The Canton Advocate

GARIBALDI ON HIS ISLAND.

The Daily Life of the Celebrated Italian Patriot.

From the London World.

Caprera is a small, narrow island-a great rock, in fact, with a few patches of soil here and there-of about twenty-two miles in circuit and three to four in width, separated from the northernmost point of Sardinia by a strip of sea some two and a half miles across. The only habitations are a few shepherds' huts and Garibaldi's house situated on the western side, about three quarters of a mile on the higher ground. It is a one-storied building, i. e., a ground floor only, divided into seven plain, unadorned rooms; a kitchen, with appliances any small farmer's wife in England would consider very insufficient. A dining-room with a plain deal table, large enough, however, to accommodate a party of twenty-five; a little storeroom; three bedrooms for his children and any friends who may land upon the island; and his own bed-chamber and study combined-a good sized room with two windows, a carpetless boarded floor like the deck of a ship and whitewashed walls. Its chief articles of furniture are a plain roomy iron bedstead, four common chairs, a simple writing table, an old-fashioned chest of drawers, and a shower bath.

On the bed is a splendid counterpane of white cashmere, most exquisitely embroidered for him in silk by the ladies of Milan; and standing in one corner, as carelessly placed as if they were a bundle of sticks, are several swords of honor with Damascus blades and hilts of gold set with gems, presented to him by his fellow-countrymen of Nice, Rome, and other cities; but what he prizes far more is a box of tools for cultivating and engrafting vines sent him by some friend in England. Flung over the back of one of the chairs is a handsome poncho of a rich white material lined with red, the gift of a distinguished Milanese lady. Hung against the wall are a telescope and a binocular, both presents from England. These were used by him in the campaign of 1860, and on his writing table, together with a volume of Plutarch and some works on mathematics, lies a book of harbor plans given to him years ago at a moment of need by the captain of an English ship in the port of Canton. On the floor by his bedside there is a tiger skin to step upon; above the head of the bed hangs his mother's portrait, and at the side is a stand on which lie a revolver and a dagger.

This dagger is another record of his wife. She always wore it hanging from her waist; and after her death, during the retreat from Rome in 1849, Garibaldi continued to carry it in remembrance of her until he lost it from his side during the fight at Caserta, October 1, 1860. It was found, however, by a Calabrese who restored it to Garibaldi, and since then its place has been by his bedside.

Unless the general rings his bell, no one is permitted to enter his room, with the exception only of his son Menotti. On the walls of the dining room hang some water colors representing episodes in the Montevidean war of independence, a photograph of an incident in the siege of Venice in 1849, and in one corner a Brazilian lance carried by one of his favorite troopers in South America. Outside of the door of his room is a Mexican saddle, with stirrups of silver made in the form of reversed crowns. This was a present from a Mexican friend, and is a record of the battle of Melazzo. It was when he used it there that part of one of the stirrups was shot away by a cannon ball.

The first on foot in the morning is the general himself. He rises at 4 o'clock, and, without taking anything to eat goes off to look after some pets who inhabit the border and surface of a small pond not far from the house-a flock of geese. On the alert for his coming, they waddle, cackle and clap their wings to meet him. He feeds them, and then, having gone back to the house for a few moments to get his cup of black coffee he sets to work in his fields until about an hour before midday, when he returns home, looks over and signs letters Bassi, his secretary, has written according to his instructions, and attends to other matters until dinner time at noon. Some twelve or thirteen years ago he used to employ this hour before dinner in teaching a little shepherd lad named Luca Spano. The boy was little more than a cretin; but by dint of steady, quiet perseverance and kindness Garibaldi succeeded in making something of him.

He had learned to read well, write a good hand, and was progressing well when, on the 24th of July, 1866, he fell by the general's side, fighting like a hero, at Monte Suello, in the Tyrol.

After clothes were paid for, Garibaldi's means would not, until very recently, go far toward providing food for even so simple a table as his; fish must be caught and game snared or shot. When fish are wanted the whole of the little population of Caprera rise at midnight. The signal is given by a trumpet call blown by the general's orderly; the boats are launched, and the party, going well out to sea, cast the nets for a haul and return soon after daybreak with sufficient to feed the inhabitants of the island for a couple of days, and leave a quantity to be smoked or dried for future provision.

Once a week, every Sunday morning, one of the Rubattino line of steamers touches at the Maddalena, and lands the Caprera mail bag. It generally contains some six hundred letters and as many newspapers from all parts of the world. Of these at least sixty will be from England, Australia, and other parts of the British dominions, containing advice of presents sent to him, or expressions of admiration for what he has done for liberty and his country; while he complains that too many of those from Italy are filled with petulant complaints of the government.

It not infrequently happened that the mail brought registered letters from anonymous correspondents containing five and ten pound Bank of England notes: but now Garibaldi has no need of this. And it must not be forgotten that, during the time when it was known that he would take no money recognition from Italy for the services he had rendered her, while at the same time his needs were great and often pressing, his friends and admirers in the United States were behind no others in sending him material aid.

The next Sunday, when the steamer calls again, the answers are sent off, always with the postage unpaid; and together with them, from time to time, trenchant, pithy letters, written by the general to one or other of his intimate friends, in condemnation or approval of some political event his correspondents or the newspapers have made him acquainted with; or expressing sympathy or admiration with or of some individual or cause.

The day the Duke of Sutherland paid his first visit to Caprera, Garibaldi was in bed indisposed. He had declined that morning to receive a Sardinian peasant, who had crossed over to the island to see him, and had told his faithful friend Fazzari-who fought under him in the Tyrol, and had spent several years in the island, helping to tend the obstinate wound he got at Aspromonte-that he would see no one. Somewhat later the duke's yacht came in sight, and his grace on landing, was met by two young men, Menotti Garibaldi and Fazzari, carrying barrels of water on their shoulders Menotti, white with flour, Fazzari, black with smoke; they had been grinding corn for the family use, the one attending to the grist, while the other drove the donkey engine; and great was their embarrassment on the duke announcing himself, not on account of their dusty condition, but because of the order the general had given. What was to be done? Fazzari went to announce the arrival. "But I cannot receive him to-day," said Garibaldi. "How can I do so, when I refused to see Santo Janca?"

At last it was arranged that Santo should have his audience first, and at once, and then the duke was introduced.