Rensselaer Republican, Volume 20, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 April 1888 — A STRANGE ESCAPE. [ARTICLE]

A STRANGE ESCAPE.

New York Tribune. Many race* have left the mark of their preaoTioe upon Sicily—Phoenician,Greek and Borneo, Norman, Spaoieb, French—who all in turn have inhabited the fair inland, and alt In tarn have vanished, leaving it at least—as was manifest destiny—to the Italian, ani for Italians. Of the many straggles era this could be effected Palermo in particular bears well-defined trace* To say nothing of it* earliest days, or of those mediaeval ones, when the balls of San Giovanni dei Eremiti rang for Sicilian Vespers, there are later memories quite as thrillihg, of deeds wrought for liberty, witbia the span of our own Uvea Repeating the p»et, too, Palermitan bells had again their part to play, and in 1860, the Oampantle of the Galicia sent out a paal that United Sioily, for all, against her Bourbon Kings. No one who loves freedom and honors ooursga can pass unmoved this plain now shabby, eon vent-church. Priestly robes and discipline coaid not effaoe in its brethren the underlying spirit of patriotism. When Italian unity waa in question, they never feared to lend a hand, and prove themselves the “seditions, pestilent brotherhood” their enemies deemed them. This same patriotism—their blsck mark in Bonrbon.dsys —is now their chief distinction, and in every wsy they strive to commemorate it. At one end of the bnilding a marble tablet recalls the fact that here Francisco Kiso inaugurated the revolution of I 860; while in front, at nearly the building’s length from this tablet, is another, so extraordinary ip appearance as at once to catch the eye. Irregular’ in shape, of white marble, now badly weather-stained, and rimmed with iron, it bean these words: “Baca della Balversa,” literally, “The hole of deliverance,” of salvation. A longer inscription abeve states that through this opening (for opening it was, before the tablet covered it, although so small that one wonders how a human body coaid pass through) escaped two men, Gaspare Bivona and Filippo Patti; thus saving their lives, and at the same time achieving one of the boldest deeds of the revolution. “Now, as I was examining this tablet one day, a crowd gradually collected round me. Not that the story was new to them—no; bat with the sympathetic friendliness of Italians, they fait fresh interest in what so deeply interested the foreetiere. In unison with my silent translation they sofily read oat the words; and when at last I turned to go, a stout shop-keeper politely addressed me. “Sincethese things interest the Signore foreetiere, it may also pleesa him to know that these prodi (gallant ones) are still alive “What!” I exclaimed, fjt the heroes of such an achievement seemed almost as mythical as Graek gids. “What! they are actually alive? They are here, in Palermo?” “Even ao, Signore mio. Filippo Patti lives Borne what oat of the way, it is true; bnt Bivona is right here, in the hand, as one may say. He is a wonderful fellow, Signore; call and see him. He will tell you things to open the eyes wide —things that are true, Signore.” It seemed to me I could hardly do better than follow this advice; and the same evening I sought out my hero. He was at home—a home which, like himself bore witness to the changed state of Italy—beingthe old convent of Santa Anna, now secularized. Here, by the fiarirg luoerna. surrounded by his family, he sat —a man Bomewhat over fifty, spare, of medium height, limping slightly as he rose to meet me, but otherwise alert, with dark t yae, gray hair and beard that once had been black as the eyes, and with a most mobile, animated physiognomy. It was easy to see that Nature had fitted him both to act courageously and to be ready of resource in emergencies. “Yon know about Franceso Riso, Signore?” he began. “Wtll, it was he that set the ball of revolution rolling in Sicily. He was head and front of the movement—Capo della Rivolozlone. We had borne and borne with those Bourbon pigs; but he it was that first said the timahartenma tn acf fin planned what we shonld do, and one evening, the third of April, eighty-nine of ns got together.” ; - From thiH~point Bivoaa's narrative was so diffase that to give it in his own words becomes Impassible. Keeping his characteristic phrases, however, I now, reluctantly .condense his story, and give it in third oerson. Franceso Riso, then, fontaniere of Palermo, withe'ghty-eight other citizens, began the rebellion of 1860. On the evening of April 3 they concealed themselves in the Garni*, intending to Bally forth at dawn, and take possession of the public buildings—the Zecca and Finanze—in that quarter. At the same time, acting in concert, their friends without were to rise, and carry other important points in the town. The hell of the Gancia was to be the signal, the tricolor their badge.and their watchword “Viva ritalia e la Liberia! ” It was a well-laid plan, and should have succeeded. Bnt while the pati iota wsie in hiding, a traitor had gone to Maniscalco, the Director of (Police, and revealed the entire plot—time, signal, names—everything. Speedily troops filled the Piazza Marina, cannon were

plaoed fronting the Gancia, guards were stationed St the rear: and so far as the eighty-nine popolani were concerned the revolution was over before it had began. In the face of certain doom, however they fought like hfrue*; and, entrenched in the Gancia, maintained themselves almost two hours; Then, msny being killed, and Riso himself mortally wounded, the survivors sought such sifety as they conld. The majority, against Bivona’s advice, took refuge among the rafters, between the ceiling and roof of the church, where they weic soon found. Bome sprang aown among the soldiers and tried to cut their way through; many were Killed, hardly one escaped. Those who turrendc red were taken to |Porta Sui Giorgio. a tew days later, and fusilladed; among them, t(ie old Giovanni, father of Franoeeco Riso. The Utter, mortally wounded, waa removed to the hospital, and died there, from hie inj arise. Such at least is the aocepted story, and probably the true one. I have heard it said, however, that he would have lived to be shot had he not avoided that fate by poison. Meanwhile, Filippo Patti had joined his fate to Bivona’s, and their escape is In great part dne to the Utter’s astuteness and steady nerve. First of all, they fled to the Campanile, hut seeing that the convent was surrounded and safe descent would soon be impossible, they clambered down to the roof. There, looking through a skylight, they perceived two of the brethren on their knees, below, praying. Their rap upon the glass instantly directed toward them two frightened faces, but f for some time they conld get no answer to their aignr, the priests evidently fearing that they were spies. At last, however, they were told, by signs, of course, that if the window were open, it was possible to climb down, by means of the cornice and woodwork. With a blow of his fist Bivona broke the glass. The blood sported out from a severed vein in his wrist, but twisting a handkerchief about it like a vice, he tied the knot with one hand and his teeth, and then managed to swing himself down, followed by Patti. A few days after thU interview Bivona took me over the Gancia, tracing the fight and their escape from point to point I remember thinking, as I looked np at the skylight, that not many would have found the descent easy, even with both-wrists sound. By the time they were down, the monks had vanished, bnt were found in one of the siae chapels, praying to all the saints for safety. The fugitives made it clear they were not Bpies, although to be friends—in this crisis—was almost fatal. Bnt they were brothers in misery, and there was no longer any fear of betrayal. From the body of the church they fled to a small room at the opposite end from the high altar, full of chairs, which were stored here when not in use. A Une was hastily opened in the mass, and they crawled in, twisting themselves here, there, anyhow, so as to be oat of sight, and as far from the front as possible. Then the monks repUced the wooden files above and in front of them, shut the door and went back to their praying. It was well they had made haste, for in less Than half an hoar the soldiers entered. Little of the Gancia escaped search; even among these chairs they plunged and pried with their bayonets, bat lackily hit no one, and alter several trisU went away. / In this cramped and painful confinement, the fugitives remained three days At the close of the second the Gancia, now supposed to be empty, was locked up, although strictly'guarded without. Half dead from hanger, thirst and cramp, tint somewhat reassured by the silence, this small remnant of Francesco Rise’s troop emerged from its concealment, and entered the church. Tbe fhst thing the men saw was the holy water font, ss good luck would have it, half fall; and they drained it, to the list drop. “Never was water more truly blessed,” said Eivona; “Aqua benedetta, sicuro!” Now in their lona hiding among the chairs, he had been considering what better refuge there might be, and had remembered a vault below the church, next the street, which opened by a trap doorinto a room used as a vestry. Here the conventual dead were laid away, each on his shelf, bnt otherwise uncofflncd; and the probabilities were that rid one*would seek the living in such companionship. Bo the semi-dead pried np the ponderous iron-shod door, and inst rusted themselves to those who were dead. Jnst below the ceiling of the vault were several BmSl), heavily-barred windows; and as the sound Of life and the fresh Bpring air came pouring in, the captives were roused to new exertions. They must die of hanger if they stayed; they conld no more than die if discovered, and they decided to take their chances. They were feeble, still they managed to pile the gx>d brothers of the Gancia, one above another, until from this point of mortality they conld reach a window. The first who looked out promptly dodged; sentinels were pacing np and down before .the bnilding; and at the corner, where two streets crossed, waa stationed a large guard. But, watching their chance as the sentinels passed, they made signs tom woman in an opposite case. They were seen, they were understood, and all were eager to help.

Their first, meat preening need, was food, and this was conveyed to them most adroitly by a cab driver, brother, if I remember right, to Patti. As though by chance, he stopped his cab close to the window; again, as by chance, several people stopped in front of the cab, talking busily together; and thus screened, he throat in at the grating a roll of bread and a short, pointed iron bar. When they had a hole, he hurriedly told them, they most signal; then the people would get up a quarrel, to call off the guards, and favor the es cape. Patti was overcome at first with weakness and despondency, and wept bitterly. As to Bivona, the greater the peril, the wirier, more tensely strung he became. He cheered np his companion, and strengthened by the bread, they set to work, aiding the alow chisel .with their hands, nntil, on the fifth day of their imprisonment, the outermost stone lay loose in its socket. They rested a few seconds; then signalled that they were ready. Toe street had been quite peaceful, only noisy, until now; bat suddenly two women began to quarrel, their friends joined in, and a great hnbbnb arose. An officer passing by, stopped a moment cloie to the window, and Bivona heard him say to a friend: “If there was a conspiracy, yon may be Bare these accursed women would be in it, they are always ready fir a row.” On he p used, little dreaming that conspiracy was actually there; and Bivona, despite the peril, could not restrain a chuckle. In almost the same moment, at the croesing where the guard was stationed, several carts, loaded with straw, managed to run into each other. The wildest confusion ensned. The drivers enrsed, threatened, came to blows; the bystanders rushed in, and, sympathetically, began to fight; those “accnrsed women” joined in the fray .screaming loudest of all; in fact, aa Bivona said, they had a devil of a time. Guards and sentinels gathered in haste to separate the combatants and clear the streets; such a throng was not safe, it might lead to insurrection; and while the friends of order were thus laudably engaged at one end of the Gancia, at the other appeared,feet foremost, Fillippo Patti! Halt way oat of the hole, he stack, and urged Bivona to help him back. “No,” said the lattei, “return is death to both of us! out you must g d, even if in Dieces.” Withallnis might he pushed him, while those without pulled; and in this manner, although badly scarified, Patti reached at last the streetThen came Bivano, who being of slender build, and geing head first, emeiged safely. The women covered them, ad they appeared, with their clothes,hustled them beb i nd and through the crowd, across the street, and lrom one friendly house to another, until they could reach the open country. So adroitly was the affair managed that the soldiers had not even a suspicion. No sooner, however, were the fugitives safe, than—to quote a Palermitan writer---“there ceased, as if by magic,the confusion of the carts,” Tbe drivers recovered their temper t a unexpectedly as they bad lost it; tbe bystanders grew amicable and jolly; the hers9B trotted on; tbe sentries resumed their march. All as was before, with one exception. In the stone wall of the Gancia—like an eye looking out from its vaults—was a small irregular ingHow had it come there? Strange to say, no one knew anything abont it! The people gathered around, as astonished as the sentinels. “Most holy Virgin! what could they know about it? They had been watching theblraw-carts. A piece must have fallen out of the wall while they were not looking! Diavolo! Dio Santissimo! (thus invoking the two stronger authorities.) Nobody bad seen anything!” The most rigid cross questioning and search failed to more than this., There had been an escape, so much was certain; and since Bivona and PattLh&d not been found before, it was argued, rightly, that they were the fugitives. Bivona’s wife and children were treated with much harshnet s; but as the poor woman said, “We only knew that he waa gone; we conld only pray that he war safe.* 1 So matters went, nntil the 11th of May, not quite a month from that sad, struggle m the Gancia, there landed at Marsala, Garibaldi and bis Thousand. On the 16th they were at Caiatifini, the 17th at Aleamo, the 18th at Bartinico. By the 25th they had reached Miailmeri, the 28th, the Gibilroesa; and the 29th saw their triumphant entry into Palermo. Before November of this year, the campaign was ended; Italy was free! And Bivona? He had joined Garibaldi, of coarse; and fought with him bravely, as yon may suppose. Bnt after a while, some chronic ailment disabled bim for active service; and he was voted a small pension. Small aa it was, it soon failed to be paid; and for the last ten years he struggled hard with illness, poverty and the care of a large family. This, says Signor Salvo, is the way one’s country pays its debts! Yet something may briurged for poor, debt-oppressed Italy. Bhe “pays thus,” often, because she is unable to do otherwise. And, in spite of his barren pension, Bivona can still say, with all the fire of patriotism that first led him to rebel, “Viva Italia! Viva la Liberia.”