the cowardice of the volunteers was amusingly illustrated. The band was
estimated at about 200, and we had 100 volunteers and a detachment of 50
cavalry. On coming under the fire of the brigands, the cavalry captain,
who was in command, ordered the volunteers to charge, intending when they
had dislodged the enemy to ride him down on the open; but the volunteer
officer did not repeat the word, and stood stock-still, his men all
imitating his example.

"Charge! I say," shouted the cavalry captain; "why don't you charge? I
believe you're afraid!"

"_E vero_," said the captain of volunteers, shrugging his shoulders.

"Here, take my horse--you're only fit to be a groom; and you, men,
dismount and let these cowards hold your horses, while you follow
me,"--and jumping from his horse, the gallant fellow, followed by his
men, charged the building, from which a hot fire was playing upon them,
sword in hand. In less than a quarter of an hour the brigands were
scampering, some on foot and some on horseback, out of the
farm-buildings, followed by a few stray and harmless shots from such of
the volunteers as had their hands free. We lost three men killed and
five wounded in this little skirmish, and killed six of the brigands,
besides making a dozen prisoners. When I say we, I mean my companions;
for having no weapon, I had discreetly remained with the volunteers. The
scene of this gallant exploit was on the classic battle-field of Cannae.
This captain, who was not the friend I had joined the day after my
brigand adventure, was a most plucky and dashing cavalry officer, and was
well seconded by his men, who were all Piedmontese, and of very different
temperament from the Neapolitans. On one occasion a band of 250 brigands
waited for us on the top of a small hill, never dreaming that we should