were enraptured by the affability of the man
whom the population of Sicily soon came seriously to consider as a new
Messiah. It is a fact that the people of Southern Italy did believe
that Garibaldi had in him something superhuman, only the Bourbon
troops looked rather below than above for the source of it. The
picturesque incidents of the historic march were many; one other may
be mentioned. While the chief watered his horse at a spring a
Franciscan friar threw himself on his knees, and implored to be
allowed to follow him. Some of the volunteers thought the friar a
traitor in disguise, but larger in faith, Garibaldi said: 'Come with
us, you will be our Ugo Bassi.' Fra Pantaleo proved of no small use to
the expedition.

A glance at the map makes clear the military situation. Garibaldi's
objective was Palermo, and if anything shows his genius as a
Condottiere it is this immediate determination to make straight for
the capital where the largest number of the enemy's troops was massed,
instead of seeking an illusionary safety for his weak army in the open
country. As the crow flies the distance from Marsala to Palermo is not
more than sixty or seventy miles, but the routes being mountainous,
the actual ground to be covered is much longer. About midway lies
Calatafimi, where all the roads leading from the eastern coast to
Palermo converge, and above it towers the immensely strong position
called Pianto dei Romani, from a battle in which the Romans were
defeated. These heights command a vast prospect, and here General
Landi, with 3,000 men and four pieces of artillery, prepared to
intercept the Garibaldians with every probability of driving them back
into the sea.

The royal troops took the offensive towards ten o'clock on the 15th of
May. They met the Red-shirts half way down the mountain, but were
driven up it again, inch by inch, till, at about three o'clock, they
were back at Pianto dei Romani. A final vigorous assault dislodged
them from this position, and they retreated in disorder to Calatafimi.
Not wishing to tempt fortune further for that day, Garibaldi
bivouacqued on the field of battle. In a letter written to Bertani, on
the spur of the moment, he bore witness with a sort of fatherly pride
to the courage displayed by the Neapolitans: 'It was the old
misfortune,' he said, 'a fight between Italians; but it proved to me
what can be done with this family when united. The Neapolitan
soldiers, when their cartridges