At other spots lay wretched beings who had not only been struck by bullets and splinters of shells, but whose limbs had also been crushed or cut off by the wheels of the guns that had been driven over them. The conical musket-balls split the bone in every direction, so that the wound caused by them was extremely dangerous, but the fragments of shell produced equally painful fractures and greater internal injuries. Splinters of every description, pieces of bone, bits of clothing, accoutrements or boots, earth and lumps of lead, rendered the wounds more dangerous through the inflammation they caused, and thus heightened the agony of the wounded men.

The man who walked over this extensive theater of the previous day's action found at every step, and amid an incomparable confusion, inexpressible despair and wretchedness in all its forms.

The want of water constantly became more felt; the ditches were dried up, the troops had at the best only an unhealthy marshy fluid to quench their thirst, and sentries were stationed at every spot where there was a well with loaded mus. kets, because the water was to be reserved for the wounded. At Cavriana twenty thousand artillery and cavalry horses were watered for two days at a swamp that contained pestiferous water. Those riderless horses, which ran about the whole night wounded, now dragged themselves up to the groups of other horses, as if they wished to request assistance of them, and they were at times killed with a bullet.

On the faces of many of the dead soldiers an expression of peace was perceptible; it was with those who fell dead at the first shot; but a great many bore traces of the death-struggle, with their stiff outstretched limbs, bodies covered with lead-colored spots, their hands dug into the ground, their mustaches standing up like a brush, and a dark smile playing round their lips and clenched teeth.

Three days and three nights were employed in burying the dead who lay on the field of battle;* but on this extensive plain many were hidden in the ditches and furrows, or concealed by bushes and other irregularities of the ground, and could not be found till afterwards, and all these corpses, as well as the dead horses, had impregnated the atmosphere with poisonous exhalations. In the French army a certain number of men per company was told off to seek and bury the dead, and, as a rule, the men of the same corps did so for their comrades in arms: they recorded the number found on the effects of each slain man, and then, with the help of hired Lombardese peasants, laid the body, dressed as it was, in a common pit. Unhappily, it may be assumed that in the haste with which this operation was accomplished, and through the carelessness or callous neglect of these peasants, a living man was now and then interred with the dead. The orders, money, watches, letters, and documents found on the person of the officers were removed from the dead, and eventually sent to their families: but, with such a number of corpses as was buried here, it was not always possible to perform this duty faithfully.

A son, the darling of his parents, whom a tender mother had brought up and fostered through many years, and who had been terrified at his slightest attack of illness; a smart officer, beloved by his family, who had left wife and children at home; a young soldier, who had bidden adieu to his bride at home, and all these men who had a mother, sisters, or aged

* Three weeks after the 24th of June, 1859,

father at home-here they now lay in the mud, in the dust, and bathed in their blood, their masculine handsome faces not to be recognized, for the enemy's bullets or saber had not spared them; they suffered and died, and their bodies, so long the object of affectionate care, now blackened, swollen, and mutilated, were thrown just as they were into a hurriedly dug grave, only covered with a few shovelsful of lime and earth, and the birds of prey will not spare their hands and feet when they peer out through the washing away of the mould. True, the workmen will come again to pile up the earth or erect a wooden cross, but that will be all!

The French hospital staff continued to have the wounded collected, and they were removed to the field lazarettos on mules, in litters, or on cacolets; thence they were transferred to the villages or hamlets nearest to the spot where they had fallen, or had been found. In these villages temporary field hospitals had been made in the churches and convents, in the houses, on the public squares, in court-yards, in the streets and promenades, in short, at every convenient spot. In this way a great number of wounded were provided for at Carpenedolo, Castel Geffredo, Medoli, Guidizzolo, Volta, and all the surrounding villages, but the great majority was at Castiglione, whither the less severely wounded had already crawled on foot.

Thither proceeded a long train of vehicles belonging to the hospital staff, loaded with soldiers, non-commissioned officers, and officers of every grade, and in a strange medley of cavalry, infantry, and artillery; they were all blood-stained, exhausted, ragged, and dusty; then came mules at a smart trot, whose restless movements drew shrieks of pain from the unfortunate sufferers at every step. One had a leg smashed, which seemed almost separated from the body, so that the slightest jolting of the wagon caused him fresh agony; another had his arm broken, and supported it with the other unbroken one; the stick of a Congreve rocket had passed through a corporal's arm, he drew it out himself, and using it as a crutch, attempted to crawl to Castiglione. Many of these wounded died on the road, and their corpses were laid by the side of the road, where they were ultimately buried. From Castiglione the wounded were to be removed to the hospitals of Brescia,

Cremona, Bergamo, and Milan, where they would find more regular attention, and amputations would be undertaken. As, however, the Austrians in their retreat had seized all the vehicles belonging to the country people, and the French means of transport were not equal to the number of wounded, they were obliged to wait two or three days before they could be carried to Castiglione, which place was already crowded. This whole town was metamorphosed into one spacious improvised hospital, both for French and Austrians; during the Friday the head-quarters lazaretto was prepared here, the lint cases were opened, and apparatus and surgical instruments were got in readiness; the inhabitants readily gave up all the blankets, sheets, paillasses, and mattresses they could spare.

During the 25th, 26th, and 27th, the death-struggles and sufferings were awful. The wounds, rendered worse by the heat, dust, and want of water and attention, constantly grew more painful; mephitic exhalations poisoned the atmosphere, in spite of the laudable exertions of the hospital staff to keep the localities converted into lazarettos in good condition; the growing want of assistants, nurses, and servants grew every moment more evident, for the baggage-trains arriving at Castiglione brought fresh loads of wounded every quarter of an hour. However great was the activity displayed by a surgeon-major, and two or three other persons, who organized the regular transports to Brescia with carts drawn by oxen; however praiseworthy the zeal of the inhabitants of Brescia, who came with vehicles to fetch away the sick and wounded, and to whom the officers were chiefly intrusted, fewer trains left than arrived, and overcrowding was continually augmented.

On the stone floors of the hospitals and convents of Castiglione, people of all nations, French and Arabs, Germans and Sclavons, were laid down side by side; many of the persons temporarily placed in the corner of a chapel had not the strength left to move, or could not stir in the confined space. Curses, imprecations, and yells echoed in the sacred buildings. "Ah, sir, how I am suffering!" one of these wretches said to the author. "We are given up, we are left to die in misery, and yet we fought so bravely." In spite of the fatigue they had endured, in spite

of sleepless nights, they could not now enjoy rest; in their desperation they appealed for the help of a surgeon, or struck out wildly around, until tetanus and death put an end to their sufferings. Although every house had become a -lodging for the wounded, and every family had quite enough to do in nursing the officers they had taken in, M. Dunant succeeded, on the following Tuesday morning, in collecting a certain number of women, who did their utmost in helping to nurse the patients; amputations and other operations were no longer the sole object; it was necessary to give food and drink to men who would otherwise die of hunger and thirst, bind up their wounds, or wash their bleeding bodies, which were coated with mud and vermin, and all this must be done amid poisonous exhalations, the cries and moans of the sufferers, and in a stifling heat. The nucleus of such a body of volunteers was soon formed, and the Lombardese women hurried to those who yelled the loudest, although they were not always the worst. M. Dunant, for his part, tried as far as was possible to organize the assistance in that quarter of the town where it was most needed, and took special charge of one of the churches of Castiglione, situated on an eminence on the left hand as you come from Brescia, and called the Chiesa Maggiore. Upwards of five hundred soldiers were collected here, and at the least one hundred more lay in front of the church, on straw and under clothes, which had been put up to keep off the sunbeams.

The nurserywomen went about from one to the other with their jugs and pails, filled with clean water to quench thirst or moisten wounds. Some of these improvised hospital attendants were pretty young girls; their gentleness and kindness, their sweet sympathizing tear-laden eyes, as well as their attentive care, effected much in, at any rate, raising the moral courage of the patients. The town-boys came and went, carrying to the church pails, jugs, and watering-pots full of water from the nearest well. This was followed by a distribution of broth and soup, large quantities of which the hospital staff had to supply. Enormous bales of lint were set down here and there, so that every man might take what he wanted, but there was a sad want of bandages, linen, and shirts: the resources of the small town, through which the Austrian army

had marched, were so reduced that it was impossible to procure the most trifling articles. Still M. Dunant contrived to obtain some few clean sheets by the help of the worthy women, who brought in all their linen, and on the Monday morning he sent off his coachman to Brescia to procure a fresh stock. He returned a few hours later with the entire carriage loaded with sheets, sponges, linen, ribbons, pins, cigars, and tobacco, camomiles, mallows, elder-flowers, oranges, sugar, and lemons, which rendered it possible to give the wounded a much-desired and refreshing glass of lemonade, to wash their wounds with an extract of mallows, to put on warm poultices, and change the bandages more frequently.

During this time the volunteer corps had been reënforced by several recruits. An old naval officer and two English tourists came into the church through curiosity, and were retained there almost per force; two other Englishmen expressed a wish to assist, and distributed cigars principally among the Austrians. In addition to these, an Italian abbé, three or four curious travelers, a journalist of Paris, who eventually undertook the management of a neighboring church, and, lastly, several officers of the division left in Castiglione, lent a hand in waiting on the patients. One of these officers, however, was soon taken ill through the awful effect of the scenes, and the other volunteers gradually retreated, because they could not endure the sight of these sufferings, which they were so little able to alleviate; the abbé also followed their example, but returned, in order, with a very polite attention, to hold aromatic herbs and smelling-salts under the nose of the workers. A young French tourist, affected by the sight of these human remains, suddenly burst into tears; a merchant from Neufchâtel during two days bandaged the wounded, and wrote the last letters for the dying to their relatives: it was found necessary for his own sake to moderate his zeal, as well as the sympathizing excitement of a Belgian, which attained such a pitch that fears were entertained lest he should be attacked by fever, as was the case with a sub-lieutenant who came from Milan to join his corps, and was taken ill in the church.

Several soldiers belonging to the division left in the town also expressed their readiness to attend on their comrades, but