Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century

by Giuseppe Garibaldi

"Our cry must no longer be 'Rome or death!'" he said; "on the contrary, it is 'Rome and life!' for international right permits the Romans to rise, and will allow them to raise themselves from the mud into which the priests have thrown them."

It was at four o'clock on Tuesday morning, on the 5th of September, that General Garibaldi was arrested, by order of Ratazzi, in the little village of Asinalunga. He was sleeping in the house of Professor Aqualucci, and he was, as the map will show, far from the Roman frontier. He had been received with the utmost respect by the syndic and by the secretary of the municipality, and all the usual rejoicings took place, though it is stated that all the time the syndic had the order for the General's arrest in his pocket. General Garibaldi was conveyed to the fortress of Alexandria. In a day or two he was informed that he would be entirely restored to liberty if he would consent to go to Caprera; he had full liberty to return to the mainland whenever he thought proper. Depending upon this ministerial assurance, he returned to Caprera, having previously assured his friends in Genoa that he was in full and perfect liberty. An Italian fleet was sent to guard Caprera, and on his attempting to leave the island to go on board the Rubeatini postal steamers, his boat was fired at. He was taken on board a man-of-war, and conducted back to Caprera.

Then it was that, on the evening of the 14th of October, 1867, three individuals came down from the farm at Caprera towards Fontanazia; a fourth passed by way of the wooden porch which joins the small iron cottage to the large Souse, and took the high road to Stagnatia—the latter, by his dark physiognomy and the style of his apparel, appeared to be a Sardinian—the men belonging to the yacht which the munificence and sympathy of the generous English nation had placed at the disposal of the General. The first three men might have been recognized by that famous distinction, the red shirt, had not this garment, in a great measure, been concealed by the outer habiliments of each. They were Barberini and Fruchianti, and the third we need not describe. Barberini, though not strong by nature, had a wiry arm and the heart of a lion; Fruchianti was far more robust.

The sirocco, with its melancholy breath, beat down the poor plants of the island, daughter of the volcanoes and of the sea, and dense black clouds, chased by the impetuous winds, eddied on the summit of Veggialone, and then became mingled with dense vapors, which on higher mountains often form the centre of storms.

The three silent men descended, and on the way, whenever the unequal ground permitted a view of the port, they gazed with watchful eyes on the three ships which rocked gracefully in the Bay of Stagnabella. The yacht, with a small cannon at her bow, and a boat lashed to the poop, formed a strange contrast (completely deserted as she was) with the meu-of-war, their decks covered and encumbered with men.

It was six o'clock in the evening, and the sun had set, and the night promised, if not tempest, that disagreeable and oppressive weather which the sirocco generally brings from the burning plains of the desert. The three men having arrived on the Prato, Fruchianti said, "I leave you; I am going to the left to explore the point of Araccio."

The two continued to descend; they passed—opening and shutting them again—the four gates (?) of Fontanazia, and arrived under the dry wall which divides the cultivated part from the deserted shores.

Having reached that wall, the elder man threw off his cloak, changed his white hat for a cap, and after having reconnoitred a time beyond the dry wall, got over it with surprising agility. He now seemed to recall the strength of his past life, and was reinvigorated as if by twenty years. Were not his sons and his brothers fighting against the mercenaries of Papal tyranny? and could he remain quiet, murmuring complaints, or give himself up to the shameful life of the indifferent?

Having crossed the wall, and turned to Barberini, the General said, "Let us sit down and smoke half a cigar," and drawing from his left pocket a little case, a souvenir from the amiable Lady Shaftesbury, he lit one, which he then handed to his companion, a great amateur of such commodities.

Meanwhile the first shadows of darkness began to obscure the atmosphere, but in the east they saw the appearance of a changing color, the first herald of the coming moonlight.