What with their indolence, what
with their number and the dust they made, I really thought they would
drive me mad before I should reach Casalmaggiore on my way from Torre
Malamberti. I started from the former place at three a.m., with
beautiful weather, which, true to tradition, accompanied me all through
my journey. Passing through San Giovanni in Croce, to which the
headquarters of General Pianell had been transferred, I turned to the
right in the direction of the Po, and began to have an idea of the
wearisome sort of journey which I would have to make up to Casalmaggiore.
On both sides of the way some regiments belonging to the rear division
were still camped, and as I passed it was most interesting to see how
busy they were cooking their 'rancio,' polishing their arms, and making
the best of their time. The officers stood leisurely about gazing and
staring at me, supposing, as I thought, that I was travelling with some
part in the destiny of their country. Here and there some soldiers who
had just left the hospitals of Brescia and Milan made their way to their
corps and shook hands with their comrades, from whom only illness or the
fortune of war had made them part.
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