scribe his double martyrdom as a father and as a citizen.

I have more than once named Ugo Bassi, our chaplain; let us consecrate also a few pages to him: they are quite in their place on the evening and night of a battle which had put his mild piety to such a rough test. For our wounded, Ugo Bassi, young, handsome, and eloquent, was really the angel of death. He possessed at once the simplicity of a child, the faith of a martyr, the knowledge of a scholar, and the calm courage of a hero.

He was born at Cento of a Bolognese father, but, like André Chenier, of a Greek mother. His name was Joseph, but on becoming a Barnabite he had assumed that of Ugo, in remembrance no doubt of our patriotic poet Ugo Foscolo. He was thus at once of both Latin and Hellenic race-the two finest and most intelligent races in the world. His hair was brown, and curled in natural ringlets; his eyes were brilliant as the sun, sometimes calm, sometimes exceedingly animated; his mouth smiling, his neck white and long; his limbs agile and robust, his heart afire for glory and danger; his instincts mild and honest; his mind elevated, warm, rapid; born at once for the pious contemplation of the anchorite and the irresistible ardours of apostleship. His studies were not a labour but a conquest. He gained a knowledge of literature, science, and the arts, with miraculous quickness; and as the mirror of all knowledge he knew the whole poem of Dante by heart. Six months sufficed for his learning Greek; as to Latin he spoke it as if it were his maternal language, and made verses in the spirit of those of Horace. He wrote fluently both English and French, and when events led him into the midst of the fire and noise of battles he constantly carried about him Shakspeare and Byron-the English tragic writer and the poet who died at Missolonghi heard the patriotic pulsations of his heart. Besides all this, he was a painter and a musician.

As I myself had written to Pio Nono, so had Ugo Bassi. Pio IX. succeeded Gregory XVI. Pio IX. gave the amnesty. Pio IX. promised reforms. Pio IX. was carried to the heavens by the Italians, admired by foreigners, imitated by the other princes of Italy.

On the 2nd of May, 1848, the crusade departed from Rome; the auguries perfectly announced that Italy would soon all be one. His journey was a perpetual triumph. The stern Latin race flocked from the most remote plains; they came to seek and carried back the happy news that Italy had arrived at the day of resurrection, and that her people, with brows at the same time wet with sweat and blood, were about at length to be free.

Ugo Bassi was at Ancona, where he was preaching during Lent. The first legion of the volunteers came there; Ugo harangued them on the Place, and taking his argument from the wretched state in which he saw their arms and clothes, he idealized their wants, of which our enemies made a ridicule, with his powerful words. Two days after, he joined the crusade, and set out with it as second chaplain to the Roman volunteers.

Bassi, and Gavazzi his friend, were a Providence to the army. His powerful eloquence not only raised the Italians to the love of Italy and a devotion for her, but it drew from the most rebellious coffers, numerous and rich offerings. At Bologna he worked miracles ; the rich gave money by thousands; the women gave their jewels, their rings, and their ear-rings. One young girl having nothing to give him, cut off her magnificent hair, and offered it to him. He was present at all our battles and at all our acts of devotedness, at Courcida, at Treviso, at Venice. A sister of charity, an apostle, an intrepid soldier, it was above all at the battle of Treviso, where his friend and companion, General Guidotti died, that he displayed all the virtues of his heart. A ball mutilated his hand and left arm, and opened a large wound in his chest. While still

pale and suffering from his cruel wound, he was seen at the fight of Mestre, a flag in his hand, mounting first, and without arms, to the assault of the Palace Bianchini.

Bassi accompanied the Italian legion in all its peregrinations. His powerful word fascinated the people, and if God had marked a term to the misfortunes of Italy, the voice of Bassi, like that of St. Bernard, might have drawn whole populations to the field of battle. If Italy ever comes to be united, may God restore her the voice of a Ugo Bassi. When Rome had fallenwhen nothing was left for me but exile, hunger, and misery-Ugo Bassi did not hesitate a moment to accompany me.

I received him in my bark at Cesenatro, and he shared with me the last smile of destiny-its farewell smile. In that bark, which I guided with my own hand, were Anita, Ugo Bassi, Cicera Vecchia, and his two sons. All are dead, and in what a manner! Oh, sacred dead! I will relate your martyrdom.

The name of Ugo Bassi will be the watchword of the Italians on the day of vengeance.

But I am allowing myself to be drawn away from my object. Let us return to the siege of Rome.

CHAPTER LVI.

THE SIEGE.

IN the night of the 4th of June, whilst our adversaries were feigning an attack upon the gate St. Pancrazio, the trenches were opened at three hundred metres from the place, and two siege batteries were got up, one at a hundred metres behind the parallel to answer to the fire of the battery No. 6, the other on the right of the parallel to face the Roman battery of Tertascio and of St. Alexis. The parallel was supported on the right by some unassailable heights, on the left by the Villa Pamphili.

At daybreak I sent for Manara, and begged him to

resign his title of Colonel of the Bersaglieri, and accept the rank of chief of my staff. This was, I knew, asking him to make a great sacrifice, but Manara was more fit than any one for that post; he was possessed of extraordinary valour, of rare self-possession in the midst of danger, of a sure and piercing eye in fight; he had made the Bersaglieri the best disciplined troops in the army; he spoke four languages. To crown all, he carried himself with that dignity which so well becomes superior rank. He accepted my offer.

The rest of my staff was composed of Majors Cenni and Bueno; Captains Carenni and David; of two excellent French officers, named Peltres and Lavireo; of Captain Cecaddi, who, during his service in Spain and Africa had earned the Cross of Spain and the Cross of the Legion of Honour; of Sisco and Stagnetti, who at Palestrina led the emigrants; of Fili, a lieutenant of cavalry; of the carrier Giamruzzi; and lastly, of a member of the chamber, Captain Cessi.

Manara, in the first place, organized the staff in the interior. Everybody wanted to remain with me in the Villa Savarelli. We had full sight of the open country, and nothing went on unobserved or unseen by us. It is true that this advantage was not without danger. It being known that the Villa Savarelli was my headquarters, bullets, obus and cannon balls were all meant for me. This was particularly the case when, in order to have a better view, I ascended a little belvedere which surmounted my house; it really became curious to see the tempest of balls, and I can safely say I never heard a tempest make such a hissing noise in my life. The balls made the house shake as if in an earthquake; and frequently, to afford this amusement to the French artillerymen and tirailleurs, I had my breakfast served in the belvedere, which had no other protection than a little wooden parapet, and then I can assure my readers I had music to my meal which dispensed with the services of my regimental band.

This became worse when some mischievous joker of

U

the staff hoisted upon a lightning conductor which surmounted the little terrace a banner, on which was inscribed in large letters

Good Day! Cardinal Oudinot !

On the fourth or fifth day that I had given this distraction to the French artillerymen and tirailleurs, General Avezzana came to see me, and finding the window of the salon of not sufficient height, he asked me if I had not some more elevated place from which he could look into the plain. I led him up to my

belvedere. There is no doubt the French wished to do him honour, for the moment we arrived the usual music commenced. The General surveyed the enemy's advanced posts very tranquilly, and then descended without saying a word. The next day I found the openings of my belvedere stopped with sacks of earth. I demanded who had given the order for this, and was told it was the Minister of War. There was no means of opposing the orders of the Minister of War.

This rage of the French artillerymen to riddle my poor head-quarters with bullets, balls, and obus, sometimes produced scenes sufficiently amusing. One day, it was the 6th or 7th of June, I think, my friend Vecchi, who was at once an actor in, and the historian of, the drama we were representing, came to see me at our dinner-hour. As I had some people there, I had ordered a dinner from Rome, which was brought in a tin case. I perceived that the sight of our little setout tempted Vecchi, and I in consequence asked him to partake with us; General Avezzana and Constantine Rita were there likewise. We sat down on the ground in the garden; the balls shook the house in such a manner that if we had attempted to eat upon a table, we must have had one of those apparatuses that are placed upon the tables of ships when bad weather prevails. In the very middle of the dinner a bomb fell within a metre of us, and all jumped up and de