Count Arrivabene, however, attributes this
pusillanimity to the demoralisation purposely
encouraged by the Bourbon government, and he adds
that "matters are in a fair way of changing; for,
since Sicily has been freed, it gives to the Italian
army soldiers who are worthy comrades of those
drawn from the provinces of Piedmont,
Lombardy, Tuscany, and the Æmilia."

Like most Southern races, the Sicilians are
often superstitious, and not unfrequently cruel.
The people of Messina boast of possessing an
autograph letter of the Virgin Mary; and the
inhabitants of another town say that they have
some letters written by a very singular kind
of saint — "San Diavolo" (St. Devil). The
ferocity lurking in the hot blood of these
impulsive islanders was shown in a very alarming
way in the summer of 1860, while Garibaldi was
preparing to cross the Straits into Naples. The
people of the small town of Bronte thought
they could not use their newly-acquired liberty
better than by inaugurating a communistical
movement, attended by all the horrors of the
first French revolution. The adherents of the
Bourbons were denominated "sorci" (rats),
and in less than a week some fifty of them
were slain in cold blood, and their property was
divided amongst the rabble of the town.
Educated in habits of violence and rapacity by
their former rulers, the people seemed
resolved to "better the instruction." But it
was not for such purposes that Garibaldi
had freed the Sicilians; so he sent one of his
lieutenants (Bixio) to put an end to the
outbreak, which was speedily done by a few
summary executions. It is said — whether truly or
not our author will not positively affirm — that
General Bixio was so incensed on seeing the
chief of the movement, who had himself
slaughtered ten "rats," that he drew his revolver, and
shot the culprit dead.

The Neapolitans are equally prone with the
Sicilians to commit acts of ferocity. At Villa
San Giovanni, the Bourbon troops shot a
Garibaldian soldier who had mounted on the roof of
a farm-house to exhibit a flag of truce; and
two Neapolitan officers who afterwards visited
the Liberator at his camp, to negotiate a
surrender, coolly said, in excuse for that treacherous
act, that "some wag of a sentry had let off
his musket in a freak!" In the same
"waggish" spirit, the men would sometimes turn
upon their own officers. Shortly after
Garibaldi's landing in Calabria, the Neapolitan
General Brigante was compelled to capitulate.
His soldiers looked upon this as the act of a
traitor, and they slew the unfortunate
commander in the piazza of Melito. From the first
floor of the café commanding the piazza, Count
Arrivabene, a day or two after, saw a half-dried
pool of blood, mixed with cinders. It was
there that .Brigante had been murdered and
half-burned, together with his unoffending
horse.

Some weeks later, the count himself had
practical evidence of the brutality of the Bourbon
troops. In the pacific capacity of correspondent
to a London newspaper, he was following the
movements of the two armies at the battle of
the Volturno, when he encountered a column of
Neapolitans, who, after shooting him in the
leg, made him their prisoner. One man struck
him on the head; another gave him so heavy a
blow on the shoulders that, although it was a
bright day, he appeared to see all the stars in
the heavens. About twenty Garibaldians had
been captured by the same company. These
men, together with the count, were forced to
exchange their coats and caps for those of the
Neapolitans, and to march at the front of the
column. "You will thus have a chance of being
killed by your own comrades," remarked one of
the sergeants; and it is a marvel that no such
catastrophe occurred. On entering the town of
Capua, some of the populace endeavoured to
tear the prisoners from the hands of the
military, and to kill them at once. A barber rushed
from his shop, razor in hand, and shouted out,
"Captain, let me have one of the fellows!"
Men, women, and children, showered stones on
the captives; and some of the soldiers not forming
their escort even endeavoured to cut them
down with swords, or transfix them with bayonets.
Still greater perils attended them on the
following night; for, being compelled, in their
journey to the fortress of Gaeta, to pass through
a camp of twelve thousand Neapolitans, the
soldiers who were sitting round their bivouac
fires plucked out the burning stakes, and, with
frightful howlings and execrations, threatened
the Garibaldians with instant death. But the
officer in command of the escort, who appears
to have been a noble gentleman, drove back the
infuriated troops, and in a quarter of an hour
the prisoners were clear of the camp.

Servility is one of the inevitable fruits of a
cruel and tyrannical government; and most
painful were the exhibitions of this nature
which Count Arrivabene saw in his progress
through the southern provinces. Having been
set free, owing to the interposition of the
English government, he re-entered Capua on
the 3rd of November, with the staff of
Garibaldi. The same people who a month before
had menaced the lives of the captives, now
greeted their return as conquerors, with shouts
of welcome and praise; the very barber who had
thirsted for the blood of "one of the fellows"
was amongst the most enthusiastic; and a
Neapolitan captain, who, before the capitulation,
had called Garibaldi a brigand, and Victor
Emmanuel a scoundrel, professed himself a
staunch patriot, and asked our author to recommend
him to the Sardinian general, that he
might obtain a commission as major. This
tendency to beg for places, honours, and promotion,
was lamented by Cavour on the solemn occasion
to which we have already referred. It disgusted
Garibaldi immediately after his arrival in the
southern capital; and it met Count Arrivabene
at every turn. The Liberator took up his quarters
at the palace of the Foresteria, and here he
was soon besieged by a mob of beggars of all
classes. Every one professed to have endured