Henty George Alfred
Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy

“The villains!” Garibaldi exclaimed, bringing his clenched hand down upon the table: “it is just what they would do. I know that many of my friends enjoyed your father’s hospitality; and no doubt it would be a marked house, and the secret police of Francisco would keep an eye over what was being done there, and would, if possible, get one of their agents into it. This man, who had no doubt acted as a spy over your father when he was in Italy, would be naturally chosen for the work; and his story and pretence of fear served admirably to get him installed there. If he had learned that you were about to start to bring me ten thousand pounds, and perhaps papers of importance, it would have been nothing short of a miracle had you arrived safely with them.”

“That was what Signora Forli and my mother thought, sir. They were afraid to send the letter directed to me at the hotel where I was to stop, as the man would doubtless telegraph to agents out at Genoa, and they would get possession of it; so instead of doing so, they enclosed it in a letter to the countess. I posted it myself, and there was therefore no chance of the letter being lost, except by pure accident.”

“But if the spy did not know that you had sent the letter off by post, it would render your journey no less hazardous than if you had taken it with you.”

“My mother and the Signora were both convinced that an attempt would be made to search me and my baggage on the way, but they did not think that they would try to take my life; for after what had happened to my grandfather and father, there would be no question that my murder was the work of Neapolitan agents, and a storm of indignation would thus be caused.”

Garibaldi nodded. “No doubt they were right, and if the scoundrels could have got possession of what you carried without injury to you they would have done so. But they would have stuck at nothing in order to carry out their object; and had you caught them while they were engaged in searching your clothes or baggage, they would not have hesitated to use their knives. I cannot now understand how you have come through without their having meddled with you. It might have been done when you were asleep in an hotel, or they might have drugged you in a railway carriage, or in your cabin on board the steamer coming here. The secret police of Naples is the only well-organised department in the kingdom. They have agents in London, Paris, and other cities, and from the moment you left your mother’s house you must have been watched. Are you sure that, although you may not know it, you have not been searched?”

“I am quite sure, sir. We were so certain I should be watched that I made no attempt to get off secretly, but started by the train I had intended to travel by. I did not stop a night at an hotel all the way, and made a point of getting into railway carriages that contained other passengers. It happened, however, that at Vienne the last of those with me alighted. It was one o’clock in the morning when we left the station, and I felt sure that if an attempt was made, it would be before we stopped, especially as a man looked into the carriage just before we were starting, and then went away. I had a loaded pistol in each pocket and a rug over me, and I sat in the corner pretending to be asleep. An hour later a man came and looked in; another joined him. The door was partly opened, and an arm with an extended pistol pointed at me, but I felt perfectly sure that he had no intention of firing unless I woke.

“Half a minute later his comrade entered the carriage. He had an open knife in one hand, and a cloth in the other; but as he came in I shot him; he fell back through the carriage door. Whether in doing so he knocked his comrade down or not, I cannot say; but, at any rate, I saw no more of him. The man whom I shot had dropped what he held in his hand on to the floor. It was as I had expected – a handkerchief, soaked with chloroform. It was seven when I arrived at Marseilles. Fortunately, a steamer left at twelve. When I went on board I made the acquaintance of three young men, who were, I guessed, on the same errand as myself; their names were Rubini, Sarto, and Maffio. We soon became very friendly, and I found that my conjectures were correct. This being so, I told them what had happened; and as there was no one besides myself in my cabin, Rubini most kindly laid a mattress across the door and slept there. As I had not had a wink of sleep the night before, and only dozed a little the one before that, I should have had great difficulty in keeping awake. In the course of the night some one did attempt to open the door; but he was unable to do so on account of the mattress placed there, and we heard no more of him. I asked these gentlemen to come to the Hotel Europa at eleven, for I was really afraid to come along the road here by myself. They drove with me to the house of the countess, and then here, so that I was well guarded.”

“I know them all well,” Garibaldi said. “Rubini is a lieutenant in the Genoese company of my cacciatori; the others are in his company. You have done well indeed, my friend; it needed courage to start on such a journey, knowing that Francisco’s police were on your track. You have a right to feel proud that your vigilance and quickness defeated their attempt. It is well that you met Rubini and his friends; for as the spies would know directly you entered the palazzo of the countess that you had gone there for some special purpose, probably to obtain documents sent to her, I doubt whether you would have been able to come safely alone, even if the road had been fairly well thronged.”

“I should not have gone to the countess’s unless I had an escort, general. My intention was to come to you in the first place, and ask that three of your officers might accompany me to get the letter; but, of course, after having found friends who would act as my escort, there was no occasion to do so. I suppose there is no fear of my being further annoyed?”

“I should think not,” Garibaldi said; “now they know that your mission has been carried out, you will cease to be of interest to them. But at the same time, it would be well to be cautious. If the fellow you shot was the leader of those charged to prevent the supplies and letter coming to me, we may consider that there is an end of the affair. His death will give a step to some one, and they will owe you no ill will. If, however, the other man was the chief of the party, he would doubtless owe you a grudge. He is sure to be blamed for having been thus baffled by a lad; whereas had he succeeded, he would have received the approval of his superiors. I think, therefore, if I were you, I should abstain from going out after nightfall, unless with a companion, or if you do so, keep in the great thoroughfares and avoid quiet streets. That habit of carrying a loaded pistol in your pocket has proved a valuable one, and I should advise you to continue it so long as you are here. If you see Rubini, tell him that I thank him for the aid he and his friends rendered you. He and the others have all been instructed not to come here until they receive a communication that the time for action has arrived. My followers send me their addresses as soon as they reach Genoa, so that I can summon them when they are needed. It would never do for numbers of men to present themselves here. The authorities know perfectly well that I am intending to make an expedition to Sicily; but as long as they see no signs of activity, and their spies tell them that only some half-dozen of my friends frequent this villa, they may be content to abstain from interference with me; indeed, I do not think that in any case they would venture to prevent my sailing, unless they receive urgent remonstrances from Austria or France. Were such remonstrances made, they would now be able to reply that, so far as they can learn, I am remaining here quietly, and am only visited by a few private friends.”

CHAPTER VII.
THE EXPEDITION SAILS

FRANK spent a pleasant three weeks in Genoa. The three young men did all in their power to make the time pass agreeably to him: they introduced him to their families and friends; one or the other of them always accompanied him to the theatre or opera, or, as much more frequently happened, to gatherings at their own houses or at those of acquaintances. Many of these were, like themselves, members of the Genoese corps; and both as a relative of two men who had sacrificed their lives in the cause of freedom, and especially for the aid that his mother had sent to Garibaldi to enable him to carry out his plans, he was everywhere most warmly received. He himself had not told, even his three friends, the amount that his mother had contributed; but Garibaldi’s companions had mentioned it to others, and it soon became known to all interested in the expedition.

Twice a week Frank drove out to Quarto. Matters had been steadily progressing. A thousand rifles, but of a very inferior kind, had been obtained from Farini, and a few hundred of a better class had been bought. These latter were for the use of Garibaldi’s own band, while the others would be distributed among such Sicilians as might join him on his landing. These would for the most part come armed, as large numbers of guns and stores of ammunition had been accumulated in the island for use in the futile insurrection a few months previously.

On May 5th all was ready. Frank paid his hotel bill, left his trunk to be placed in the store-room until he should send or return for it, and with a bundle, in which his sword was wrapped up in his blanket, cloak, and a light waterproof sheet, and with a bag containing his red shirts and other small belongings, together with his pistols and a good supply of ammunition, drove to the Villa Spinola. On the previous day he had sent on there a saddle and bridle, valise and holsters. The horses were to be bought in Sicily. Outside all seemed as quiet as usual, but once within the gates there was a great change. A score of gentlemen were strolling in little groups in the garden, talking excitedly; these were almost all new arrivals, and consequently unknown to Frank, who passed on into the house where Garibaldi, the officers of his staff, and other principal officers were engaged in discussing the final arrangements. Most of the staff were known to him, as they had been there for some days. He joined three or four of the younger men, who were sitting smoking in a room on the ground floor while the council was being held.

“So at last the day has arrived, lieutenant,” one of them said. “I think everything augurs well for us. I am convinced that the government do not mean to interfere with us, but are adopting the policy of shutting their eyes. Of course, they will disavow us, but they will not dare to stop us. They must know what is going on; there are too many people in the secret for it not to have leaked out. I don’t know whether you noticed it, but I could see, when I was in the city this morning, that there was a general excitement; people met and talked earnestly; every stranger, and there are a good many there to-day, is watched eagerly. You see, there is no ship of war in the port, which there certainly would have been, had they intended to stop us.”

“I shall be very glad when we are well at sea,” Frank said, “though I agree with you that it is not likely we shall be interfered with.”

They chatted for upwards of an hour, and the council broke up. A list was handed round, appointing the boats to which the various officers were told off; and Frank found that he was to go in the third that left the shore, together with Orsini, commander of the second company, and Turr, the first aide-de-camp of the general. The hours passed slowly. No regular meals were served, but food was placed on a long table, and each could go in and take refreshments as he pleased. The new-comers, and indeed all the officers, with the exception of two or three of Garibaldi’s most trusted friends, were still in ignorance as to how they were to obtain vessels to take them to Messina, and Frank, who was behind the scenes, listened with some amusement to the wild conjectures that they hazarded. He knew that the matter had been privately arranged with the owners of the Rubattino line of steamers that the Lombardo and Piemonte, both of which were in the harbour, should be seized by the Garibaldians. They were warm adherents of the national cause, but could not, of course, appear openly in the matter. They had already been paid the sum agreed on for any damage or injury that might happen to the vessels; while openly they would be able to protest loudly against the seizure of their ships, and, like the government, profess entire ignorance of what was going on. Only a few hands would be left on board. These were to offer a feigned resistance, but were to make no noise.

Among Garibaldi’s followers were several engineers, who were to take command of and assist in the engine-rooms. In order to save time, the Lombardo, which was much the larger of the two vessels, was to take the Piemonte in tow. There was still, however, some anxiety on the part of the leaders lest, at the last moment, the government should intervene, seize the arms, and take possession of the steamers. The seizure of the great magazine of arms at Milan showed that Cavour was in earnest in his endeavour to put a stop to an expedition of whose success he had not the slightest hope; but whether he would risk the ferment that would be excited, were Garibaldi and his followers to be seized at the moment of starting, was doubtful.

This was a question that had been discussed time after time by Garibaldi and his friends. That the minister was well informed as to all the preparations, the purchase of fresh arms, and the arrival of so many men at Genoa, was certain; but he could not know the exact hour at which the expedition was to start, nor even be sure that it might not march down the coast, and take ship at some other port than Genoa.

Ignorant as were the great bulk of those gathered at the Villa Spinola of Garibaldi’s plans, they knew that the movement was to begin that night, and there was a general feeling of restlessness and excitement as evening approached. From time to time messengers brought news from the city. All was well; there was no unusual stir among the troops. The police went about their usual duties unconcernedly, and apparently without noticing the suppressed excitement of the population. At nightfall the word was passed round that all were to lie down as they could, as there would be no movement until one o’clock. The order was obeyed, but there was little sleep. It was known that Bixio and some other officers had already left the villa; and a whisper had run round that they were going to seize some ships, and that the embarkation would take place before morning.

At one o’clock all were in motion again. The servants of the villa brought round bowls of coffee and milk, and as soon as these were drunk and some bread hastily eaten, all made ready for a start. Frank had that evening donned his uniform for the first time, and had been at work, with two other members of the staff, serving out rifles and ammunition, from an outhouse which had been converted into a magazine; the men coming in a steady stream through a back entrance into the garden, and passing again with their arms through another door. Another party were at work carrying down boxes of ammunition and barrels of flour and other provisions to the shore. At one o’clock the whole force were gathered there. It was an impressive sight, and Frank for the first time fully realised the singularity and danger of the expedition in which he was to share.

Here were a thousand men, all of whom had fought again and again under Garibaldi in the cause of Italian liberty. They were about to start, against the wishes of the government of their country, to invade a kingdom possessed of strong fortresses and an army of one hundred and twenty-eight thousand regular troops. Success seemed altogether impossible. But Frank had deeply imbibed the conviction of his mother and Signora Forli that the people at large would flock to the standard. He had been carried away with the enthusiasm of the general and those about him, and even the darkness of the night, the mystery of the quiet armed figures and of the boats hauled up in readiness for the embarkation, did not damp the suppressed excitement that made every nerve tingle, and rendered it difficult to remain outwardly impassive.

The men talked together in low tones. Here were many who had not met since they had parted after the events that had laid another stone to the edifice of Italian Unity, by the addition of Tuscany, Parma, and Modena to the Kingdom of Sardinia. The greater part of them were Lombards and Genoese, but there were many from Turin and other cities of Piedmont. Some were exiles, who had received a summons similar to that sent by Garibaldi to Captain Percival. The greetings of all these men, who had been comrades in many dashing adventures, were warm and earnest, though expressed in but few low words.

Hour after hour passed, and expectation grew into anxiety. All knew now that Bixio had gone to seize two steamers, and that they should have been in the roadstead at two o’clock; but at four there were still no signs of them, and the fear that he had failed, that the government had at the last moment intervened, grew stronger. It was not until dawn was beginning to break that the two steamers were made out approaching, and anxiety gave place to delight.

Steadily and in good order the men took their places, under the direction of the officers assigned to each boat, and by the time the steamers arrived as near as they could venture to the shore, the boats were alongside with their crews. The embarkation was quickly effected. It was found that there had been no dangerous hitch in the arrangements, the delay having been caused by the difficulty Bixio had had in finding the two steamers, which were anchored in the extensive roadstead of Genoa among many other ships. The stores were hastily transferred from the boats to the steamers, and these at once started for the spot where two boats, laden with ammunition, percussion caps, and rifles, should have been lying off the coast. Either through misunderstanding of orders or the interference of the authorities, the two boats were not at the rendezvous; and after cruising about for some hours in every direction, Garibaldi decided that no further time could be lost, for at any moment government vessels might start in pursuit. Accordingly the steamers’ heads were turned to the south, and the expedition fairly began.

Delighted as all on board the Lombardo and Piemonte were to have escaped without government interference, the loss of the ammunition was a very serious blow. They had brought with them from the Villa Spinola scarcely sufficient for a couple of hours’ fighting for those on board. They had neither a reserve for themselves, nor any to hand over with the guns to those they expected to join them on landing. It was, therefore, absolutely necessary to touch at some port to obtain ammunition, and Garibaldi chose Talamone, at the southern extremity of Tuscany, within a few miles of the boundary of the Papal States. They arrived there early the next morning, and Garibaldi at once went ashore and desired the governor of the fort, in the name of the king, to hand over to him supplies of ammunition and some guns.

Whatever doubts the governor may have had as to Garibaldi’s authority, he and the governor of the much larger neighbouring town of Orbetello rendered him all the assistance in their power, and gave him a considerable amount of ammunition and several guns. The vessels filled up with coal, and the inhabitants welcomed the expedition with enthusiasm. For this conduct the governor of Talamone afterwards received a severe reprimand from the government, who were obliged to clear themselves of any participation whatever in the expedition, and had, a few hours after Garibaldi left Genoa, despatched a fast screw frigate, the Maria, under the orders of Admiral Persano in pursuit. His official orders were to capture and bring back the steamers and all on board; but there can be little doubt that he received secret instructions in a contrary sense. At any rate, the frigate, after a prolonged cruise, returned to Genoa without having come within sight of the expedition.

Before leaving Talamone, Garibaldi accepted an offer of one of his followers to undertake, with sixty men, to effect a diversion by raising the population in the north of the Papal States. The expedition seemed a hopeless one with so small a force; and it would seem that Garibaldi assented to it in order to rid himself from some whose impetuosity and violent disposition might have led to trouble later. As was to be expected, the little party failed entirely in their object, and were defeated and captured very shortly after crossing the frontier.

All were glad on board the two ships, when they were again under steam, and heading for their goal. As by this time it was certain that the news of their departure from Genoa would have been telegraphed to Naples, and that the ships of war of that country would be on the look-out to intercept them, it was decided, at a council of war held by Garibaldi, that instead of landing near Messina, they should make for the little island of Maregigimo, lying off the north-west corner of Sicily, as by this route they would be likely to escape the vigilance of the Neapolitan ships-of-war, which would be watching for them along the coast from the Straits of Messina to Palermo.

Arriving at Maregigimo late on the evening of the 10th, and learning from the islanders that the coast of Sicily was everywhere patrolled, they decided to take the bold step of sailing into the harbour of Marsala. As a large mercantile port, this offered several advantages. The true character of the vessels would not be suspected until they arrived there, and hostile ships cruising near might take them for ordinary merchantmen. There was also the advantage that, being only some seventy miles from Cape Bona, in Africa, it afforded a better chance of escape, should they meet with misfortune after landing, and be obliged to re-embark. As they neared the coast they made out several sailing vessels and steamers near it, and in the roadstead of Marsala two ships-of-war were anchored. To their joy, they were able to make out through a telescope, while still at a considerable distance, that these vessels were flying the British ensign, and so headed straight for the port, which they found full of merchantmen.

They had indeed been attended by good fortune, for three Neapolitan ships-of-war had left the port that morning and were still in sight. Being evidently suspicious, however, of the two steamers entering the port together, they turned and made for Marsala again. Not a moment was lost by the Garibaldians, and the disembarkation at once began. It happened that the British vessels-of-war were in the line of fire, and consequently the whole of the men were landed before the Neapolitans could bring their guns to bear. Two-thirds of them were still on the quay, getting the ammunition and stores into the carts, when the enemy opened fire upon them with shell and grape; fortunately the discharges were ill directed, and the Garibaldians marched off into the town without loss. They were welcomed with lively acclamation by the working classes of the town; but the authorities, while throwing no opposition in their way, received them under protest, as indeed was natural enough, for they could hardly suppose that this handful of men could succeed against the power of Naples, and dreaded the anger of the government should they bestow any warm hospitality upon these adventurers.

Two days were spent at Marsala in gaining information as to the state of the country, making arrangements for the march inland, and for the transport of ammunition and spare rifles, and in obtaining stores of provisions sufficient for two or three days. It was fortunate indeed that no Neapolitan troops were stationed in the town, and that they were therefore able to pursue their work without interruption. During the voyage the force had been divided into eight companies, and a ninth was now formed from the Sicilians who joined them. The enthusiasm, that had been necessarily shown rather in action than in shouts by the people of Marsala, who, with Neapolitan ships in the bay, feared that any demonstration might draw upon themselves a terrible retribution, now showed itself openly. The force was accompanied by great numbers of men and women, – even monks joined in the procession, – while from every village parties of fighting men, many of whom had taken part in the late insurrection, joined the party; and when on the day after leaving Marsala they reached Salemi, the force had been augmented by twelve hundred men.

Here Garibaldi, at the request not only of his own men, but of the authorities of the little town and deputies from villages round, assumed the title of dictator, in the name of Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy – thus proclaiming to the world that he had broken altogether with the republican faction.

Except when on duty, there was a thorough comradeship among the Garibaldians. Fully half of the thousand men who had left Genoa with him belonged to the upper and professional classes, and were of the same rank of life as the officers; consequently, when the march was done or the men dismissed from parade, all stiffness was thrown aside, and officers and men mingled in the utmost harmony. All were in the highest spirits. The first well-nigh insuperable difficulties had been overcome; the hindrances thrown in their way by the Italian government had failed to prevent their embarkation; the danger of falling into the hands of the Neapolitan navy had been avoided, and the reception which they met with showed that they had not overestimated the deep feeling of hostility with which the Sicilians regarded their oppressors.

Frank, while on capital terms with all the officers, who were aware how much the expedition owed to his family, and who saw the almost affectionate manner in which Garibaldi treated him, kept principally with his special friends, Maffio, Rubini, and Sarto.

During the voyage, as an occasional change from the one absorbing topic, they asked him many questions about his school-days, and were intensely interested in his description of the life, so wholly different from that at Italian schools and academies.

“We don’t have such good times as you have,” Rubini said; “you seem to have done just what you liked, and your masters do not appear to have interfered with you at all.”

“No, except when in school, they had nothing to do with us.”

“And you went where you liked and did what you liked, just as if you were grown-up men? It is astonishing,” Maffio said; “why, with us we are never out of sight of our masters!”

“We might not quite go where we liked: there were certain limits beyond which we were supposed not to pass; but really, as long as we did not get into any rows, we could pretty well go anywhere within walking distance. You see, the big fellows to a certain extent keep order; but really they only do this in the houses where we live – outside there is no occasion to look after us. Though we are but boys, we are gentlemen, and are expected to act as such. I can’t see why boys want looking after, as if they were criminals, who would break into a house or maltreat an old woman, if they had the chance. It is because we are, as it were, put on our honour and allowed to act and think for ourselves, instead of being marched about and herded like a flock of sheep, that our public school boys, as a rule, do so well afterwards. Our great general, Wellington – at least I think it was he – said, that the battle of Waterloo was fought in the playing fields of Eton. Of course, though he said Eton, he meant of all our public schools. Certainly we are much less likely to come to grief when we leave school and become our own masters, than we should be, if we had been treated as children up to that time.”

“That must be so,” Rubini said thoughtfully. “I wish we had such schools in Italy; perhaps we shall have some day. We have many universities, but no schools at all like yours. Of course, your masters are not priests?”

“Well, they are almost all clergymen, but that makes no difference. They are generally good fellows, and take a lot of interest in our sports, which is natural enough, for many of them have been great cricketers or great oarsmen – that is, they have rowed in their university boat. A master who has done that sort of thing is more looked up to by the boys, and is thought more of, than fellows who have never done anything in particular. The sort of fellows who have always been working and reading, and have come out high at the universities, are of course very good teachers, but they don’t understand boys half as well as the others do.”

“But why should you respect a master who has been, as you say, good at sports, more than one who has studied hard?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly. Of course it is very creditable to a man to have taken a high degree; but somehow or other one does have a lot of respect for a fellow who you know could thrash any blackguard who had a row with him in a couple of minutes – just the same as one feels a respect for an officer who has done all sorts of brave actions. I heard, some time ago, that one of our masters had been appointed to a church in some beastly neighbourhood in Birmingham or one of those manufacturing towns, and the people were such a rough lot that he could do nothing with them at first. But one day, when he was going along the street, he saw a notorious bully thrashing a woman, and he interfered. The fellow threatened him; and he quietly turned in, and gave him the most tremendous thrashing he had ever had, in about three minutes. After that he got to be greatly liked, and did no end of good in his parish. I suppose there was just the same feeling among those fellows as there is with us at school.”