difficult to believe that there could have been, in
any mind, the slightest notion that the family
were in any personal danger in the Pitti.

Be this as it may, when the lady and her son
arrived within the fortress, the young colonel of
artillery, addressing the superior officer present,
said: "There must be here a sealed paper of
orders. Let it be opened and read." The paper
was forthcoming, and its contents were read
aloud by the major, in presence of the Duchess,
her son, and a considerable number—some
thirty or forty—of the artillery officers. It
consisted of orders for the bombardment of
the city in case of any revolutionary movement.
These were detailed with so much precision
and circumstantiality, that the reading is said
to have occupied twenty minutes. It was
stated by some of those who heard the paper
read, that it contained orders for the perambulation
of the city by triple files of troops, of
whom one should clear the streets with the
bayonet, while the other two should fire on
either side into the windows of the houses. It
is eagerly denied by the friends of the late
dynasty that these latter orders were given.
But it is admitted that they were the same
as those which were acted on at Leghorn;
when troops did act in the way specified. I am,
however, particular in stating what is urged on
these points by the friends of the deposed
family.

When these terrible orders had been read,
the officers present remained silent, with their
eyes fixed on the ground. "Gentlemen," said
their youthful colonel, standing by his mother's
side, "you have heard your orders. They need
no comment!"

Then, after a pause, one of the younger of
the officers present spoke (with much apology
for venturing to do so), to the effect that he
feared his highness was not aware of the
disposition of the troops, and of the certain fact
that no officer could be found to command, and
no gunner to execute, the directions which had
been read to them.

Upon this the Grand-Duchess cried, "Are
you all then traitors? Our lives, I suppose, are
not safe in your hands?"

"Nay, madame," replied the senior officer,
"we are ready to defend your life at need, at
the risk of our own. It is our duty to do so.
But to fire on fellow-countrymen is not our
duty."

This incident of the speech of the Grand-
Duchess is also denied by her friends, but the
scene is detailed as I have written it on the
authority of officers then present.

      VIII.    THE PORTA SAN GALLO.

IT was about six o'clock in the evening of
this eventful day that the last act and completion
of the peaceful revolution was accomplished.
At that hour a string of carriages—containing the
Grand-Duke and the members of his family, his
attendants, and the foreign ministers who had
promised to give him the safeguard of their
presence as far as the friendly Papal frontier—
issued forth from the Porta San Gallo.

The streets had, during the whole day,
remained full of people. The Southern loves any
excuse for remaining in the open air; and
numerous groups in every piazza and street
were discussing the course events had taken:
all were alike animated by an exuberance of joy,
and excited by the mutual congratulations
expressed on all sides at the happy accomplishment
of a work which few nations have ever
brought to a termination without bloodshed.

In this temper a considerable mass of
people had assembled outside the Porta San
Gallo; not so much to see the Grand-Duke go,
as to satisfy themselves that he was
unmistakably gone. It was known, therefore, to
those popular leaders who had thus far so
admirably prevented the revolution from being
stained by an appearance of excess, that the
Grand-Ducal carriages would have to pass through
a dense crowd on leaving the city. The notable
scene at the Belvidere had become known
to the people by this time. The crowd around
the carriages would be well aware that the
departing prince, now impotent to harm them,
had a few hours since been, if not by his own
act, by that of his son, endeavouring to destroy
the lives of their wives and children, and lay their
homes in ruin. The provocation was great; and
a few, therefore, of the " demagogues" hastened
to the Porta San Gallo to prevent any demonstration
of feeling which might have been a blot
on so fair and truly glorious a day. But the
precaution was unnecessary. The Florentine
civilisation remained true to itself. The crowd
suffered the carriages to pass in solemn silence.
Not a word of insult, not a cheer of exultation,
nor a cry of any sort was heard.

And thus the Grand-Duke and his subjects
parted, never, let us hope, to meet again.

That night was a festive time in Florence.
Immense quantities of tricolor ribbon, a
profusion of tricolor flags, much singing of national
hymns, but no drunkenness, were seen and heard
in all parts of the city, for a few hours. But,
at a very reasonable time, the free out weary
city had gone home to bed.

          X.    THE MORROW.

ON the morning of the 28th fair Florence
woke to find itself in a condition of the most
complete anarchy, inasmuch as government, by
constituted authority, there was none. Yet
no one of the evil effects which are supposed
to be inseparable from such a condition were
observed. The bakers baked their bread as
usual, and no man attempted to partake thereof
except on the usual terms. The Florentines,
the "Codini" included, ate their breakfasts,
went to their accustomed occupations, and
looked out from time to time at the placard
posting-places on the walls to see whether they
had yet got a government. And many hours
did not elapse before they were informed by the
walls that the corporation of Florence had
undertaken to name a Provisional Government,