nteers in their rush on the foe? In vain the trumpets
sounded a halt; our men did not hear, or imitated Nelson's conduct at
the Battle of Copenhagen. They turned a deaf ear to the order to halt
sounded by the trumpets, and with their bayonets drove the enemy's van
back on their main body.

There was not a moment to be lost, or that gallant handful would have
perished. Immediately a general charge was sounded, and the entire corps
of the Thousand, accompanied by some courageous Sicilians and Calabrese,
marched at a quick pace to the rescue.

The enemy had abandoned the plain, but, falling back on the heights
where their reserve was, held firm and defended their position with a
dogged valor worthy of a better cause. The most dangerous part of the
ground we had to cross was the level valley separating us from the
enemy, where we had to face a storm of cannon- and musket-balls which
wounded a good many of our men. Arrived at the foot of Monte Romano, we
were almost sheltered from attack; and at this point the Thousand,
somewhat diminished in number, closed up to the vanguard.

The situation was supreme; we were bound to win. In this determination
we began to ascend the first ledge of the mountain, under a hail of
bullets. I do not remember how many, but there were certainly several
terraces to be gained before reaching the crest of the heights, and
every time we climbed from one terrace to the next--during which
operation we were totally unprotected--we were under a tremendous fire.
The orders given to our men to fire but few shots were well adapted to
the wretched weapons presented to us by the Sardinian Government, which
nearly always missed fire. On this occasion, too, great service was
rendered by the gallant Genoese, who, being excellent shots and armed
with good carbines, sustained the honor of our cause. This ought to be
an encouragement to all young Italians to exercise themselves in the use
of arms, in the conviction that valor alone is not enough on modern
battlefields; great dexterity in the use of weapons is also necessary.

Calatafimi! The survivor of a hundred battles, if in my last moments my
friends see me smile once more with pride, it will be at the
recollection of that fight--for I remember none more glorious. The
Thousand, attired just as at home, worthy representatives of their
people, attacked--with heroic coolness, fighting their way from one
formidable position to another--the soldiers of tyranny,