bleeding as they were, performed the duty. And yet all this time, an admirable contrast, the assembly in permanence deliberated calmly and impassibly in the Capitol under bullets and balls.

As long as one of our pieces of cannon remained upon its carriage it replied, but on the evening of the 29th the last was dismounted. Our fire was ex

tinguished! The breach made at the bastion No. 8 was practicable. The wall of the St. Pancrazio gate and the bastion No. 9 were crumbling away. The night, therefore, of the 29th fell upon Rome like a winding-sheet to prevent the reparation of our breaches; the French artillery thundered all night. That was a terrible night! the tempest of the heavens was mingled with that of the earth. The thunder growled responsively to the cannon, the lightning crossed the fire of the bombs, thunderbolts fell in two or three places, as if to render the city sacred. In spite of the festival of St. Peter, the two armies maintained their duel to the death.

At

When night came on, as an attack was expected in the darkness, the whole city was illuminated in all parts, even the grand cupola of the Vatican. This is, however, the custom at Rome, in the night of the festival of St. Peter. He who during that night had fixed his looks upon the Eternal City, would have beheld a spectacle which the eyes of man can only expect to contemplate once in the course of ages. his feet he would have seen stretch out a large valley filled with churches and palaces, cut in two by the winding of the Tiber, which appeared a Phlegethon ; on the left of a hill the Capitol, upon the tower of which floated to the wind the flag of the Roman Republic. On the right, the dark profile of Monte Mario, upon which, on the contrary, floated the united flags of the French and the Pope; in the background the cupola of Michael Angelo, rising up amidst the night, all crowned with light; and as a frame to the

grand picture, the janicula and the whole line of St. Pancrazio, illumined also but by the lightning of cannons and muskets.

And then, by the side of all this, something still more grand than the shock of matter-the struggle of good and evil-the principles of the Lord and the principles of Satan-of Arimanes and Oromanes-the struggle of the sovereignty of the people against right divine-of liberty against despotism, of the religion of Christ against the religion of the Popes.

At midnight the heavens cleared, the thunder and the cannons ceased, and silence succeeded to the infernal combustion-but a silence in which the French approached the walls stealthily, and took possession of the last breach made at bastion No. 8. At two o'clock in the morning, three reports of cannon, fired at equal distances of time, were heard. The sentinels cried to arms, the trumpets sounded; the Bersaglieri, always ready, always indefatigable, marched out from the Villa Spada, and hastened to the gate of St. Pancrazio. Leaving two companies of reserve to guard the Villa Spada, they plunged up to their knees in moistened earth.

I placed myself at their head, sword in hand, singing the popular hymn of Italy. At that moment, I confess so completely was I discouraged with regard to the future, that I had but one wish, and that was to be killed. I threw myself with them on the French; of what took place I know nothing.* During an hour

This is the way in which the historian Vecchi, one of the most courageous defenders of Rome, describes this fight :-"We were shut up in the Villa Spada, where we maintained a fearful fire of muskets and carbines. We were beginning to be short of ammunition, when General Garibaldi made his appearance with a column of legionaries, and some soldiers of the 6th regiment of the line, commanded by Pari. Determined as he was to strike a last blow, not for the safety, but for the honour of Rome, united again with our companions, we rushed to the breach, striking with the lance, the sword, and the bayonet ; powder and ball were wanting. The French, astonished at this fierce shock,

I continued to strike without ceasing; when daylight came I was covered with blood; I had not a single wound, which was a miracle. It was in this affair that Lieutenant Morosini, a poor youth who had not attained his twentieth year, and who fought like a hero, was killed on refusing to surrender. In the

middle of the sanguinary mêlée a message arrived from the assembly; they desired me to come to the Capitol. I owe my life to that message; but for it I should have got myself killed. As I was descending towards the Longara with Vecchi, who was a member of the Constituent, I learnt that my poor negro, Agayur, had just been killed. He was holding ready an exchange horse for me, when a ball passed through his head. I felt deeply grieved; I lost much more than a servant, I lost a friend.

Mazzini had already announced to the assembly the position we now stood in: there remained, he said, but three parts to take to treat with the French, to defend the city from barricade to barricade; or to leave the city, assembly, triumvirate, and army, carrying away with them the palladium of Roman liberty.

When I appeared at the door of the chamber, all the deputies rose and applauded. I looked about me, and upon myself to see what it was that awakened their enthusiasm. I was covered with blood; my clothes were pierced with balls and bayonet thrusts; my sabre

drew back at first, but others soon came up. At the same time, the artillery pointed against us began to carry away whole files at once. The Aurelian enclosure was taken and retaken; there was no room to place a foot without treading upon the wounded or the dead. Garibaldi that night was greater than I had ever seen him, greater than anybody had ever seen him. His sword was like lightning, every man he struck fell dead. The blood of a new adversary washed off the blood of him who had just fallen. He might have been thought Leonidas at Thermopylæ, Ferruceio at the Castle of Gavinova. I trembled in expectation of seeing him fall, from one instant to another. But no; he remained erect as a destiny.

was so bent with striking, that it was not more than half in the sheath. They cried: "To the tribune! to the tribune!" and I mounted it. I was interrogated on all sides.

"All defence is henceforth impossible," replied I, "unless we are resolved to make Rome another Saragossa. On the 9th of February I proposed a military dictatorship, that alone was able to place on foot a hundred thousand armed men. The living elements still subsisted; they were to be sought for, and they would have been found in one courageous man. At that period audacity was repulsed, little means prevailed. I could not urge the argument further; I yielded, modesty restrained me, for I confess I might have been that man. I was in this wanting to the sacred principle which is the idol of my heart. If I had been attended to, the Roman eagle would again have made its eyry upon the towers of the Capitol ; and with my brave men-and my brave men know how to die, it is pretty well known-I might have changed the face of Italy. But there is no remedy for that which is done. Let us view with head erect the conflagration of which we no longer are the masters. Let us take with us from Rome all of the volunteer army who are willing to follow us. Where we shall be Rome will be. I pledge myself to nothing; but all that my men can do that I will do and whilst it takes refuge in us our country shall not die."

But this proposition, already made by Mazzini, was rejected. Henry Cernuschi himself, the brave Cernuschi, one of the heroes of the five Milanese days, the president of the commission, rejected it. He succeeded me in the tribune, and with tears in his eyes, and a broken voice: "You all know," said he, "whether I am an ardent defender of my country and the people. Well, then, it is I who tell you we have not a single obstacle left to oppose to the French, and Rome and her good people"-tears choked his utter

ance "must resign themselves to the occupation." After a short deliberation, the Assembly issued the following decree :

THE ROMAN REPUBLIC.

In the name of God and the people.

"The Roman Constituent Assembly discontinues a defence which has become impossible. It has its post. "The triumvirate are charged with the execution of the present decree."

CHAPTER LIX.

WHO LOVES ME, FOLLOWS ME.

On the 2nd of July, I assembled the troops in the Place of the Vatican. I advanced into the centre of them, and I announced to them that I quitted Rome to carry into the provinces revolt against the Austrians, the King of Naples, and Pio IX., and I added:

"Whoever is willing to follow me shall be received among my people. I require nothing of them but hearts filled with love for their country. They will have no pay, no rest-bread and water when by chance they can find any. Whoever is not satisfied with this fate had better remain here. The gates of Rome once passed, every step backward will be a step towards death."

Four thousand foot and nine hundred horse ranged themselves around me; these constituted two-thirds of the defenders of Rome that were left. Anita, dressed as a man, Ciccemacchio, who would not stay to witness the degradation of his country, and Ugo Bassi, the saint who aspired to martyrdom, were the first to join me.

Towards evening we quitted Rome by the Tivoli gate; my heart was sad as death. The last news I heard was that Manara was killed.

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