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

“It seems impossible,” Rubini said, in a tone almost of awe, “that a minister should fight with his hands against a ruffian of that kind.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Frank replied: “if you saw a big ruffian thrashing a woman or insulting a lady, or if even he insulted yourself, what would you do? I am supposing, of course, that you were not in uniform, and did not wear a sword.”

“I do not know what I should do,” Rubini said gravely. “I hope I should fly at him.”

“Yes; but if he were bigger and stronger, and you could not box, what would be the good of that? He would knock you down, and perhaps kick you almost to death, and then finish thrashing the woman.”

The three friends looked gravely at each other.

“Yes; but you say that this man was a priest, a clergyman?” Maffio urged.

“Yes; but you must remember that he was also a man, and there is such a thing as righteous anger. Why should a man look on and see a woman ill-treated without lifting his hand to save her, simply because he is a clergyman? No, no, Maffio. You may say what you like, but it is a good thing for a man to have exercised all his muscles as a boy, and to be good at sports, and have learned to use his fists. It is good for him, whether he is going to be a soldier, or a colonist in a wild country, or a traveller, or a clergyman. I am saying nothing against learning; learning is a very good thing, but certainly among English boys we admire strength and skill more than learning, and I am quite sure that as a nation we have benefited more by the one than the other. If there was not one among us who had ever opened a Latin or Greek book, we should still have extended our empire as we have done, colonised continents, conquered India, and held our own, and more, against every other nation by land and sea, and become a tremendous manufacturing and commercial country.”

The others laughed. “Well crowed, Percival! No doubt there is a great deal in what you say, still I suppose that even you will hardly claim that you are braver than other people.”

“Not braver,” Frank said; “but bravery is no good without backbone. If two men equally brave meet, it is the one with most ‘last’ – that is what we call stamina – most endurance, most strength, and most skill, who must in the long-run win.”

“But the fault of you English is – I don’t mean it offensively – that you believe too much in yourselves.”

“At any rate,” Frank replied, “we don’t boast about ourselves, as some people do, and it is because we believe in ourselves that we are successful. For example, you all here believe that, small as is your number, you are going to defeat the Neapolitans, and I think that you will do it, because I also believe in you. It is that feeling among our soldiers and sailors – their conviction that, as a matter of course, they will in the long-run win – that has carried them through battles and wars against the biggest odds. That was the way that your Roman ancestors carried their arms over Europe. They were no braver than the men they fought, but they believed thoroughly in themselves, and never admitted to themselves the possibility of defeat. What a mad expedition ours would be if we had not the same feeling!”

“I won’t argue any more against you, Percival,” Rubini laughed; “and if I ever marry and have sons, I will send them over to be educated at one of your great schools – that is, if we have not, as I hope we may have by that time, schools of the same kind here. Can you fence? Do you learn that at your schools?”

“Not as a part of the school course. A fencing master does come down from London once a week, and some of the fellows take lessons from him. I did among others; but once a week is of very little use, and whenever I was in London during the holidays, I went pretty nearly every day to Angelo’s, which is considered the best school for fencing we have. Of course my father, being a soldier, liked me to learn the use of the sword and rapier, though I might never have occasion to use them, for, as I was his only son, he did not want me to go into the army. It is just as well now that I did go in for it.”

“I don’t expect it will be of much use,” Rubini said. “If the Neapolitans do not show themselves to be braver soldiers than we take them for, there will be no hand-to-hand fighting. If, on the other hand, they do stand their ground well, I do not expect we shall ever get to close quarters, for they ought to annihilate us before we could do so. Well, I long for the first trial.”

“So do I. I should think that a good deal would depend upon that. If we beat them as easily as I have heard my father say they were beaten near Rome in 1848, it is hardly likely that they will make much stand afterwards. It is not only the effect it will have on the Neapolitan troops, but on the people. We cannot expect that the Sicilians will join us in considerable number until we have won a battle, and we want them to make a good show. Even the most cowardly troops can hardly help fighting when they are twenty to one; but if we are able to make a fair show of force, the enemy may lose heart, even if the greater part of our men are only poorly armed peasants.”

To most of those who started from Genoa, fully prepared to sacrifice their lives in the cause they regarded as sacred, the success that had attended their passage, and enabled them to disembark without the loss of a man, seemed a presage of further good fortune, and they now marched forward with the buoyant confidence, that in itself goes a long way to ensure success; the thought that there were fifty thousand Neapolitan troops in the island, and that General Lanza had at Palermo twenty-eight thousand, in no way overawed them, and the news that a strong body of the enemy had advanced through Calatafimi to meet them was regarded with satisfaction.

Calatafimi stood in the heart of the mountains, where the roads from Palermo, Marsala and Trapani met; and on such ground the disproportion of numbers would be of less importance than it would be in the plain, for the cavalry of the enemy would not be able to act with effect. The ground, too, as they learned from peasants, was covered with ruins of buildings erected by Saracens, Spaniards, and Normans, and was therefore admirably suited for irregular warfare. Garibaldi, with a few of his staff, went forward to reconnoitre the position. He decided that his own followers should make a direct attack, while the new levies, working among the hills, should open fire on the Neapolitan flanks and charge down upon them as opportunity offered.

At Marsala the staff had all bought horses, choosing hardy animals accustomed to work among the mountains. It was not the general’s intention to hurl his little force directly on the Neapolitan centre, situated in the valley, but, while making a feint there, to attack one flank or the other, the rapidity with which his men manœuvred giving them a great advantage. While, therefore, the six little guns he had obtained at Talamonte were to open fire on the enemy’s centre, covered by a couple of hundred men, the rest were to act as a mobile force under his own direction; their movements would be screened by the ruins and broken ground, and he would be able to pass in comparative shelter from one flank to the other, and so surprise the enemy by falling upon them where least expected.

As they approached the scene of action, the Garibaldians left the road, scattering themselves in skirmishing order on either side, and working their way along through the ruins, which so covered their advance, that it was only occasionally that a glimpse of a red shirt or the gleam of the sun on a musket-barrel showed the enemy that their assailants were approaching. On ground like this horses were of little use, and Garibaldi ordered all the junior members of his staff to dismount, fasten their horses in places of shelter, and advance on foot with the troops, as he should not require their services during the fight.

CHAPTER VIII.
PALERMO

FRANK’S heart beat fast with the excitement of the moment. Save himself, there was not one of Garibaldi’s own men but was accustomed to the sound of artillery, and he could scarcely restrain himself from starting when on a sudden the Neapolitan batteries opened fire, and their missiles struck rocks and walls round him, or burst overhead.

“It is not so bad as it looks,” Rubini, whom he joined as he ran forward, said with a laugh.

“It is fortunate that it is not,” Frank replied; “it certainly sounds bad enough, but, as I don’t think they can see us at all, it can only be a random fire.”

He soon shook off the feeling of uneasiness which he could not at first repress, and presently quitted his friend and pushed forward on his own account, keeping close to the road and abreast of Garibaldi, so that he could run up and receive any orders that might be given. It was not long before the enemy opened a musketry fire. The guns had been following Garibaldi, and he now superintended them as they were run into position, three on either side of the road. They were not placed at regular distances, but each was posted where the men would, while loading, be sheltered behind walls, from which the guns could be run out, wheeled round and fired, and then withdrawn. Frank was not long in joining the Garibaldian line, which was lying in shelter at the foot of the declivity.

In front of them was a level space of ground with a few little farmhouses dotted here and there. On the opposite side of this the hills rose much more steeply. Near the summit were the main body of the Neapolitans, who were altogether about two thousand strong; an advanced guard of some five or six hundred had descended into the valley, and were moving across it; they had guns with them, which were now at work, as were others with the main body.

When Garibaldi joined his troops he at once ordered the Genoese company to attack the advancing enemy and if possible to capture the guns they had with them. Followed by a party of the Sicilians, and by Frank and several other officers who had no special duties to perform, they dashed forward. At the same moment a number of the peasants, who had made their way round on either flank unobserved, opened fire upon the Neapolitans, who at the order of the officer in command began to fall back. The Garibaldians hurled themselves upon them, and hastened the movement. The guard had no idea of making a frontal attack upon an enemy so strongly posted, and had, as Frank had heard him say before he dismounted, intended to compel them to fall back by flank attacks. He was not surprised, therefore, to hear the trumpet sounding the recall.

The summons was, however, unheard, or at any rate unheeded, by the Genoese, who continued to press hotly upon the Neapolitans; the latter had now been joined by their supporting line, and Garibaldi saw that the small party, who were now almost surrounded, must be destroyed, unless he advanced to their assistance. The trumpet accordingly sounded the charge, and the men sprang to their feet and dashed forward at full speed. The fighting had been hand to hand, and the Garibaldians had only gained the advantage so far from the fact that they were accustomed to fight each for himself, and were individually more powerful men; it was indeed their habit, in all their fights, to rely on the bayonet, and they still pressed forward. Frank was now as cool and collected as he would have been in a football match, and had several times to congratulate himself on the training he had received in the use of his sword, having two combats with Neapolitan officers, and each time coming off victorious.

Presently, in front of him, he saw one of the Neapolitan standards. In the confusion it had been left almost unguarded; and calling to three or four of the men around him, he dashed at it. There was a short, sharp fight: the men standing between him and the flag fell before the bayonets of the Garibaldians. Frank engaged in a tough encounter with the officer who held the flag, and finally cutting him down, seized the staff and carried it back into the Garibaldian ranks.

“Well done, well done, Percival!” He turned and saw Garibaldi himself, who, at the head of his main body, had that instant arrived.

The Neapolitans, although also reinforced, fell back up the hill. The face of the ascent was composed of a series of natural terraces, and as they retreated up these, a storm of fire from the reserve at the top of the hill and the cannon there, was poured upon the Garibaldians. The general halted his men for a minute or two at the foot of the lower terrace, where they were sheltered by the slope from the missiles of the enemy; they were re-formed, and then re-commenced the ascent. It was hot work; the ground was very steep, and swept by the enemy’s fire. As each terrace was gained, the men rushed across the level ground and threw themselves down panting at the foot of the next slope, where they were to some extent sheltered. Two or three minutes, and they made their next rush. But little return to the enemy’s fire was attempted, for the wretched muskets with which they had been supplied at Genoa were practically useless, and only the Genoese, who had brought their own carbines, and were excellent shots, did much execution.

Several times the Neapolitans attempted to make a stand, but were as often driven back. On this occasion, however, they fought well and steadily; the terror of Garibaldi’s name had ceased to have its effect during the twelve years that had elapsed since Ferdinand’s army had fled before him, but the desire to wipe out that disgrace no doubt inspired them, and Garibaldi afterwards gave them full credit for the obstinacy with which they had contested his advance. At last the uppermost terrace was reached; there was one more halt for breath, and then the Garibaldians went forward with a cheer. The resistance was comparatively slight: the Neapolitan troops at first engaged had already exhausted their ammunition, and had become disheartened at their failure to arrest the impetuous assault of their enemies; and when the Garibaldians reached the summit of the hill, they found that the enemy were in full retreat.

Exhausted by their efforts, and having suffered heavy loss, they made a short halt; the horses of the general and his staff were brought up by the small party who had been left with the guns, and who had advanced across the plain at some little distance in the rear of the fighting line. As soon as they arrived the advance continued until the little army halted at Calatafimi, some miles from the scene of battle. The Garibaldians had captured only one cannon, a few rifles, and a score or two of prisoners, for the most part wounded; but by the defeat of the enemy they had gained an enormous advantage, for, as the news spread throughout the country, its dimensions growing as it flew, it created great enthusiasm, and from every town and village men poured down to join the army of liberation.

The Neapolitan governor had indeed made a fatal mistake in not placing a much larger force in the field for the first engagement. The troops fought bravely, and though beaten, were by no means disgraced; and had they been supported by powerful artillery, and by a couple of regiments of cavalry, which could have charged the Garibaldians in the plain, the battle would have had a very different result.

At Calatafimi the Garibaldians halted. The Neapolitan wounded had been left here; their own had, when the fighting ceased, been sent back to Vita. The inhabitants vied with each other in hospitality to them, and although saddened by the loss of many of their bravest comrades, all regarded the victory they had won as an augury of future success. Already the country had risen; the Neapolitans in their retreat had been harassed, and numbers of them killed by the peasants; every hour swelled the force, and next morning they set out in the highest spirits, and with a conviction that success would attend them. And yet there were grave difficulties to be met, for ten thousand Neapolitans were massed in two formidable positions on the road by which it was believed that the Garibaldians must advance, and twelve thousand remained in garrison at Palermo. That evening they reached Alcamo, a large town, where they were received with enthusiasm. The excitement was even more lively when the next day they entered Partinico, where the inhabitants, who had been brutally treated by the Neapolitans in their advance, had risen when they passed through as fugitives, and massacred numbers of them, and pursued them a considerable distance along the road to Palermo. At this point the Garibaldians left the road, and ascended to the plateau of Renne, and thence looked down on the rich plain in which Palermo stands, and on the city itself. Here two days of tremendous rain prevented farther movement.

“You are now seeing the rough side of campaigning, Percival,” Rubini said, with a laugh, as the four friends sat together in a little arbour they had erected, and over the top of which were thrown two of their blankets.

“It is not very pleasant, certainly,” Frank agreed; “but it might be a good deal worse; it is wet, but it is not cold, and we are not fasting; we each of us laid in a good stock of provisions when at Partinico, but I certainly never anticipated that we should have to rely upon telegraph poles for a supply of fuel: it is lucky that the wires run across here, for we should certainly have had to eat our meat raw, or go without, if it hadn’t been for them.”

None of the men appeared to mind the discomfort; the supply of wood was too precious to be used except for cooking purposes, and indeed it would be of no use for the men to attempt to dry their clothes until the downpour ceased. Two days later, the enemy having sent out a strong reconnoitring party, Garibaldi determined to cross the mountains and come down upon the main southern road from Palermo. Officers had been sent to the various towns on that road to summon all true men to join. The force started in the evening and performed a tremendous march; the guns were lashed to poles and carried on the men’s shoulders, the boxes of ammunition were conveyed in the same manner. The rain continued incessantly, and there was a thick fog which added greatly to the difficulties. It was not until daylight that the head of the column began to straggle into Parco, on the southern road.

They at once seized some commanding positions round the place, and began to throw up entrenchments, but as Parco was commanded by hills, it could not be defended against a determined attack. Two days later two strong columns marched out from Palermo. The first advanced by the road that crossed the valley, and threatened the Garibaldian rear by the passage through the hills known as the pass of Piana dei Greci. Garibaldi at once sent off his artillery and baggage by the road, and with a company of his cacciatori and a body of the new levies, who were known as picciotti, hurried to the pass, which they reached before the Neapolitans arrived there. On their opening fire, the Neapolitans, thinking that they had the whole Garibaldian force in front of them in an extremely strong position, retired at once. Finding that the freedom of his movements would be embarrassed by his cannon, which under the most advantageous circumstances could not contend against those of the enemy, he sent them away along the southern road, while he withdrew his force from Parco, and for a short time followed the guns; he then turned off into the mountains and directed his march to Misilmeri, a few miles from Palermo, having completely thrown the enemy off his track. The pursuing column, believing that the whole Garibaldian force was retreating with its guns, pushed on rapidly, while Garibaldi had already turned the strong position of Monreale, and was preparing to attack the town.

His force had here been increased by the volunteers who had arrived from the southern villages. The Neapolitan general, Lanza, soon obtained information as to the invader’s position, and prepared with absolute confidence to meet his attack, which must, he believed, be made by the coast road. On the evening of the 26th Garibaldi moved across the country by a little-frequented track, and the next morning appeared on the road entering the town at the Termini gate. The twelve thousand Neapolitan troops who still remained in the town had no suspicion that their foe was near. The day before, the commander of the column that had passed through Parco had sent in the news that he was in hot pursuit of the Garibaldians, who were flying in all directions, and the governor had given a banquet in honour of the rout of the brigands. The military bands had played on the promenade, and the official portion of the population had been wild with joy.

On the other hand, messages had passed constantly between Garibaldi’s agents and the leaders of the patriotic party in the town, who had promised that the population would rise as soon as he entered the city. It was upon this promise that the general based his hopes of success; for that three thousand badly armed men could hope to overcome twelve thousand troops, well supported by artillery, and defending the town street by street, seemed impossible even to so hopeful a spirit. No time was lost. The Garibaldians rushed forward, drove in at once an outpost stationed beyond the barriers at the gate, and carried the barricades, before the troops could muster in sufficient force to offer any serious resistance.

But beyond this the opposition became obstinate and fierce; the cacciatori pressed forward by the principal street, the bands of picciotti distracted the attention of the enemy by advancing by parallel streets, and, although the cannon of the Castello Mare thundered, pouring shot and shell broadcast into the quarter through which the Garibaldians were advancing, and though from the large convent of San Antonio, held by a battalion of bersaglieri, a terrible fire was maintained upon the flank of the cacciatori at a distance of a couple of hundred yards, they nevertheless pressed on, clearing the street of the troops who opposed their advance, until they reached the square in the centre of the city.

All this time the guns of the Neapolitan ships-of-war had been pouring a fierce fire into the town, with the apparent object of deterring the populace from rising, for it was upon private houses that the damage was committed, and was, so far as the Garibaldians were concerned, innoxious. For a short time the object was attained: so terrible was the fire that swept the principal streets leading down to the water, so alarming the din of exploding shells and falling walls, that for a short time the populace dared not venture from their houses; but fury succeeded to alarm, and it was not long before the inhabitants flocked out into the streets, and under the direction of Colonel Acerbi, one of the most distinguished officers of the thousand, began to erect barricades. These sprang up with marvellous rapidity; carts were wheeled out from the courtyards and overturned, men laboured with pickaxes and crowbars tearing up the pavements, women threw out mattresses from the windows; all worked with enthusiasm.

Garibaldi established himself at the Pretorio Palace, the central point of the city; and here the members of the revolutionary committee joined him. His staff were sent off in all directions to order all the bands scattered throughout the city to assemble there. The people of Palermo were wholly without firearms, as all weapons of the kind had been confiscated by the authorities; but armed with hatchets, axes, knives fastened to the end of sticks and poles to act as pikes, long spits and other improvised weapons, they prepared to defend the barricades. A few, indeed, brought out muskets which had been hidden away when all the houses had been searched for weapons, but the greatest difficulty was experienced from the want of powder.

Garibaldi now stationed his forces so as to intercept all communications between the various points where the Neapolitan troops were concentrated. Lanza himself, who was at once commander-in-chief and viceroy, was with several regiments at the royal palace.

The Castello Mare was held by a strong force, and there were some regiments at the palace of finance. These points they had only reached after hard fighting; but once there they were isolated from each other, and to join hands they would have to pass along streets blocked by barricades, and defended by a desperate population, and exposed to the fire of the Garibaldians from every window and roof.

That night hundreds of men and women were set to work to grind charcoal, sulphur, and saltpetre, to mix them together to form a rough gunpowder, and then to make it up into cartridges. Such a compound would have been useless for ordinary purposes, but would have sufficient strength for street fighting, where it was but necessary to send a bullet some twenty or thirty yards with sufficient force to kill.

The fire of the fleet, Castello Mare, and the palace was maintained all day. The town was on fire in many places. A whole district a thousand yards in length and a hundred yards wide had been laid in ashes, convents and churches had been crushed by shells, and a large number of the inhabitants had been killed by grape and cannister; but after four hours’ fighting there was a lull in the musketry fire: the Neapolitans were gathered in their three strong places, and were virtually besieged there. In spite of the continued cannonade, the populace thronged the streets which were not in the direct line of fire, the bells of the churches pealed out triumphantly; bright curtains, cloths and flags were hung out from the balconies, friends embraced each other with tears of joy; while numbers continued to labour at the barricades, the monks and clergy joining in the work, all classes being wild with joy at their deliverance from the long and crushing tyranny to which they had been subjected.

Frank had entered the city with the chosen band, who had led the attack on the Termini gate, and advanced with them into the heart of the city. In the wild excitement of the fight he had lost all sense of danger; he saw others fall around him, his cheek had been deeply gashed by a bullet, but he had scarce felt the pain, and was almost surprised when a man close to him offered to bind up his wound with his sash. One of the first orders that Garibaldi gave, after establishing himself at the Pretorio Palace was to send for him.

“Lieutenant Percival,” he said, “I commit to you the honour of leading a party to the prisons, and liberating all the political prisoners you find there. You have won that distinction by having, in the first place, captured the flag of the tyrants at Calatafimi, and also by the gallant manner in which you have fought in the first rank to-day. I marked your conduct, and it was worthy of your brave father. I can give it no higher praise.”

Taking twenty men with him, Frank went to the prisons. On entering each, he demanded from the officials a list of all prisoners confined, and the offences with which they were charged, so that no criminals should be released with the political prisoners. He hardly needed the list, however, for the criminals were but few in number, the Neapolitan authorities not having troubled themselves with such trifles as robberies and assassinations, but the prisons were crowded with men of the best blood in the city and the surrounding country, who had been arrested upon the suspicion of holding liberal opinions, and who were treated with very much greater severity than were the worst malefactors. The thunder of the guns had already informed them that a terrible conflict was going on, but it was not until Frank and his men arrived that the prisoners knew who were the parties engaged, and their joy and gratitude was unbounded when they learned that they were free, now and for ever, from the power of their persecutors.

As they marched to the prison, several of the men had shouted to the crowd, “We are going to free the captives.” The news had spread like wildfire, and as the prisoners issued from the jail they were met by their friends and relatives, and the most affecting scenes took place. Although Frank considered it unlikely in the extreme that persons arrested on the mainland would be carried across to the island, he insisted on the warders accompanying him over the whole prison and unlocking every door, in spite of their protestations that the cells were empty. Having satisfied himself on this head, he went to the other prisons, where similar scenes took place.

The fire of the Neapolitan ships was kept up until nightfall, and then ceased, rather from the exhaustion of the gunners, who had been twelve hours at work, than from any difficulty in sighting their guns; for in Palermo it was almost as light as day, the whole city being lit up by the tremendous conflagration, and in addition every house save those facing the port was illuminated, candles burning at every window. Throughout the night work was carried on, fresh barricades were erected, and others greatly strengthened. It was all-important that the three bodies of troops, isolated from each other, should not effect a junction. Boats were sent off to the merchant ships in the harbour in order to purchase powder, but none could be obtained; however, by morning so much had been manufactured that with what still remained in the Garibaldian pouches there was enough for the day’s fighting.

At Garibaldi’s headquarters there was no sleep that night: the revolutionary committee received orders from the general where the armed citizens were to take their posts at the barricades, and how their men were to be divided into sections. They were to impress upon all that, though the fighting must be desperate, it could not last long. At the royal palace there were no provisions of any kind for the troops stationed there, nor were there any in the palace of finance; so that if the struggle could be maintained for another day or two at the most, the troops would be driven to surrender by starvation.