The Sun.
London, England, 1859-07-18 00:00:00

'S 22307.*

PBINC.E

(From the Correspondent of the Times) -
CALCINATO; JULY 10.
We rode here last evening from Volta. We let)
the last-mentioned place at a brisk breathless trot al
half-past 7 o'clock, and took the road to San Cas-
siano, so as to cross the battlefield of Solferino.
We saw the ground still thickly strewn with sol-
diers' casques, cartridge-boxes, and a variety of
other warlike implements; French and Piedmon-
tese more frequently than Austrian, either because
the loss of the Allies was in reality more consider-
able, or because the ground we crossed was that
frOm which the attack was made, or finally because
the Austrian gear, being made of more valuable
stuff and substance, held out greater tempta-
tion to the gang of plunderers, whose harvest
is among the bodies of the slain. The corpses have
been buried with the utmost carelessness and inde-
cent haste. Graves have not been dug, but the
dead have been laid in heaps in the furrows of the
fields where they fell, and a few spadefuls of loose
mould have been thrown upon them. The conse-
quence is thaj beasts of prey of all kinds, but
especially cats (downright domestic cats, anywhere
out of Italy I might have thought them jackalls)
are feasting on the remains; that half-fleshless
bones have been dragged out here and there ; and
that the night air was not free from that taint
by which the unhonoured dead can inflict their
vengeance on the careless living. The country lay
still and calm ;.the pale young moon strove to out-
shine the faint last streaks of waning sunset. There
lay the plain, the fought-for hill, and the solitary
tower on its summit. We might have passed by
and never dreamt that on the very spot, so few
days before, 400,000 men had met in deadly
struggle ; hardly a mulberry branch lay torn or
stripped; most of the farm houses were unscathed
by ball or bullet ; you would say not one shot .or
sabre-cut had missed its mark, but had struck home.
Man had sought man's breast and spared dumb
nature ; in a few weeks not a trace will be found
of the famous field-day of Solferino.
Calcinato is the place appointed for the Tuscans'
quarantine. The whole allied army are trying to
make themselves comfortable for the 4adays' armis-
tice. They are-going to summer quarters. Tents and
open fields are exchanged for houses and churches,
stables, and at least sheltered porticoes. Bread and
meat, hay and oats, will come in now with some-
thing approaching regularity. The officers are
clubbing and bargaining for Bordeaux at their
mess., Most have performed ablutions, a few even
thought of shaving. I saw one arranging hook and
line to wage war against the carp and pike of the
Chiese. One Colonel has sent to subscribe to two
or three Turin papers to kill " the enemy," others
yawn, propose sales and barters of their steeds and
chargers; all curse their lot which made them
arrive so late and the armistice come so soon.
The same movements and arrangements are being
executed in all the French and Piedmontese corps.
The first Sardinian (Durando's) division, marched
past our head-quarters this very evening. I think
they are to be moved towards Brescia, to recruit
their forces, somewhat exhausted by two months'
incessant exertions. I saw them leaving Genoa
before the war was declared, hastening to the de-
fence of Novi, then threatened with an Austrian
attack. I wish I could paint them as they then were
and as they are to-day. La Marmora had taken
good care that the whole Sardinian army should be
inured to hard work before they entered the cam-
paign. But these men now look like the wraiths of
their former selves. They are not sun-burnt, but sun-
baked. Touch them and they will scald you like
earthenware hot from the furnace. Their walk is
not like the human pace, they rushed past us like
Zouaves or devils. A rivalship has sprung-up be-
tween the French and Piedmontese as to which of
them shall attain the greatest speed in their march,
and which shall keep it up longer. I am convinced
that long habit renders the more rapid motion the
easier and more enduring ; but I am also of opinion
that these brave troops are carrying matters too far
and using themselves up too fast. Now that the
sun has made all faces black, and the dust all coats
white, I declare it is almost impossible to distin-
guish French from Piedmontese, only the latter
sing mere frequently and more in tune, and when
at rest exhibit greater modesty, amiability, and
gentleness of disposition. The Frenchman thinks,
he must always look savage to be thought braY.T.
The high cheek-bones, the small gray eye, the small
turn-up nose, the kepi brim turned up at an angle
of 45 degrees; the long, scraggy, cravatless neck ;
the destructive organ highly developed. behind the
ear ; the swagger and bluster of the whole mein
and bearing, have something repulsive and offen-
sive. "lam a killing-machine,' says the French-
man, "they have tempered me, ground me, wound
me up for my murderous work. Kill me, or I will
kill you ; that is all I am good for, all I dare
for. lam always fighting or else furbishinciug
my weapons. I have a cartridge in my gun-barrel,
and the bayonet at its end. I fire my piece, then
instantly charge. The Emperor has said it ;
the bayonet is a French weapon !" The Italirn
at rest has a bland, mild, and modest look. There
lurks in that countenance a look of the ineffable en-
joyment of existence. Down he lies on the ground
and looks up at his deep blue heaven, and his mus-
ket lies harmless gathering dew—future rust—in
the grass, and his knapsack makes him no very hard
pillow. "Oh! let me live!" says the Italian, "King
and country called me under arms, and here I am:;
I have met the Austrian, and stood his fire as I was
bidden. I came to close quarters, and thought I had
better give him a few inches of my bayonet than
take any of his. He has no business in my Italy,
any more than I have in his Germany. My King
is always foremost in the fight, and where is the
craven who would skulk behind? But, for the rest,
this war trade is a confounded Cain business, all
hard crusts and hard knocks. I hate the din and
the dust ; and the cannon, if it does not kill, is at
least a lacerator di ben costrutti orecchi.' It
shatters a well-organised tympanum all to pieces.
We will see the Austrians out, if God help us, and
then we will have piping times again, our cool
wine-gardens, our lemonades, and the arch-eyed
girls we have left behind us."

- Such, physiognomically drawn, are the military
characters of French and Italians, and I purposely
say Italians, not Piedmontese, because the Sardinian
ranks at the present day are filled up by men from
the whole Peninsula, and as the Durando division
passed us (Tuscans) a great many of the poor burnt
faces cried out, " Any of you from Pisa ? Any from
Pistoria ?" &c. They were countrymen of ours
calling for countrymen. The Italians of King Victor
Emmanuel's army may, after Solferino, Palestro,
and Montebello, consider themselves as good sol-
diers as the French, with all their Crimean and
Algerian training, and a shade better than the
Austrians, the quarrel with whom is henceforward
simply reduced to a question of numbers. The
Italians do fight, when properly led against reason-
able odds. Let us hope for the future that the re-
luctance of Europe to admit their claims to a na-
tional existence will never be laid upon their lack
of combative capabilities. That Durando's division,
which, two months ago, went out of Genoa with
pale misgiving, thinking itself doomed to be crushed
by an Austrian force four-fold stronger—would
now, I have no doubt, cheerfully meet a four-fold
Austrian force—aye, and demolish it too. So much
of the fortune of war depends on the morale of the
troops !

I am about to leave the Tuscan division, and pro-
bably the whole camp, so long as the armies are at
rest; but it is not without regret that I shall shake
hands with the many friends with whom I have rid-
den from Florence to this place. The stuff of the
Tuscan soldiers is excellent. In outward appear-
ance they beat both the French and Piedmontese ;
and, although inferior in strength on the march, they
would, if properly led, show great spirit on the battle-
field. Very little training would have nerved them
up to the hardships they had to endure, and shaken
off that sloth which is innate in the Southern man
till he is fairly roused into action. There is immense
goodnature and good humour among these poor
fellow. I have seen men dropping down dead from
heat and starvation, but I have heard no murmur,
and not a harsh word to the country people, who
cheated and robbed them, or to the officers, who
sometimes drove them on rather indiscreetly when
they could go no faster. The officers are mettlesome,
high-spirited gentlemen, most of them young, in-
ense
experienced, and tolerably ignorant of everything
in the world. Many of them are well-horn, not a
few wealthy, all of them eager for distinction,
Their talk is often frivolous, remarkable for point-
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are mumeipalists, opposed, that is, to the fusion of
their country with the Kingdom of North Italy, or
as they call it, annexation to Piedmont. They think
that the fusion is wholly a movimento di pia" zza___.a
for success on the
democrat movement—relying
clamour of the lower orders

BRESCIA, JULY 11.
Ask any right-minded and candid Italian, no
matter from what part of the Peninsula he may
come, and no matter what his predilections in favour
of his own birthplace may be, which of the Italian
cities rises uppermost in his heart as connected with
all that is brave and generous, and his answer will
be—Brescia! Whether it be owing to the air, or
whether of the various Teutonic tribes which settled
in Lombardy the noblest and most warlike chose
for its abode the banks of the Mella, there is no
doubt but the handsomest and, most robust of all
Italian frames spring up in this bountiful soil, and
enclose in them the healthiest minds and the stoutest
hearts. The contrast in the provinces, between the
timid and cunning hind of the Mantuan lowlands, ,
at Piubega, Goito, Volta, &c., and the uprign
and frank inhabitant of the far-famed heights otf