taking with them not only our pens, ink,
paper, and books, but also some of our other
property. Not one of us had escaped being robbed
of something. The fact of a few half sheets of
newspaper being found, was sufficient to compromise
the governor, who was at once recalled to
Naples, and subsequently removed to another
Bagnio, leaving us very grieved at the loss of so
humane a keeper.

The highest story of the Bagnio was called the
Reclusione, was pretty well lighted, and
commanded a splendid view of the island. This story
was inhabited by the common prisoners, but as it
occasionally happened that one was removed
to another prison, the vacancy was sold by the
chamber-keepers to the highest bidder. Thus, the
greater part of the political prisoners, who had
the means, were, from time to time, enabled to
change their tomb-like cells for a more
comfortable dwelling place. But the inconveniences
of the Reclusione—sixteen rooms crowded with
six hundred ruffians—were not trifling. This
place, formerly inhabited by ladies and cavaliers,
was now all black and sooty. During the week,
the smoke was just bearable, but on Sunday, for
at least six hours, clouds of smoke rose up from
every corner; for, on this day the prisoners
kindled fires in order to perform their cookery.
Sometimes the wind was favourable to clear the
rooms. At other times it only served to increase
the horrors of them, and a shower of soot fell
from the walls and ceiling, until the prisoners
resembled sweeps. There was a plague of flies,
too, and the usual swarm of other vermin.
During some hours of the day, the prisoners
were obliged to keep their faces veiled, to escape
the detestable insects, which seemed to increase
the more they were removed by the straw fan
which we all used to keep them off. Our best
friends in the place were the spiders, which
entrapped the vermin in their webs occasionally.
However, there was no comparison to be made
as to comfort, between the Reclusione and the
Cameroncino, where I dwelt. I had now become
much swollen, and as cadaverous as a corpse.
I could scarcely see or hear, and I tried every
means in my power to get a place in the
Reclusione. A chamber-keeper of whom I had some
slight knowledge, but who had more respect for
my purse than my person, undertook to procure
a little room for me there, which he accordingly
did. I paid about eighteen shillings for it,
besides a fine of three shillings to the society of
the chamber-keepers.

In this new cell, our jailer shut his eyes on
the money sent us by our families, and we were
enabled to bribe the officers in charge of us. Thus
each contrived to get some favour; some sought
lighter chains, others looser rings, others rings
which slipped off at pleasure, and so on. These
dearly bought indulgences lasted only as long as
the money lasted. When the captain and
turnkeys wanted to extort more from us they
pretended that a superior was coming to the Bagnio,
and, on pretence of preparing for him, took back
all the privileges they had sold. Then, after a few
days, they again offered us the same articles, on
condition that we re-bought them at their former
price. It was a system which wore us to death,
and obliged us at length to come to the resolution
of suffering everything rather than be so
robbed. But the very favours denied us were
freely granted to the chamber-keeper. When
searches were made, as they frequently were, for
poniards, they were never found in any place
belonging to a chamber-keeper, he being always
warned beforehand, that he might have time to
conceal them. If he had no place of concealment
for them, the turnkeys themselves
contrived to hide them during the search, and
then returned them. Our lives were in
continual danger, and to be preserved only by
extreme prudence and constant sacrifice of
money. The least suspicion that a political
prisoner was about to bring any accusation against
a chamber-keeper was sufficient to cause a
sentence of death to be passed upon him by this
infamous society of blood-stained men. It was
no wonder that terror penetrated all our hearts
when the minister of public works himself
increased the number of these wretches after we
had recourse to him to remove them from our
prison. It seemed to us that the government
had planned our destruction by means of the
chamber-keepers, without bringing odium on
itself. We became very watchful, and anxious
to form a party in our favour, even among these
men themselves: a plan in which we ultimately
succeeded. For five long years, we remained
under the control of that infernal society.

It is said that habit is all powerful, and the
remark is true; but the habit in which we were
of witnessing scenes of horror and crime, instead
of decreasing our apprehension, increased it.
Noise, riots, stabbings and assassinations, were
events of daily occurrence, yet we could not
grow accustomed to them. We were often
horrified at the news of a man's being killed,
but still more so when we heard of the manner
in which he was killed. I will not speak of
the many hundreds of times that poniards were
flashed before my eyes, nor of the prisoners
treacherously murdered in their sleep; but I
cannot pass over one particular deed of wanton
barbarity.

It took place a few months after I went to
live in the Reclusione. One evening, when I,
with others, had sunk into a troubled sleep, we
were aroused by a voice like the bellowing of a
bull, which echoed through our dark gloomy
rooms, striking terror into our hearts. We
listened, but the voice grew more and more faint
until it died away. The alarm was given, the
drawbridge was lowered, the prison was opened,
and a scene of confusion and uproar ensued.
A room near mine was entered, and a corpse
removed from it. The unhappy victim had
been bound hand and foot, like a sheep, placed
upon a bench, and slaughtered. It was a murder
executed by the orders of the chamber-keepers.
Morning came; but, though all the political
prisoners and many of the common criminals looked
at each other in dismay, none dared to speak,
for it was well known that the crime had been