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Updated: May 21, 2025
Sporadic infantry attacks were made in the San Pellegrino Valley, the upper But, at Monte Nero, Mrzli, the Tolmino zone, the northern slopes of Monte San Michele, the region east of Selz, and Monfalcone. Austrian aeroplanes shelled Castel Tesino, Capedaletto, Montebelluna, and the stations at Carnia and Gemona. Italian aeroplanes shelled Dellach and Kotsschach in the Gail Valley.
There were several old and famous thoroughfares, the Via Banchi Vecchi, the Via del Pellegrino, the Via di Monserrato, and an infinity of cross-streets which intersected and connected the others, all going towards the Tiber, and for the most part so narrow that vehicles scarcely had room to pass.
Giotgio Pellegrino perceived the movement. "Down, captain, down!" he cried. The captain obeyed. Immediately a bullet whistled over his head and brushed Murat's head. "Fire!" commanded Franceschetti. "Down with your arms!" cried Murat.
But he had learned, by experience in Sicily, that the state revenues of Carthage were expended in Carthage itself on matters much more needful than the payment of the armies that fought against the enemy. The warfare which he waged, accordingly, had to support itself, and he had to carry out on a great scale what he had already attempted on a smaller scale at Monte Pellegrino.
"Only don't you see Peregrine means pilgrim? It is the same as the Italian pellegrino, from the Latin, peregrinus, which means one that goes about the fields, what in Scotland you call a LANDLOUPER." "Well, but," returned Peregrine, hesitatingly, "I don't find myself much wiser. Peregrine means a pilgrim, you say, but what of that? All names mean something, I suppose! It don't matter much."
A neat and smiling little house comes next, with blue and white posts and an inscription stating that it was once the home of the architect Pellegrino Orefice; then a little house with pretty windows, now an "antichita"; then the Rio di S. Marcuola; and after a small and ugly little house with a courtyard that might be made very attractive, we come to the rich crumbling red wall of the garden of the Palazzo Vendramin Calergi, which is notable as architecture, being one of the works of Pietro Lombardi, in 1481, and also as having once housed the noble Loredan family who produced more than one Doge.
Before he had time to pick himself up, the populace had fallen on him: in one instant they had torn away his epaulettes, his banner, and his coat, and would have torn him to bits himself, had not Giorgio Pellegrino and Trenta Capelli taken him under their protection, and giving him an arm on each side, defended him in their turn against the people.
On the Ortigara at dawn Italian positions on Hill 2,101 were again attacked with extreme violence. From 2.30 o'clock onward the Austrians, continually reenforced, redoubled their efforts, but they all failed. In the San Pellegrino Valley an attack upon advanced Italian positions on the massif of Costabella was repulsed.
Below stretches the Eden valley, the Concha d'Oro, gold-green fig orchards alternating with smoke-blue olives, the mountains rising on either hand and sinking undulously away towards the bay where, like a magic city of ivory and nacre, Palermo lies guarded by the twin mountains, Monte Pellegrino and Capo Zafferano, arid rocks like dull amethysts, rose in sunlight, violet in shadow: lions couchant, guarding the sleeping town.
Then a strange thing happened: the criminals, who, believing Murat their accomplice, had welcomed him with vociferations and laughter, now bent before his royal majesty, which had not overawed Pellegrino and Trenta Capelli, and retired silently to the depths of their dungeon. Misfortune had invested Murat with a new power.
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