Neapolitan army.
Whilst I was thus speaking with the Neapolif an general
some officers came up and ordered me and ten others,
my companions, to follow them to Capua. We were
marched between two rows of soldiers, amidst the most
brutal insults of a frantic population. They wanted us to
cry out, " Long live Francis II.," a thing which all de-
clined to do. How we were able to reach the fortress of
Capua safe I cannot tell. With the help of the Almighty,
we at last crossed the drawbridge of the fortress, and were
safe. Once within the walls of the fortress we were kindly
treated by the officers, who openly told us they deplored
the fratricidal fight which was staining the soil of Italy
with Italian blood. They told us that military honour
only induced them to fight against their brethren, and ono
young artillery officer added, they had been deceived by the
King, who told them he would release them from the oath
of allegiance. More than one pressed our hands as that of
brethren. Whilst this scene was going on within the for-
tress the guns were roaring outside. Wcunded were con-
stantly brought in, and from the countenance of the sol-
diers who were constantly arriving it was clear that the
day was going against the royal army. Dusk came on, and
then we knew that the Neapolitans had suffered a defeat.
This increased our danger, for the soldiers wanted to mur-
der us. In their eyes we were Garibaldians, belonging to
the band of heroes who had beaten them. Our guard was,
however, redoubled ; and we prepared to pass the night—
a long night, full of anguish. Next morning we were
told that an order had coma from the King to remove us
to Gaeta. I asked leave to say good-bye to my wounded
companions at the hospital, a demand which was
granted. There I saw Major Cattabene and his noble
companions lying on their bed of sorrow. At eight o'clock
p.m. six carriages were waiting for us, and we started with
85 of Garibaldi's soldiers. An escort of an infantry batta •
lion and a squadron of hussars accompanied us. We marched
the whole of the night, till, at daybreak, we arrived at the
village of Sant Agate. The population—a population of
wild beasts in human form—was waiting for us. As our
cortege approached we were received with the most horrible
howling, and with a shower of stones. We were, however,
safely taken to the gendarmerie barrack. Some of our com-
panions were so ill that after they had laid down on the
ground they could not move for hours. But some kind
officers came up and defended us, ordering the mob to dis-
perse. We thus passed the day, thinking of 15 miles we
had to perform before reaching our destination. At night
we started again, with the same escort of cavalry and in-
fantry. The officer who commanded the latter was a Count
Ruiz, a perfect and noble-minded gentleman. In our posi-
tion we soon looked upon him as our best friend. Captain
Ruiz had told us that at midnight we should pass through
the camp of the Garigliano. The Garigliano is a military
position which defends the road of the Abruzzi, and 12,000
Neapolitan troops had been posted there to oppose the ad-
vancing march of the Piedmontese. At this announcement
new dangers rose before us. The midnight hour struck at
last, and at a sudden turning of the road the bivouac fires of
the Neapolitans were discovered. The night was dark. The
country is flat, and the far outline of the Tyrrhene
sea extended itself in our front like a waving silver
riband. On our right and left enormous fires
were burning, spreading a vivid red light upon
the surrounding country. Here and there groups of
soldiers, wrapped up in their large white cloaks,
were to be seen moving about the camp. The shining hel-
met of the dragoons, the picturesque kiapeka of the lancers,
and the shako of the infantry, could be made out in the
gleam of the flames, making a most striking scene. But as
our party was moving the cry of "The Garibaldians r the
Garibaldians 1" was suddenly heard, and another horrible
howling followed it. The soldiers left their bivouac fires to
meet us, some of them brandishing the burning stakes at
us. But Captain Ruiz had sworn to protect us, and he nobly
kept his word. A quarter of an hour afterwards we had
passed the camp and were safe. At 4 o'clock we arrived at
Gaeta. It was still dark as we entered the castle gates,
upon which we seemed to see the famous verse of Dante.
We were then desired to leave our carriage, and the com-
manding officer handed us over to our gaolor, having first
counted us, as if we had been a herd of sheep. The iron
gate was closed on us, and the poor soldiers were pent up in
one of those low, dirty dens which Lord Llanover has, I
think, recently described in one of his letters. As for us
officers—for both I and a colleague were considered as
Garibaldi's officers and treated accordingly—we were first
shown into a square room without air, without furniture,
and so damp that the walls were all green and mouldy. The
stench was so dreadful that we could scarcely face it. All
the indignation which can be felt by an Englishman who
thinks himself wronged found expression, and I strongly
protested against the barbarity of locking us up in such a
nasty place. My boldness gave courage to my companions,
and we all protested. The lieutenant who had taken us in
Charge was sent for, and two other more decent rooms were
found. We were 24 in number, and at our arriving in the
new room we found six others, Garibaldi's officers, who had
been made prisoners at Cajazzo. All our furniture con-
sisted of a rough table and a dirty mattress of old and half
rotten straw. We were told that the King allowed us 30
bajocchi a day, upon which we were obliged to subsist. In
this place we were obliged to sleep, to cook, and eat our
dinners—in a word, to live. You may conceive how we
were situated. A few days afterwards, as eight now pri-
soners came in,we were removed to the upper storey of the
castle, in a more spacious gallery. We were locked up all
the day, except for half an hour after dinner, in which we
were allowed to promenade on the terrace of the castle. Out
of our 30 bajocchi granted by his Majesty full :ten were
absorbed by a man named Tobia, and by a convict who
had murdered his most intimate friend, who were charged to
buy our provisions. But what was this when compared to
the condition of the poor soldiers of Garibaldi ? They were
obliged to live upon five grani (about a penny), they had
no air, and were obliged to sleep upon a bed of rotten
straw, which had been used by all the prisoners who had
visited that horrible den for two or three mouths before,