The
Thousand, attired just as at home, worthy representatives of their
people, attacked--with heroic coolness, fighting their way from one
formidable position to another--the soldiers of tyranny, brilliant in
gaudily trimmed uniforms, gold lace, and epaulettes, and completely
routed them. How can I forget that knot of youths who, fearing to see me
wounded, surrounded me, pressing themselves closely together and
sheltering me with their bodies? If, while I write, I am deeply touched
at the recollection, I have good reason. Is it not my duty at least to
remind Italy of those brave sons of hers who fell there?--Montanari,
Schiaffino, Sertorio, Nullo, Vigo, Tukery, Taddei, and many more whose
names I grieve to say I cannot remember.
As I have already said, the southern slope of Monte Romano, which we had
to ascend, was formed of those ledges or narrow terraces used by the
cultivators of the soil in mountainous countries. We made all possible
haste to reach the bank of each terrace, driving the enemy before us,
and then halting under cover of the bank to take breath and prepare for
the attack.
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