the Italians on that memorable day surpasses any possible idea that can
be formed, as it did also surpass all expectations of the country. Let
me relate you a few out of many heroic facts which only come to light
when an occasion is had of speaking with those who have been eyewitnesses
of them, as they are no object of magnified regimental--orders or, as
yet, of well-deserved honours. Italian soldiers seem to think that the
army only did its duty, and that, wherever Italians may fight, they will
always show equal valour and firmness. Captain Biraghi, of Milan,
belonging to the general staff, having in the midst of the battle
received an order from General Lamarmora for General Durando, was
proceeding with all possible speed towards the first army corps, which
was slowly retreating before the superior forces of the enemy and before
the greatly superior number of his guns, when, while under a perfect
shower of grape and canister, he was all of a sudden confronted by, an
Austrian officer of cavalry who had been lying in wait for the Italian
orderly. The Austrian fires his revolver at Biraghi; and wounds him in
the arm. Nothing daunted, Biraghi assails him and makes him turn tail;
then, following in pursuit, unsaddles him, but has his own horse shot
down under him. Biraghi disentangles himself, kills his antagonist, and
jumps upon the latter's horse. This, however, is thrown down also in a
moment by a cannon ball, so that the gallant captain has to go back on
foot, bleeding, and almost unable to walk. Talking of heroism, of
inimitable endurance, and strength of soul, what do you think of a man
who has his arm entirely carried away by a grenade, and yet keeps on his
horse, firm as a rock, and still directs his battery until hemorrhage--
and hemorrhage alone--strikes him down at last, dead! Such was the case
with a Neapolitan--Major Abate, of the artillery--and his name is worth
the glory of a whole army, of a whole war; and may only find a fit
companion in that of an officer of the eighteenth battalion of
bersaglieri, who, dashing at an Austrian flag-bearer, wrenches the