also be settled, while the Italian, the national
question, the question of right and honour which the army prizes so much,
would still remain to be solved.

GONZAGA, July 12, 1866.

Travelling is generally said to be troublesome, but travelling with and
through brigades, divisions, and army corps, I can certify to be more so
than is usually agreeable. It is not that Italian officers or Italian
soldiers are in any way disposed to throw obstacles in your way; but
they, unhappily for you, have with them the inevitable cars with the
inevitable carmen, both of which are enough to make your blood freeze,
though the barometer stands very high. What with their indolence, what
with their number and the dust they made, I really thought they would
drive me mad before I should reach Casalmaggiore on my way from Torre
Malamberti. I started from the former place at three a.m., with beautiful
weather, which, true to tradition, accompanied me all through my journey.
Passing through San Giovanni in Croce, to which the headquarters of
General Pianell had been transferred, I turned to the right in the
direction of the Po, and began to have an idea of the wearisome sort of
journey which I would have to make up to Casalmaggiore. On both sides of
the way some regiments belonging to the rear division were still camped,
and as I passed it was most interesting to see how busy they were cooking
their 'rancio,' polishing their arms, and making the best of their time.
The officers stood leisurely about gazing and staring at me, supposing,
as I thought, that I was travelling with some part in the destiny of
their country. Here and there some soldiers who had just left the
hospitals of Brescia and Milan made their way to their corps and shook
hands with their comrades, from whom only illness or the fortune of war
had made them part. They seemed glad to see their old tent, their old
drum, their old colour-sergeant, and also the flag they had carried to
the battle and had not at any price allowed to be taken. I may state
here, en passant, that as many as six flags were taken from the enemy in
the first part of the day of Custozza, and were subsequently abandoned in
the retreat, while of the Italians only one was lost to a regiment for a
few minutes, when it was quickly retaken. This fact ought to be
sufficient by itself to establish the bravery with which the soldiers
fought on the 24th, and the bravery with which they will fight if, as
they ardently