in the roof than a room. It was not more than
eight feet long, and only at one end of this hole
could I stand upright.

"As it was in September, a terrible hot month
here, I was half suffocated; the ceiling, being
immediately under the roof, was so hot that I
could not hold my hand upon it, and I passed
my time all day, and more than half the night,
leaning my forehead against the little iron grating,
miscalled a window, for so only could I get
a breath of air. I cannot tell how I escaped a
brain fever. From this little grating I could
just see the Paradise, your Lord Byron's house,
on the top of the Albaro hill. As I was al
segreto, I had at least the good fortune to be
alone in my den. The cells on each side of mine
contained six prisoners, and they had not more
than a yard and a half of space to each man.

"After these first horrible eight days, however,
partly owing to the interest shown for me by
English friends, and still more to the untiring
energy of my wife, who daily worried the
authorites about me, I was removed to the tolerably
decent cell where I now am writing to you, and
thinking of your pretty home in free England,
its trees and flowers, and the fresh air on the
lawn, where the baby tumbled down for ever,
without hurt, and where we took coffee, and had
so many pleasant talks." ...

                                                " 21st.

"In the next cell to mine, is a wretched
priest, a native of Sardinia, who was condemned
to six years of this hell on earth, for having
attempted to aid the escape of his nephews from
the conscription. He is the most miserable
object you can conceive. Having already passed
more than four years here, the few clothes he
has are hanging about him in filthy shreds and
tatters; he has no other bed than a wretched
sack of horribly dirty straw, on which, to use
his own expression, he lies down at night,
hungry, to rise in the morning, famished." . . .

                                                 " Nov. 15.

"As I have been somewhat ill lately, in
consequence of want of air and exercise, my wife has
at last succeeded in obtaining permission for me
to have my door open during some hours of
the day, and to walk up and down the ante-room,
into which my cell, that of the priest,
and two others, open. Of course this is under
the constant survegliance of two jailers. On
these occasions I always put some of my bread
into my pocket, and when the jailer's attention
is attracted elsewhere, I contrive to throw it
through the soupirail in the priest's door. The
first time I did so I felt myself blush, for it
seemed like throwing a bone to a dog; but with
the eagerness of a half-starved dog he devoured
it, and soon after, I saw him looking out at
me, nodding, smiling, and kissing his hand, in
token of gratitude.

"Nor would you wonder at this, if you could
see the food allowed by the government to these
unfortunates. In the morning, the jailers give
them two little loaves, weighing about a quarter
kilo each, and perfectly black. This bread has
the peculiar quality of causing severe pains in
the stomach, and it is many months before
hunger and habit combined, accustom the poor
prisoners to digest it. My jailer confessed to
me that he would not venture to eat of it himself
on any account.

"About noon the jailer reappears, carrying a
greasy tin vessel, full of a filthy liquid, called,
in mockery, soup, in which a few rare grains of
rice, previously soaked in oil, swim about like
slimy little islands in a huge Atlantic. Of this
deplorable mixture he ladles forth somewhat
less than a quart to each prisoner, and I assure
you it makes the heart ache to hear their
entreaties for a little more, only a little more!
Many times have I tried to induce the jailer's
cat—who pays me many friendly visits, and
eagerly eats of my bread—to venture upon either
the bread or soup given to the prisoners, but
the judicious animal invariably refuses. I have
often tasted the farinha de pao, which forms the
staple food of the slaves in Brazil, and I can assure
you that it is a true bonbon in comparison to the
food given to Garibaldi's amnestied followers,
who are still imprisoned here. The very supply
of water is insufficient in quantity, and so inferior
in quality, that I never venture to drink it
untempered by cognac." ....

                                                            " 18th.

"Of the jailers in the criminal part of the
prison I know nothing, but it would be difficult
for them to be worse than those who embitter
the evils of detention in the part where I am.
The head jailer, No. 1, is a Lombard, and served
in the same capacity under Austria; the second
is a Modenese, and was both police-officer and
spy under the late duke; the third—one of the
vilest of human beings—is a Bolognese, and
before coming here he served for eighteen years
as jailer in one of the Papal prisons. Thus
you see the Piedmontese government is faithful
even here to its invariable custom of employing
and rewarding those who have been the willing
tools of the tyrannies it has been called upon to
replace, rather than those who have aided in
their overthrow." ....

                                                         " 20th.

"The special qualification of the head jailer
is a singular ingenuity in robbing his victims of
a large per-centage upon every franc he spends
for them. Of course we are not allowed to
have money in our own keeping, but are
compelled to leave it in his hands, and receive from
him a highly imaginative document, which he
calls an account of our expenditure, every week.
These fanciful statistics are no doubt diverting
enough to him to compose, but I find it difficult
to see the joke when I examine them. The
jailer, No. 2, carries these little amiable
weaknesses rather further. If I rashly leave my cell
to walk up and down the ante-room without
remembering to cram my few valuables—cigars,
brandy-flask, &c.—into my pocket, I am sure to
find that during my short absence they have
taken wing, never to return." ....

                                                         " 21st.

"All these, however, are ills at which one