PARIS, _Thursday, April 28, 1859_.
I received your letter last night. You will stop at ----, I imagine. It
would be folly on your part to attempt to go farther. I shall not repeat
what you already know of the sympathy I feel for your anxieties. When
one is the sister of a soldier, one must become accustomed to the sound
of cannon. Since last night, moreover, the signs of peace are brighter
than they were several days ago. It appears, even, that there is a
probability of the acceptance by Austria of the proffered arbitration by
England, and also by France. Nevertheless, many troops are departing,
and two regiments have already landed at Genoa, beneath a deluge of
flowers. I believe there will be war, but it will not continue long, and
I hope that after the first conflict all Europe will interpose between
the belligerent parties.
Austria, moreover, for lack of means, would be unable to maintain a long
struggle, and it is thought by many persons that the principal object of
her rash act is to offer a pretext for pleading bankruptcy. It seems to
me that the feeling here is better than it was. The people are bellicose
and over-confident, the soldiers in high spirits and full of assurance.
The Zouaves departed, after being away from their barracks and sleeping
under the stars for a week, saying that in time of war there was no such
thing as home comforts. On the day of their departure not a man was
missing.
There is in our army a gaiety and ardour absolutely lacking among the
Austrians. Although scarcely optimistic, I have firm confidence in our
success. Our former reputation is so well and widely established, that
those who fight against us do so with faint hearts. Do not use your
imagination in creating tragic possibilities; remember that very few
bullets strike, and that the war in which we are to engage will prove
tremendously interesting to your brother. Do not intimate to your
sister-in-law that the fascinating Italian ladies will throw themselves
at the heads of our soldiers. You may rest assured that they will be
petted, and will be fed on _macaroni stupendi_, while the Austrian
soldiers are likely to find verdigris sometimes in their soup. If I were
your brother’s age, a campaign in Italy would give me the agreeable
opportunity of observing one of the most splendid spectacles, the
awakening of an oppressed people.
Good-bye, dear friend. Let me hear from you promptly, and keep me
informed of your plans.