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

by Giuseppe Garibaldi

It is true that in the present day national spirit is more awakened, and the handful of brave youths has grown to heroic proportions and historical deeds, but in those unhappy times the populace stood gazing stupefied and in silence at the relics of the defenders of Rome while passing out on their way to the open country, regarding them as irretrievably lost. Not one of those men stood forward to increase our ranks. On the contrary, every morning discovered a quantity of arms upon the ground of bivouac, which deserters had abandoned. Those arms were placed upon the mules and wagons which accompanied the column, so that in time the column possessed more mules and wagons than men, and little by little the hope of arousing that nation of sluggards vanished from the souls of the faithful and courageous survivors.

At San Marino, seeing there was no longer any hope or heart to fight, the order of the day was given "to dismiss the men to their homes." That order was couched in the following terms: "Return to your homes, but remember that Italy must not remain a slave."

The larger number took the road to their dwellings, but some deserters from the Papal and Austrian troops, who, if taken prisoners would have been shot, remained to accompany their chief in his last attempt to free Venice.

And here begins a still sadder and more painful history.

Anita, the Recluse's inseparable companion, would not, even under these trying circumstances, leave him. In vain did her husband endeavor to persuade her to remain at San Marino. Though pregnant, faint, and sick, arguments were of no avail: the courageous woman would heed no advice, and answered all by smilingly asking "if he wished to abandon her."

Surrounded by the Austrian troops, tracked by the Papal police, that tired remnant of the Roman army outstripped them all during a night march, and arrived at the gates of Cesenatico at one o'clock in the morning, where an Austrian detachment kept guard.

"Fall on them and disarm them," exclaimed Garibaldi to the few individuals forming his retinue; and the Austrian soldiers, completely stupefied, allowed themselves to be disarmed. The authorities were then awakened, and requested to supply food and bragozzi, or small barges, that the volunteers might embark.

It can not be denied that fortune has favored the Recluse in many arduous enterprises, but at this time began for him a series of adversities and misfortunes.

A northern cloud had spread itself over the Adriatic on this night, and breaking into wind, had rendered the sea furious. The narrow mouth of the port of Cesenatico was one mass of foam. Great were the efforts made to leave the port in the bragozzi, thirteen in number, weighed down as they were with people, and at day-break they succeeded. But at this crisis numerous Austrians entered Cesenatico.

Sail was made, for the wind had become favorable, and on the following morning four of the bragozzi, in one of which were Garibaldi and Anita, with Cicernachio, his two sons, and Ugo-Bassi, landed in the Foci del Po. Anita, carried in the arms of the man of her heart, was borne to shore in a dying condition. The occupants of the other nine bragozzi had given themselves up to the Austrian squadron, which had discovered the little crafts by the light of a full moon, and had rained bullets and grapeshot upon them until they surrendered.