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				<title type='main'>Volume 15</title>
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				<publisher>tranScriptorium</publisher>
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				<bibl><publisher>TRP document creator: chris.burns@uvm.edu</publisher></bibl>
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			<pb n='1'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>From May 6<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>to</l>
					<l>September 22<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi> 1864</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='2'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Saturday May 7<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>, 1864.</l>
					<l>An [h]our before we expected to be off</l>
					<l>for Saluzzo a gentleman from Massachusetts, employed</l>
					<l>by the state as agent to get information to help on</l>
					<l>the Hoosack tunnel, came in and furnished Mr</l>
					<l>Marsh with work enough for two days. Luckily,</l>
					<l>however he has the gift of despatch when hard</l>
					<l>pressed, and before the carriage was at the door,</l>
					<l>for us he had written some eight or ten letters</l>
					<l>for the gentleman, given him cards of introduction,</l>
					<l>and, in short, done everything possible to clear</l>
					<l>the way for him and enable him to transact his</l>
					<l>business at once. We reached Saluzzo about half</l>
					<l>past three, and went off <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>at</hi> immediately to see</l>
					<l>the Casa Pensa, the famous triptyc in the chapel</l>
					<l>of this house was taken from the old cathedral at</l>
					<l>Mondovì, and is, indeed, almost a miracle. The</l>
					<l>pictures within the first doors are very pleasing</l>
					<l>and have a decided German look, but the</l>
					<l>marvel appears when these, too, are opened. Such</l>
					<l>a wonderful specimen of fine wood-carving taken</l>
					<l>all in all, I have never seen. There are at least</l>
					<l>seventy figures in the different compartments, many</l>
					<l>of them most graceful in attitude and drapery,</l>
					<l>and the various groups stand in niches, and</l>
					<l>under canopies carved in the most beautiful</l>
					<l>Gothic patterns. The whole is very richly gilded</l>
					<l>and in a state of perfect preservation. That</l>
					<l>both the painting and carving are from the hand</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='3'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>of German artists I should think there could be</l>
					<l>no shadow of a doubt. We turned away from it</l>
					<l>feeling that we were already more than repaid for</l>
					<l>the little journey we had taken. The daylight lasted</l>
					<l>long enough to allow us to see the church which</l>
					<l>contains the fine tomb of the second Lodovico,</l>
					<l>Marquis of Saluzzo, husband of Margaret de Foix.</l>
					<l>The marble statue of the Marquis lying on his</l>
					<l>sarcofagus, is a grand thing, and the rich stone</l>
					<l>carving about the chapel delighted us exceedingly.</l>
					<l>It was so chilly however in the church that on</l>
					<l>brother Charles&apos; account we were obliged to hurry</l>
					<l>off sooner than we could have wished.</l>
					<l>Sunday May 8<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>After breakfast this morning we drove out</l>
					<l>to the great castle of Verzuolo, the finest thing of</l>
					<l>the kind I have seen in Italy, though no doubt</l>
					<l>there are others quite equal to it. It was probably</l>
					<l>built in the fifteenth century, and is still kept</l>
					<l>in tolerable repair. The position is singularly beautiful.</l>
					<l>A fine view of it is obtained from the road</l>
					<l>as you approach and the steep</l>
					<l>winding</l>
					<l>avenue that</l>
					<l>leads to it is very picturesque. From one side</l>
					<l>of the castle there is the finest possible view of the</l>
					<l>plain stretching far and wide below. On the</l>
					<l>other side you seem to be in the very heart of</l>
					<l>the mountains. The garden is beautiful, and</l>
					<l>the large luxuriant laurels prove that the</l>
					<l>climate here is not severe. The finest</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='4'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>single object here is a magnificent old tower</l>
					<l>overgrown with the ivy of three-hundred years.</l>
					<l>It would be worth a mountain of gold if it</l>
					<l>could be set down on the banks of the Hudson.</l>
					<l>We crossed the old iron draw-bridge and entered</l>
					<l>the castle. The furniture is for the most part</l>
					<l>very old, but not remarkably rich. A few old</l>
					<l>bureaux of inlaid wood and some magnificent</l>
					<l>state bedsteads richly gilded excited my cupidity.</l>
					<l>There were many old family portraits, but generally</l>
					<l>the pictures were execrable. Two large rooms,</l>
					<l>one in each of the great octagonal towers,</l>
					<l>called forth our livliest admiration, rather</l>
					<l>from their capabilities than from what they</l>
					<l>actually were. The view from each of them was</l>
					<l>most beautiful. and such libraries as they would</l>
					<l>make! We were told the family spend only</l>
					<l>one month a year at this castle. Mr Marsh</l>
					<l>and sat down in the open summer-house</l>
					<l>listening to the birds and the fountains, while</l>
					<l>brother Charles and Carrie explored the kitchen</l>
					<l>and cellars. They reported the kitchen fireplaces</l>
					<l>to exceed in size even the enormous ones we</l>
					<l>had seen in the great dining-hall above. Thirty</l>
					<l>huge wine-casks on either side of the cellar told</l>
					<l>of high-living here in the olden time, but they</l>
					<l>rang very hollow now, and the great iron rings</l>
					<l>in the kitchen arch which once no doubt sup-</l>
					<l>-ported mighty flitches of bacon and the like</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='5'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>served now only for show. We saw but a single</l>
					<l>servant about the premises, though there are more</l>
					<l>in all probability. We left the grand old place</l>
					<l>with half a wish for such a home.</l>
					<l>After dinner Mr Marsh and Charles took another</l>
					<l>stroll, and among other things they found the house</l>
					<l>in which Silvio Pellico was born with a marble</l>
					<l>slab inserted on its front stating the fact. By the</l>
					<l>way the statue of Pellico which stands on the square</l>
					<l>is very fine, only it looks a little too priest-like.</l>
					<l>Monday May 9<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>We left for Paesana rather early</l>
					<l>this morning, hoping the weather would allow</l>
					<l>us to take mules there and go on to Crissolo for</l>
					<l>the night. Delusive hope! The rain came on before</l>
					<l>we had made half the distance to Paesana, and</l>
					<l>we arrived at the wretched <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>Corona</hi></l>
					<l>Gallo</l>
					<l>wet and</l>
					<l>disconcerted. The dining-room was forlorn, and the</l>
					<l>bed-chambers forlorner. A bright fire in the former</l>
					<l>and a little sweeping and a general change of</l>
					<l>linen in the latter improved our prospects some-</l>
					<l>-what, and a very fair dinner, enlivened by</l>
					<l>a strong cup of tea nearly restored our usual</l>
					<l>equanimity. We went to bed hoping to start</l>
					<l>early for Crissolo.</l>
					<l>Tuesday 10<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> May.</l>
					<l>The roll was called very early</l>
					<l>this morning with not very brilliant results.</l>
					<l>I had not slept half an hour, partly perhaps</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='6'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>from a late cup of tea, but more from a bad</l>
					<l>bed shared with very many troublesome companions.</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh did little better, Carrie much the same,</l>
					<l>and brother Charles made the most dismal report</l>
					<l>of all. The weather looked a little doubtful, but</l>
					<l>we were all disposed to try the experiment up</l>
					<l>the valley, till it came to brother Charles&apos; turn</l>
					<l>to speak. For himself he decided against it, fearing</l>
					<l>the effects of the wetting he might very possibly get</l>
					<l>and</l>
					<l>as</l>
					<l>it was on his account <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>th</hi> rather than our</l>
					<l>own we wished to go we very readily gave it</l>
					<l>up. It did not seem worth while to wait in</l>
					<l>this wretched place for good weather, so we took</l>
					<l>a <hi rend='underlined:true;'>bus</hi> (the only thing we could get) to Pinerolo,</l>
					<l>which we reached soon after two, having encountered</l>
					<l>both sun and shower. Mr Marsh telegraphed im-</l>
					<l>-mediately for Gaetano who came up with the post</l>
					<l>and returned the same evening.</l>
					<l>Wednesday May 11<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The weather looking still very</l>
					<l>doubtful we thought it best (especially as brother</l>
					<l>Charles felt quite unwell) not to go to La Tour</l>
					<l>as we had intended, but to wait one more day, in</l>
					<l>the hope of brighter prospects. We spent most of</l>
					<l>the day in a long drive up the Fenestrelle valley</l>
					<l>till we came in sight of the famous fortress.</l>
					<l>The valley is not particularly interesting for its scenery.</l>
					<l>There are however some fine stone quarries, and</l>
					<l>it was a curious sight to see all the workmen</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='7'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>lying about on the stone blocks with smaller bits</l>
					<l>for pillows taking their noon nap as we went up. When</l>
					<l>we came down everything was so changed. Hundreds</l>
					<l>of hammers were pounding and chisels clicking, the</l>
					<l>large blacksmith&apos;s shop was ringing with the sound of</l>
					<l>the tool-sharpening, and altogether everything looked</l>
					<l>as busy and bustling as the most zealous advocate</l>
					<l>for progress could desire. We had no particular ad-</l>
					<l>-ventures during our trip, and made but one stop</l>
					<l>which was to gather a handful of narcissus in</l>
					<l>a meadow, though I think brother Charles was</l>
					<l>a little tempted by the sign of the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Bonne Fame</hi></l>
					<l>a headless woman, very quaint. At dinner</l>
					<l>a council was held, and it was settled that</l>
					<l>in case of fine weather tomorrow, an early start</l>
					<l>should be taken in the morning, Mr Marsh for</l>
					<l>Turin, the other three to La Tour, there to</l>
					<l>take mules for Pra del Tor, and a grand</l>
					<l>rendez-vous was to take place at Pignerol again</l>
					<l>on Friday morning, when we would set off for</l>
					<l>Avigliana, in the hope of climbing the Saint-</l>
					<l>Michel Saturday. If the weather was bad we</l>
					<l>were all to return to Turin.</l>
					<l>Thursday May 12<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The weather <hi rend='underlined:true;'>was</hi> bad, - very bad,</l>
					<l>and we rang the bell at the Casa d&apos;Angennes</l>
					<l>before half past eight. It was delightful to see</l>
					<l>from the polished wax floors and other unmis-</l>
					<l>-takable symptoms, that if our excursion as a</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='8'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>mountain trip had been a fiasco we had at least</l>
					<l>escaped that fearful period of confusion known as</l>
					<l>&quot;house cleaning&quot; in New England. Mr Marsh found no</l>
					<l>less than three calls apparently of consequence, had been made</l>
					<l>upon him as Minister during his absence. The circumstance</l>
					<l>however most regretable was that Madame Marini</l>
					<l>died and was buried <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>during our absence</hi> while we were</l>
					<l>gone. The announcement of the hour of the funeral</l>
					<l>did not arrive in time for Mr Marsh even to be</l>
					<l>telegraphed in season to be present.</l>
					<l>Friday May 13<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>.</l>
					<l>The dinner at the Russian Ministers&apos;</l>
					<l>last night was not large but rather agreeable, several</l>
					<l>of the members of the Ministry were there, and ex-</l>
					<l>pressed themselves quite triumphantly about</l>
					<l>Venosta&apos;s speech in Parliament yesterday.</l>
					<l>The post brought me an interesting letter from</l>
					<l>our friend Mr Tebbs with a ten pound subscription</l>
					<l>for Mr Tottenham&apos;s proposed church. The Countess</l>
					<l>Gigliucci made me one of her long charming visits.</l>
					<l>I can see more and more of the artistic nature</l>
					<l>in her, and can understand perfectly well that she</l>
					<l>would be greatly disliked by those who should think</l>
					<l>it worth while to contradict any of either her strong</l>
					<l>opinions or her strong prejudices. For my own part</l>
					<l>I sympathize with so much of what she believes</l>
					<l>and thinks that I can very easily pass over in</l>
					<l>silence any little point of difference. On the</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='9'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>subject of the war with Denmark she is positively</l>
					<l>in a state of ebulition. To Mr de Bunsen, the</l>
					<l>other day she said: &quot;oh, I have a question to ask</l>
					<l>you!&quot; &quot;Anything you please Madame, except about the</l>
					<l>Schleswig-Holstein question.&quot; &quot;<hi rend='underlined:true;'>Never you fear! I</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>cannot trust myself to speak upon that dirty subject!</hi>&quot;</l>
					<l>Saturday May 14<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>We had a delightfully quiet day - finished</l>
					<l>About&apos;s Progrès, and read some articles in the Revue</l>
					<l>Cretienne - among others a notice of Rey&apos;s new book on</l>
					<l>Italy, much praised.</l>
					<l>Sunday May 15<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Carrie and I drove round to the Hôtel</l>
					<l>d&apos;Europe where we found Lady and Miss Estcourt safely</l>
					<l>arrived and ready to go to church with us. At half past</l>
					<l>five they came to us to dine, and pass the evening.</l>
					<l>What unmingled pleasure it is to have such friends with</l>
					<l>one. In the Estcourts we have often said that there is</l>
					<l>absolutely nothing more to be desired. After nigh twenty</l>
					<l>years acquaintance with Lady Estcourt and a dozen</l>
					<l>with Miss Estcourt, seeing them in the most intimate</l>
					<l>way, sometimes every day for months together, and several</l>
					<l>hours of every day, I can truly say they have never once</l>
					<l>given us a monent&apos;s pain by word or act. Their re-</l>
					<l>-finement is without affectation, their culture without</l>
					<l>pretention; and their ready, graceful wit has never a touch</l>
					<l>of severity or malice.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='10'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Monday May 16<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>A bad headache prevented me from going</l>
					<l>with Mr Marsh and the Estcourts to the Exposition,</l>
					<l>but I was well enough to welcome them on their</l>
					<l>return, to be at the dinner-table, and to drive out</l>
					<l>to the cemetery after dinner. The Estcourts were de-</l>
					<l>-lighted as I knew they would be with Vela&apos;s statue</l>
					<l>of Madame Collegno, also with many other monu-</l>
					<l>-ments by him. The Gajanis, who had been in</l>
					<l>for a moment during the day, came in to pass the</l>
					<l>evening with us, Dr and M<hi rend='superscript:true;'>me</hi> Monnet too, made</l>
					<l>us an extempore visit, and Miss Arbesser came</l>
					<l>at her usual late hour. We had a very pleasant</l>
					<l>time, but I was so thoroughly tired out before twelve</l>
					<l>at which time Miss A__ left me, that I could scarcely</l>
					<l>speak from sheer exhaustion.</l>
					<l>Tuesday 17<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th </hi>May.</l>
					<l>Our friends were with us all day and</l>
					<l>I was glad to have a chance to make them acquainted</l>
					<l>with M<hi rend='superscript:true;'>me</hi> Collegno. They fully endorsed my enthu-</l>
					<l>-siasm for her. After dinner we drove out <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>inten</hi></l>
					<l>intending to go to Pino to get a view from the top of</l>
					<l>the collina, but before we were half way up the hill</l>
					<l>one of our horses gave out. The rest of the party walked</l>
					<l>on while I remained in the carriage for the horse</l>
					<l>to recover. When they came back we were able to</l>
					<l>return to town but no more. Our drive on the</l>
					<l>whole proved a fiasco - still Monte Viso showed</l>
					<l>himself in all his majesty. I never saw it grander.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='11'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>The Estcourts had only time for a cup of tea before being</l>
					<l>obliged to return to their hotel to be ready in time for</l>
					<l>their early morning journey. As soon as they left us</l>
					<l>we planned a surprise for them, by getting up</l>
					<l>a little excursion to San Michele for tomorrow.</l>
					<l>Wednesday 18<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> May.</l>
					<l>At five o&apos;clock we had taken our</l>
					<l>coffee, and in a few minutes were all on our way</l>
					<l>to the station, the morning having proved fine even</l>
					<l>beyond our hopes. We were already seated in the</l>
					<l>railway carriage before our friends saw us. The sur-</l>
					<l>-prise <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>looking</hi> was all we could have desired, Alex.</l>
					<l>having taken good care &apos;not to let himself see&apos;.</l>
					<l>We all enjoyed the hour to Sant&apos; Ambrogio intensely</l>
					<l>- the Alps were overwhelmingly grand, and nobody</l>
					<l>said anything about the parting till it came, and</l>
					<l>was over in the brief moment that the train stopped</l>
					<l>at the station. Alex. set about looking up mules,</l>
					<l>and Carrie and I were soon furnished out. The one brought</l>
					<l>for Charles was such a skeleton that Alex. sent him off. We</l>
					<l>were mounted before eight, brother C. having already some</l>
					<l>twenty minutes the start of us. Carrie&apos;s monture was</l>
					<l>shipwrecked at an early stage of the ascent, and she was</l>
					<l>obliged to take to her feet with the consolatory obser-</l>
					<l>-vation from one of the party that a volunteer was more</l>
					<l>honourable than a conscript. We reached the the [sic] church</l>
					<l>of San Michele on the top of the height about ten o&apos;clock</l>
					<l>all very tired. The structure is an imposing one -</l>
					<l>half castle, half sanctuary in its appearance. The</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='12'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>advantage taken of the natural rock, partly for external</l>
					<l>wall, partly for staircases and other internal portions</l>
					<l>of the building is very striking; most of the edefice</l>
					<l>has been modernized by <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>the</hi> repairs, but the original</l>
					<l>great staircase and the arch under which it ter-</l>
					<l>-minates, as well the arch leading into the great</l>
					<l>chapel are of the tenth century. They are very inte-</l>
					<l>-resting of course, but portions of them are in so ruinous</l>
					<l>a condition that they may be expected to tumble down</l>
					<l>at any moment. There is a most curious old</l>
					<l>Gothic</l>
					<l>tomb</l>
					<l>of an abbot in the chapel which I wished much</l>
					<l>to look at longer, but Mr Marsh found the air so damp</l>
					<l>and chill after his severe climb that I did not like</l>
					<l>to keep him. Several members of the House of Savoy</l>
					<l>are buried here, but their tombs were of no special</l>
					<l>interest. This sanctuary is now the home of some</l>
					<l>dozen Rosminians, an order established by the</l>
					<l>great Rosmini, and, as he thought, more in accordance</l>
					<l>with the spirit of the age than those already existing.</l>
					<l>The good brothers had nothing to offer us but a cup</l>
					<l>of coffee and a few grissini, and, for a wonder, they</l>
					<l>would accept nothing for it. The place is much frequented</l>
					<l>in summer, and a large party of noisy French men and</l>
					<l>women showed that the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>season</hi> had already begun.</l>
					<l>Some twenty minutes below the Sanctuary on our way</l>
					<l>down, we found a little Albergo where we got</l>
					<l>bread, cheese, a young chicken, and a bottle of wine.</l>
					<l>It was pleasant here, under the roof that protected us</l>
					<l>from the sun, and we lingered till the heat of the</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='13'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>day was past. At Sant&apos; Ambrogio we dined comfortably</l>
					<l>and were at the station in abundant time for the</l>
					<l>evening train from Susa. A cup of tea was waiting</l>
					<l>for us at our cheerful home, and we were all</l>
					<l>tired enough to make a short evening afterwards.</l>
					<l>Thursday 19<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> May</l>
					<l>With the exception of the Tottenhams</l>
					<l>we had no visitors, but Mr Marsh and Carrie went</l>
					<l>out to pay some.</l>
					<l>Friday 20th May.</l>
					<l>The Countess Rocci tells me that her</l>
					<l>cousin, our unhappy landlady, has broken with her</l>
					<l>so completely that she does not even speak to her -</l>
					<l>the cause of the indignation being that she (the Countess</l>
					<l>Rocci) had <hi rend='underlined:true;'>gone over to the enemy</hi>. &apos;And who are the</l>
					<l>enemy?&apos; I asked. &quot;Her husband, her daughter and</l>
					<l>her daughter&apos;s husband,&quot; was the answer - . Once</l>
					<l>more all Italy is agog with the hourly expectation of</l>
					<l>the pope&apos;s death.</l>
					<l>Saturday May 21<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi></l>
					<l>During M<hi rend='superscript:true;'>me</hi> de Bunsen&apos;s long visit</l>
					<l>this morning she told me a sad story of the Cisterna</l>
					<l>family, which has been hushed up as much as possible</l>
					<l>and kept especially close from strangers. We had heard</l>
					<l>nothing of them since their retirement to the country after</l>
					<l>the death of the Prince, and the good abbé&apos;s allusions</l>
					<l>to the strange old-world doings going on there. The</l>
					<l>princess, half maddened by her bigotry, was not</l>
					<l>content with keeping the body of the Prince un-</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='14'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>-buried for many days, and constantly surrounded by</l>
					<l>priests saying masses, but she obliged her two daughters</l>
					<l>to remain in the same room both night and day,</l>
					<l>and to take even the little food allowed them in the</l>
					<l>same place. The eldest,* about sixteen, who seems to</l>
					<l>have not a little of the Merode in her, bore it tolerably</l>
					<l>well, but the younger, a child of thirteen, became nervous</l>
					<l>and distressed to the last degree, and finally implored</l>
					<l>her mother on her knees to allow her to leave the</l>
					<l>the apartment, saying at the same time that she could</l>
					<l>not endure it, that it would certainly kill her. The</l>
					<l>mother however, not only refused, but forced her to</l>
					<l>kiss the lips of her father just before the coffin was</l>
					<l>closed at the end of six days! The poor girl obeyed,</l>
					<l>but sickened immediately, and in a few days the</l>
					<l>wish she had expressed to her mother while suffering</l>
					<l>from her intolerable tyranny - &apos;oh, that I were with</l>
					<l>my father instead of being here with you&apos; was</l>
					<l>realized. During her short illness not even her</l>
					<l>guardians were allowed to see her, on the ground</l>
					<l>that the time had not yet expired for the family to</l>
					<l>receive even their intimate friends with propriety.</l>
					<l>I could not have believed this story had not</l>
					<l>Madame de Bunsen received it from unquestionable</l>
					<l>sources. Quite early this morning we went to see</l>
					<l>the yearly exposition of pictures, and found as usual</l>
					<l>plenty of red tape to vex us. The ridiculous regulation</l>
					<l>forbidding one to return to a room once visited prevented</l>
					<l>us from being able to compare certain pictures with</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='15'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>one another as we wished to do in order to decide about</l>
					<l>making a few purchases. <hi rend='underlined:true;'>The visiting the sick</hi>, <hi rend='underlined:true;'>The teaching</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>the ignorant</hi>, two pictures by Scherer, tempted us a</l>
					<l>good deal but we could not go back to reexamine them</l>
					<l>without buying a new set of tickets and entering again at</l>
					<l>the principal entrance! Had it been a place much</l>
					<l>visited, there might have been a show of excuse for this</l>
					<l>severe discipline, but there were not six persons there</l>
					<l>besides ourselves, and it is simply a shoot from</l>
					<l>one of those old roots of the Dark Ages of which George Sand</l>
					<l>speaks so feelingly. We were greatly struck by a por-</l>
					<l>-trait of the King in pen and ink, made by an attaché</l>
					<l>of the Peruvian Legation - a young man of about twenty</l>
					<l>who has had no instruction whatever. He is of Indian</l>
					<l>origin by the mother&apos;s side, and the Peruvian gov&apos;t</l>
					<l>have been wise enough to send him to Italy expressly</l>
					<l>for the purpose of giving him an opportunity to</l>
					<l>cultivate his most extraordinary talent. His</l>
					<l>name is, I think <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>illegible</hi></l>
					<l>Tinajeros.</l>
					<l>The exposition is on</l>
					<l>the whole not very creditable to the artists of Northern</l>
					<l>Italy.</l>
					<l>Sunday May 22<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi></l>
					<l>While the Kossuths were with</l>
					<l>us after church, Mr Medina of the Peruvian Le-</l>
					<l>-gation came to see us, and surprised us with his</l>
					<l>very good English. It is curious to <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>see</hi> recognize in</l>
					<l>every one who comes from the New World a</l>
					<l>certain indescribable freshness, freedom from</l>
					<l>conventionality, and abhorrence of all petty tyrannies.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='16'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>we found our young Peruvian friend not less irritated</l>
					<l>than ourselves at the ridiculous regulations of the</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>esposizione</hi>. The Kossuths diverted us as usual</l>
					<l>by their comic mixture of simplicity and knowledge</l>
					<l>of the world. The Countess Maggiolini passed the</l>
					<l>evening with us, so that we had not much of</l>
					<l>a Sunday to ourselves.</l>
					<l>Monday May 23<hi rend='superscript:true;'>rd</hi></l>
					<l>Madame de Bunsen brought her</l>
					<l>sweet baby at a very early hour this morning, and</l>
					<l>Commodore Aulick who was here before her</l>
					<l>went back to the Hôtel to fetch the little Stouts.</l>
					<l>I was disposed to feel an interest in the children</l>
					<l>as doubly orphans, but the eldest managed in the</l>
					<l>first five minutes to make herself thoroughly re-</l>
					<l>-pulsive. The mixture of self-conceit and ill-temper</l>
					<l>she exhibited were enough to spoil a dozen children.</l>
					<l>&apos;You are all happy to go home, I suppose&apos; I said. &quot;No, I</l>
					<l>do not wish to go home.&quot; &apos;You have been in Italy</l>
					<l>so long [illegible]</l>
					<l>then that</l>
					<l>it is hard for you to part</l>
					<l>from your young friends.&apos; &quot;I <hi rend='underlined:true;'>have</hi> no young friends,</l>
					<l>and I do not wish to have any, and I do not</l>
					<l>intend to have any. I have already been deceived&quot;.</l>
					<l>I could not help laughing outright at the absurd af-</l>
					<l>-fectation of the child, then said: &apos;But it is a great pity for</l>
					<l>you not to have friends, one is never happy in this world</l>
					<l>without them.&apos; &quot;Oh I&apos;m very happy - besides I have friends</l>
					<l>enough among older people, married ladies and so on,</l>
					<l>but I don&apos;t like those of my own age, they are so silly.&quot;</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='17'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Margaret Trotti brought a beautiful note from the Countess</l>
					<l>Collegno, with the present of a</l>
					<l>biograph-</l>
					<l>sketch of her husband by</l>
					<l>Massino d&apos;Azeglio - most interesting to us - We had sent</l>
					<l>her Mr Winthrop&apos;s &amp; Mr Marsh&apos;s notices of Gen. Estcourt.</l>
					<l>The Countess Babbo is said to be at the point of death -</l>
					<l>She is greatly beloved, and will be greatly lamented. Mar-</l>
					<l>garet told me, in proof of her great kindness of heart,</l>
					<l>that she refused to receive the last consolations</l>
					<l>of the Church last evening for fear the news of her</l>
					<l>being so low might keep some of her friends from a</l>
					<l>large ball and so occasion a disappointment to</l>
					<l>them &amp; their hostess. It was with much difficulty</l>
					<l>that she was persuaded to give up these scruples</l>
					<l>and only after the assurance of her physicians that</l>
					<l>the morning might be too late. I mention this</l>
					<l>only to show from what different points of view</l>
					<l>certain subjects may be regarded, not to censure</l>
					<l>this truly noble woman. The Peruzzis came while</l>
					<l>we were dining. The little Pallecelo read to me an hour -</l>
					<l>I don&apos;t see what is to become of her - poor thing</l>
					<l>Tuesday May 24<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Miss Arbesser was here very</l>
					<l>early to tell me of the illness of the Princess Margaret</l>
					<l>to get information about Miss Müller etc. - the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Aulicks</hi></l>
					<l>came again &amp; visit followed visit almost till dinner</l>
					<l>I am sometimes weary of all this to a degree and</l>
					<l>especially on days like this when most of my visitors</l>
					<l>are empty and my own heart is so full - we have</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='18'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>just heard of the terrible battles between Grant &amp; Lee on the 6 and to</l>
					<l>the 11<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>. I should not however count Miss Arbesser</l>
					<l>among the empty (though she is certainly very flighty)</l>
					<l>nor the Countess Pasolini, who belongs to the Arconati</l>
					<l>circle, and was today, as she always is, most charming.</l>
					<l>Miss Arbesser told me one court anecdote which had</l>
					<l>much amused her, but at which I felt my smile to be a</l>
					<l>forced one. It had become known unofficially by the</l>
					<l>Maison d&apos;Instruction, that the physician to the prince</l>
					<l>and princess was about to be married, and some one</l>
					<l>had remarked in the presence of the little prince</l>
					<l>that the promised bride was no longer young, that she</l>
					<l>had false teeth etc. A few days later the physician</l>
					<l>himself came to announce</l>
					<l>his engagement</l>
					<l>formally to his royal</l>
					<l>charge. The prince replied: &quot;Ma signor dottore, la</l>
					<l>vostra sposa non è più giovane, - ha i denti</l>
					<l>finti!&quot; Young Aulick brought the eldest Stout</l>
					<l>again this evening, and she appeared much better.</l>
					<l>She is quick-sighted and very likely discovered that</l>
					<l>her nonsense did not impress as she expected.</l>
					<l>Wednesday May 25<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Brother Charles left us this morning for a</l>
					<l>tour to the South. When Mr Meille came in I begged</l>
					<l>husband to take my place and receive him as I felt so</l>
					<l>thoroughly tired, but he wished me to make Mr Meille an</l>
					<l>exception, and go in, which I did, and was of course over-</l>
					<l>-taken by other visits and kept nearly three hours. I got</l>
					<l>some comfort out of it however, by having a good half-</l>
					<l>-hour&apos;s railing at the conduct of the Austrians and</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='19'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Prussians in their behaviour towards Denmark, old Madame</l>
					<l>Browne furnishing the strophes and I joining in the chorus.</l>
					<l>The Countess Gigliucci brought a nice note from</l>
					<l>Mrs Somerville with very kind messages for us, and</l>
					<l>promises of photographs etc. for the Sanitary.</l>
					<l>The Gajanis were with us in the evening, Gajani</l>
					<l>himself being full of a scheme for joining with</l>
					<l>Col. Gowan in a search after petroleum in Italy.</l>
					<l>Thursday May 26<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>More news from America - the great battle of</l>
					<l>the 12<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> favorable to the Union cause - thank God. But</l>
					<l>oh this frightful loss of life! - It being <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Corpus Domini</hi></l>
					<l>we were left to ourselves all day. The quiet was most</l>
					<l>refreshing, but would have been more enjoyed had we</l>
					<l>been sure of it beforehand. Dear Mme Collegno,</l>
					<l>with Rita, spent a long evening with us - saintly soul!</l>
					<l>We read this morning d&apos;Azeglio&apos;s sketch of Gen. Collegno -</l>
					<l>most eloquent &amp; beautiful - also the Gen&apos;s most interesting</l>
					<l>diary of the siege of <unclear>Navarino</unclear>. Mme Collegno</l>
					<l>may well feel with Tennyson <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Tis better</hi> etc,</l>
					<l>I could not help telling her that to have lived 18</l>
					<l>years the beloved companion of such a man was</l>
					<l>worth a thousand ordinary lives.</l>
					<l>Friday May 27<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The rain did not keep Mrs Tottenham</l>
					<l>from us - otherwise the morning was quiet. Our reading</l>
					<l>today was Collegno&apos;s Journal of the Siege of Navarino &amp;</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>Phillip von Artevelde</hi>. We have met with no less</l>
					<l>than <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>five</hi></l>
					<l>six</l>
					<l>old acquaintances in the Gen&apos;s journal -</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='20'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Mad. Collegno gives an amusing account of Kalergi&apos;s [Kallergis&apos;]</l>
					<l>coming to her for a copy of Gen. Collegno&apos;s Diary!</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='21'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Dr Millingen, Churchill, Kalergi, Macri-Jami, Suleyman Bey -</l>
					<l>Mari - most of them we found the same in character</l>
					<l>as when Collegno parted from them.</l>
					<l>Saturday 28<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>We have bad news from our army this</l>
					<l>morning, but we hope it is an invention of the enemy.</l>
					<l>Went out for a little shopping and came back in time</l>
					<l>to see &amp; comfort my unfortunate Venetian protegee,</l>
					<l>The good Duchess Bevilacqua &amp; Marchese del</l>
					<l>Careto have stepped in to give her a lift.</l>
					<l>The Countess Castellani and her pretty Inez were with us</l>
					<l>when Rustem Bey came in - Poor man, I should hardly</l>
					<l>have known him. His grief for the loss of his mother is as</l>
					<l>genuine as his love for her was engrossing and untiring. It</l>
					<l>is interesting to see how completely his conventionalism has</l>
					<l>dropped from him, and of how deep feeling he is capable.</l>
					<l>When I remember that this man is one of the most</l>
					<l>thorough devotees to mere form that I have ever seen, I</l>
					<l>grow charitable and half believe that there is a heart</l>
					<l>at the bottom of this great formal world. Mr Artoni</l>
					<l>dined with us - the Countess Collegno took Carrie to drive</l>
					<l>on the Piazza later, and we were peacefully in bed by ten.</l>
					<l>Sunday 29<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Only Mr Marsh went to church. I did</l>
					<l>not feel very well, and Carrie stayed with me, and</l>
					<l>read me the details of that awful battle - week from</l>
					<l>the fifth to the twelfth inclusive: This slaughter</l>
					<l>is really too dreadful. God grant it may not be all in vain.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='22'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>What shall we hear next? Mr Valerio came in and talked</l>
					<l>with us an hour. He is hopeful, and does not believe much</l>
					<l>in the unfavourable rumors. He told us an odd story of his</l>
					<l>having obtained from the proper authorities permission to</l>
					<l>land a hundred barrels of petroleum in each of two</l>
					<l>lighters - that in loading these lighters 99 barrels were put</l>
					<l>on one, and 101 on the other - that he was called</l>
					<l>to <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>an</hi> account for <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>this by some</hi> the one missing on the</l>
					<l>first boat, and when he stated that it would be</l>
					<l>found on the other, he was fined, first for the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>minus</hi></l>
					<l>of the first load, and secondly, for the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>plus</hi> on the second.</l>
					<l>We discussed the Sanitary Commission, and he said what</l>
					<l>many others have said here before, nothing could be done</l>
					<l>with such a charity on this side of the water. It would</l>
					<l>be entangled and suffocated by red-tape before it was</l>
					<l>a week old. Our lovely friend, the Countess Gautier</l>
					<l>surprised us by a visit, and still more by her worn</l>
					<l>and wasted appearance. She has been ill almost ever</l>
					<l>since she was here before, and I am afraid the whispers</l>
					<l>about heart-disease have only too much foundation.</l>
					<l>I cannot see that she has much to live for however,</l>
					<l>and she seems good enough for a better place.</l>
					<l>Monday May 30<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Mr Marsh went out with Carrie to pay</l>
					<l>some visits - otherwise we had an unbroken day to</l>
					<l>ourselves.</l>
					<l>Tuesday 31<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi>.</l>
					<l>In bed all day; and a rainy one at that.</l>
					<l>Carrie at the Tottenhams. Too dark for much reading in</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='23'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>my room, so that I was necessarily left to my own</l>
					<l>meditations.</l>
					<l>Wednesday June 1<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi>.</l>
					<l>Still in bed all day - missing in consequence</l>
					<l>Dr Butler who is just arrived from Rome. The Arconati</l>
					<l>and Rothan I might have received in my bed-room, but</l>
					<l>felt too weak and ill to talk, so lost their visits too, also</l>
					<l>Mrs Mayhew&apos;s and I don&apos;t know how many others.</l>
					<l>Thursday June 2<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi></l>
					<l>A letter from Mr Clay saying he has</l>
					<l>been <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>illegible</hi> ill in Rome. Poor fellow! I&apos;m afraid he won&apos;t</l>
					<l>get much pleasure out of his trip. Another miserable</l>
					<l>day for me, but luckily the rain prevents me from</l>
					<l>being made nervous by visits I can&apos;t receive. Dr</l>
					<l>Butler who was to have dined here today, was unex-</l>
					<l>-pectedly obliged to leave at five o&apos;clock. The abbé</l>
					<l>came in in the early part of the evening to announce</l>
					<l>his safe arrival from Paris after a two-months&apos;</l>
					<l>absence. Mr Marsh reports him in good health and</l>
					<l>spirits, and full of interesting matter.</l>
					<l>Friday, June 3<hi rend='superscript:true;'>rd</hi></l>
					<l>Mr Marsh went to pay some visits</l>
					<l>that were crying out against us - among others, to</l>
					<l>Mme Solvyns who spoke severals times during his</l>
					<l><hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>visit</hi></l>
					<l>stay</l>
					<l>&amp; even quoted some lines from Taylor&apos;s <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>desc.</hi></l>
					<l>description of Como where they are to spend the</l>
					<l>summer. Rustem Bey he found ill in bed.</l>
					<l>Talking with Mrs Mayhew about the hard fate of</l>
					<l>the poor here, forced to live in the garrets of</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='24'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>these lofty palaces, without fire in winter &amp; suffocated by</l>
					<l>the heat in summer, obliged to carry water &amp; every thing</l>
					<l>else up so many flights of stairs etc - the lady replied</l>
					<l>&quot;But do you not think it safer for the Government that the</l>
					<l>poor should live in this way in the garrets of the rich</l>
					<l>than that they should have houses in quarters by them-</l>
					<l>selves? Would they not then meet together to talk over</l>
					<l>political subjects, and so get uneasy and turbulent?</l>
					<l>And might not such a person as Garibaldi then</l>
					<l>easily stir them up to mischief.&quot; I should like to</l>
					<l>have seen how Mr Marsh took this, but he says</l>
					<l>he tried to answer her as a lady should be answered</l>
					<l>though he could not help telling her that &apos;no good</l>
					<l>Government could possibly need to take such measures</l>
					<l>for its own safety, that he saw no reason why the</l>
					<l>poor should not talk over their wrongs together as</l>
					<l>well as the rich their rights, and furthermore that</l>
					<l>for his own part he would trust Garibaldi to</l>
					<l>wrong neither rich nor poor.</l>
					<l>Niccolini lectured to-night on <hi rend='underlined:true;'>La via per andare</hi></l>
					<l>a Romo - the Matteuccis sent us tickets to</l>
					<l>dispose of if we could. We took ten &amp; gave</l>
					<l>away as many of them as we could. Mr Matt.</l>
					<l>sent me also his Lectures.</l>
					<l>Saturday June 4<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Dressed to-day for the first time</l>
					<l>since Monday, but find it hard work to [illegible]</l>
					<l>walk steadily. Saw no one till after dinner</l>
					<l>then had visitors all the evening - went to bed</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='25'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>tired &amp; nervous and not to sleep.</l>
					<l>Sunday June 5<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>It seems little like sunday to-day. At an</l>
					<l>early hour the whole city was astir, the military</l>
					<l>collecting etc. It is the Festa of the Statuto &amp; the Review</l>
					<l>is expected to be finer than usual. Mr Marsh and</l>
					<l>C. have gone to the balcony of the Ministero &amp;</l>
					<l>every servant is in the street except those neces-</l>
					<l>sary to protect the house. I have just returned</l>
					<l>from our back-terrace from [where] I had a view of his</l>
					<l>Majesty as he passed through the Piazza</l>
					<l>amidst the shouts of the multitude. O Victor Emanuel</l>
					<l>had ever king such a chance to work a great work</l>
					<l>as you! And yet alas how unequal the man to the</l>
					<l>position. Educated to feel himself above those moral obli-</l>
					<l>gations admitted to be binding on ordinary men, given up</l>
					<l>to selfish pleasures, he is letting slip the most glorious</l>
					<l>opportunity to build up a great nation. If <hi rend='underlined:true;'>fighting</hi> could</l>
					<l>make his Italy none could make it better than he - &amp;</l>
					<l>the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>re galantuomo</hi> too he will always be - but</l>
					<l>sacrifice his own personal tastes</l>
					<l>in order</l>
					<l>to learn the wants of his</l>
					<l>subjects at Naples, at Florence, at Milan, to pour over</l>
					<l>histories &amp; political economies &amp; treatises on Religious</l>
					<l>liberty etc - not he! &apos;I have given you a Constitution&apos;</l>
					<l>he says practically, &apos;govern yourselves by it as best</l>
					<l>you can &amp; don&apos;t bother me about it!&apos; According</l>
					<l>to Miss Arbesser the princess Margaret has different views</l>
					<l>When told of the flight of the emperor of Austria from Vienna</l>
					<l>in &apos;48, the princess, then nine years old, said, &quot;aber</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='26'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>er hat sehr schlecht gethan! Ein König sollte <hi rend='underlined:true;'>nie</hi> sein</l>
					<l>Volk verlassen!&quot; Er lebt nicht für sich selbst!&quot;</l>
					<l>And here I must insert another princely anecdote - The</l>
					<l>Duchess of Parma, so lately departed in the richest odour </l>
					<l>of sanctity, said to the Duchess of Genoa, soon after <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>the</hi></l>
					<l>her - <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>Parmas</hi> -</l>
					<l>[illegible]</l>
					<l>- marriage with the brutal Duke of Parma -</l>
					<l>&quot;Mais, ma chère amie, qui voulez-vous! J&apos;avais deja</l>
					<l>vignt-cinq ans, et j&apos;aurais epousé le diable même</l>
					<l>plustot [plutôt] que de ne pas me marier.&quot; Poor woman! she</l>
					<l>did the next thing to it. Mr Marsh came back from</l>
					<l>the Review before it was over, leaving Carrie to the</l>
					<l>care of Madame Collegno, who brought her back an hour</l>
					<l>later in the finest spirits. Altogether it was a brilliant</l>
					<l>affair - Soon after dinner Mrs &amp; Miss Cleveland, our</l>
					<l>old friends of &apos;61 at Trombetta&apos;s, came in. We were quite</l>
					<l>thrown off our equinimity by the pleasure of seeing them,</l>
					<l>and we talked for an hour and a half <hi rend='underlined:true;'>like mad</hi>, as</l>
					<l>Robert Browning says. Heaven will indeed be a blessed</l>
					<l>place if it is made up of the like of these - After they went</l>
					<l>away my head was in the greatest confusion, partly from</l>
					<l>what I had learned from, or told to, them, and partly</l>
					<l>from the things I had forgotten to ask or to tell. Mr</l>
					<l>Marsh walked back to the Hotel with them, - then</l>
					<l>came the hour for lighting up, and the Crown, the</l>
					<l>scutcheon of Savoia, and the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>V.V.E.</hi> were soon blazing</l>
					<l>away over our balcony, supported by a line of red</l>
					<l>white and green lights extending to the theatre</l>
					<l>on one side, and around to the Via del Moro on</l>
					<l>the other. It was really very pretty, and we beat</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='27'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>the Frenchman, as Mr Marsh and Carrie triumphantly</l>
					<l>asserted, after making a personal reconnaissance.</l>
					<l>He, the Frenchman illuminated only with <hi rend='underlined:true;'>his</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>own colors</hi>, red <hi rend='underlined:true;'>blue</hi> and white, which did not</l>
					<l>fail to call forth uncomplimentary ejaculations from</l>
					<l>the groups in the streets. The public buildings generally</l>
					<l>were very handsomely illuminated especially the</l>
					<l>Palazzo Madama, the front of which seemed wreathed</l>
					<l>by an immense garland composed of smaller</l>
					<l>garlands, and within each of these a bouquet of</l>
					<l>flowers, red green and white.</l>
					<l>Monday June 6<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>While Mr Rogers of Naples was</l>
					<l>with us Mrs and Miss Cleveland came again - and</l>
					<l>again we talked at high pressure for another hour. I</l>
					<l>am so grieved that they cannot stay longer. The</l>
					<l>papers this morning give us the news of poor Hawthorne&apos;s</l>
					<l>sudden death. What changes we shall find if we ever</l>
					<l>live to return to our country. I was just flattering myself,</l>
					<l>after M<hi rend='superscript:true;'>me</hi> Arconati and M<hi rend='superscript:true;'>me</hi> Matteucci left me,</l>
					<l>on being in luck today in having only agreeable visits,</l>
					<l>when young Master Day, once of Norwich, now of</l>
					<l>New York, was announced. He had preluded his visit</l>
					<l>by a flourish of trumpets from Naples, so that we</l>
					<l>were not wholly unprepared. This young gentleman,</l>
					<l>of the genus snob, species copperhead, was so full</l>
					<l>of himself, the attentions he had received on board</l>
					<l>the Re Galantuomo and at Naples, that it was</l>
					<l>really pityably ludicrous to listen to the account he</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='28'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>gave of the tributes rendered to the &quot;intrepid young</l>
					<l>American.&quot; We listened with what patience we might</l>
					<l>to such an overflow of vanity and folly as one rarely</l>
					<l>meets with even in young men of his tender years -</l>
					<l>but when he asked me if I still kept up my</l>
					<l>interest in N.Y. society etc, I answered, and I felt</l>
					<l>my cheek hot at the moment, that of course I could not</l>
					<l>fail to feel the strongest interest in my own country</l>
					<l>at such a moment as this; but that so far as the</l>
					<l>mere social life of N.Y. was concerned I could feel</l>
					<l>little but mortification at the discredit thrown upon us</l>
					<l>abroad, by its extravagance and frivolity - Our youngster</l>
					<l>looked a little hit, and then stammered out an expression</l>
					<l>of a belief that &quot;the best pepople in N.Y. were now beginning</l>
					<l>to wake up.&quot; I had opened the flood-gates, and it</l>
					<l>was now very easy for me to say - &apos;As to that I think</l>
					<l>the best people of N.Y. have waked up long ago, but</l>
					<l>it is hard to believe that there is anything there so poor</l>
					<l>that it will not be roused now.&quot; Our young friend changed</l>
					<l>the subject, and began to talk again about European</l>
					<l>society, etc. etc. etc. and I took occasion to tell him that</l>
					<l>an American who wished to obtain any social position</l>
					<l>abroad must do so by a manly and independent maintenance</l>
					<l>of those principles which distinguished us as a nation -</l>
					<l>that every country-man or woman of ours who thought to</l>
					<l>gain credit in Europe by phrases like these (which</l>
					<l>I had often heard) - &quot;our republicanism after all, is</l>
					<l>only theoretical - there is as distinct a division of classes</l>
					<l>with us as in Europe - the best families do not - etc etc&quot;</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='29'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>every one who talks in this way is, and deserves to be, set</l>
					<l>down as a snob. Such persons may be treated civilly to</l>
					<l>their faces, but they are invariably the subjects of rid-</l>
					<l>-icule and contempt - I was almost startled at</l>
					<l>having gone so far, when Mr Marsh reassured me</l>
					<l>by saying - &quot;No American has ever held a higher social</l>
					<l>position in Europe than Charles Sumner, and he</l>
					<l>obtained it by a noble and fearless defence of the largest</l>
					<l>human liberty - by always showing himself a thorough</l>
					<l>American, gentlemanly in his bearing to all, and subservient</l>
					<l>to none.&quot; When our visitor took his leave husband</l>
					<l>laughed very heartily at what I had said, and added, -</l>
					<l> &quot;our letters went to their address -&quot; But I am afraid</l>
					<l>braying will be lost on a young man who was asked to</l>
					<l>be photographed forty five times in Naples in the course</l>
					<l>of a few days, and who received one hundred and</l>
					<l>ninety-six visiting cards in the same incredibly short time.</l>
					<l>Tuesday June 7<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The intrepid Mr Day sent in a card</l>
					<l>to Mr Marsh quite early this morning to inform him</l>
					<l>that at half past twelve he should call to take</l>
					<l>him to pay a visit to his friend Capt. Tsola. !</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh happened, by fortune to be out, or</l>
					<l>the young man might have received an unexpected</l>
					<l>answer. Somehow or other he met his friend Capt.</l>
					<l>Tsola, who, having more sense of propriety than him-</l>
					<l>-self, proposed to come and make a visit to Mr</l>
					<l>Marsh instead of staying at home to receive him.</l>
					<l>The latter had not yet returned from the Ministers</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='30'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>when the Capt. and his quondam guest presented</l>
					<l>themselves. I received the Capt. graciously of course,</l>
					<l>and Mr Day as stiffly as I well could and be civil.</l>
					<l>The conversation being in French in which our young</l>
					<l>friend couldn&apos;t show to the best advantage, he</l>
					<l>was kept reasonably under. I did not fail to</l>
					<l>speak to the Captain of the life and death struggle</l>
					<l>going on in our country, and of the sacrifices that</l>
					<l>were making on the part of her sons to save her.</l>
					<l>They took their leave without making a long visit,</l>
					<l>and the intrepid American looked somehow or other</l>
					<l>very quiet. I had no other visitors except the always-</l>
					<l>welcome Gigliuccis. The races, to which Carrie was</l>
					<l>to have gone with Countess Collegno were spoiled</l>
					<l>by a heavy shower, which also filled the gaz-tubes,</l>
					<l>and extinguished the grand illumination which was</l>
					<l>to have been. A great disappointment among the</l>
					<l>thousands who have come in from the country.</l>
					<l>Wednesday June 8<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>This evening Mr Day favoured us again,</l>
					<l>and this time he really showed considerable tact. His last</l>
					<l>two visits had taught him something of his ground, and</l>
					<l>he avoided collision very dexterously. He told us he was</l>
					<l>to receive the order of S. S. Maurizio e Lazzaro as a reward</l>
					<l>of merit, and asked if there was any impropriety in doing</l>
					<l>so. I should have mentioned that Mr Clark of Milan</l>
					<l>breakfasted with us, and made a favourable impression</l>
					<l>as to the good judgment with which he would be likely</l>
					<l>to conduct operations there.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='31'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Pauline Benedetti, for several days after awakening</l>
					<l>from her strange &amp; fearful sleep, gave great hope of</l>
					<l>final recovery, then rapidly lost again the strength she</l>
					<l>had regained and her second death was reality.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='32'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Thursday 9<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Some Georgia boys, who have been at</l>
					<l>school in Geneva called here this morning to get</l>
					<l>passports renewed etc. Poor fellows! They made no</l>
					<l>grimace at the oath of allegiance, but I&apos;m afraid</l>
					<l>it went hard. I could not help being sorry for them,</l>
					<l>for, whether Union or rebels it must be melancholy to</l>
					<l>them to think of their state now. Thanks to these</l>
					<l>showery afternoons we have had little company for a</l>
					<l>couple of days, and it almost seems like the quiet of</l>
					<l>the dear old Castle. Marguerite came to see Carrie,</l>
					<l>but I had no visits. Young Day came in to say goodbye.</l>
					<l>Friday 10<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> June.</l>
					<l>An important business-letter from Mr</l>
					<l>Edmunds in answer to one I wrote him little more</l>
					<l>than a month ago. The home-news is of so anxious a</l>
					<l>character that we scarcely breathe between despatches.</l>
					<l>Carrie paid some visits today to the Castagnettas etc, and</l>
					<l>picked up a good deal of neighbourhood news, among other</l>
					<l>things the fact that Miss Benedetti had been very ill</l>
					<l>and at one time fell into so deep and terrible a lethargy</l>
					<l>that her death was announced even by letter to distant</l>
					<l>friends. She revived however, and at last accounts</l>
					<l>was better. With some friends in the evening the</l>
					<l>conversation turned on the English, and English politics.</l>
					<l>Husband said &quot;Les Français aiment à être gouvernés</l>
					<l>par leurs supérieures, mais les Anglais aiment à</l>
					<l>être méprisés par le leurs.&quot;</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='33'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Saturday June 11</l>
					<l>Mr Bing of Smyrna paid</l>
					<l>us a long morning visit, and the Baroness Gautier</l>
					<l>and Countess Collegno filled up the rest of the time</l>
					<l>till dinner. I am always the better morally and</l>
					<l>intellectually for a long talk with either of these</l>
					<l>two ladies, and I bade the latter goodbye for a</l>
					<l>month with real pain. She goes to the sea for</l>
					<l>bathing. Mr Bing dined with us and told us</l>
					<l>much about the East and Eastern acquaintances.</l>
					<l>The rascalities of Offley and Dainese formed a</l>
					<l>part of his theme. Mr Bing is a man of unusual</l>
					<l>talent and attainment, sees everything with a clear</l>
					<l>and judicious vision, but his capacity for talking</l>
					<l>outruns even his other remarkable qualities. He left</l>
					<l>us only a little before eleven, after having been listened</l>
					<l>to for five hours and a half; add the hour and a</l>
					<l>half in the morning and it foots up <hi rend='underlined:true;'>seven</hi>!</l>
					<l>The abbé Baruffi diverted Mr Marsh and Carrie</l>
					<l>from their duties to our dinner-guest for half an hour,</l>
					<l>but I had no release. If there must be such talkers</l>
					<l>however it is a blessing when they are gifted otherwise</l>
					<l>like our friend Bing.</l>
					<l>Sunday June 12<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> [Image]</l>
					<l>In spite of the shower in the early</l>
					<l>part of the afternoon, the illumination proved a</l>
					<l>grand success tonight. The Via di Pò was</l>
					<l>one gorgeous arch of light, and the great Stella</l>
					<l>d&apos;Italia shone out magnificently on the</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='34'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Piazza Vittorio Emanuele. Of the tens of thousands</l>
					<l>in the streets every one seemed cheerful but quiet. There</l>
					<l>was no drunkeness, no noise, no rowdyism of any</l>
					<l>kind. Indeed there are such contradictions in</l>
					<l>the character of this people, that I sometimes feel</l>
					<l>myself even more ignorant of them than before</l>
					<l>I came among them. Here is the whole</l>
					<l>population of a city afloat at night with a very</l>
					<l>small police, and scarcely noticeable anywhere</l>
					<l>- still all is order, and no one complains of insult</l>
					<l>or robbery. And yet in this same city a young lady</l>
					<l>is not safe to walk ten rods by herself in broad</l>
					<l>day-light. One of my best friends in Turin told me</l>
					<l>two days ago that for a little time she had the</l>
					<l>habit on returning from a walk with her niece</l>
					<l>to leave the young lady at the foot of her own staircase</l>
					<l>to go up to the second piano by herself, when she, the</l>
					<l>aunt, wished to pay more visits, or to extend her walk.</l>
					<l>This fact was noticed by some scoundrel, who watched</l>
					<l>his opportunity, secreted himself behind one of the landings,</l>
					<l>and when the young lady was going up alone, sprang</l>
					<l>out upon her, caught her in his arms, and she</l>
					<l>escaped from him only by succeeding with a sudden</l>
					<l>effort, in reaching a bell which she knew where to find,</l>
					<l>and which summoned the servants. The vilain</l>
					<l>however was off as a matter of course before any</l>
					<l>one had the presence of mind enough to seize him.</l>
					<l>One difficulty seems to be that an infamous</l>
					<l>act like this is not regarded as a crime, and a</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='35'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>The Duchess has been roused to indignation by</l>
					<l>finding that a letter written by her last Spring</l>
					<l>to a friend in Vienna and sealed with her own</l>
					<l>ducal seal, was detained at the Post Office here from</l>
					<l>political suspicion. This is worthy Austria itself,</l>
					<l>and I am utterly ashamed.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='36'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>young man who should be detected in it would</l>
					<l>not be disgraced.</l>
					<l>Monday June 13<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Mr Bing favoured us with a</l>
					<l>couple of hours more this morning - merits and</l>
					<l>demerits as before. Miss Arbesser came after dinner</l>
					<l>with a charming budget of gossip as usual. The sum</l>
					<l>and substance of a part of it was that the young Castiglione</l>
					<l>bride from America had not the brightest prospects</l>
					<l>before her. She wishes us to try to give a certain</l>
					<l>Herr Ritter, a protégé of hers, a lift in the way of</l>
					<l>helping him get out an opera at which he has been</l>
					<l>labouring in vain for six years past - <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Italia risorta</hi></l>
					<l>is the title of his work which she thinks rather en-</l>
					<l>-thusiastic than patriotic on his part. The</l>
					<l>Marchesa Arconati is looking into the music</l>
					<l>a little to see whether to take hold of it. The</l>
					<l>more I know of this remarkable woman,</l>
					<l>(the Arconati) the more I am filled</l>
					<l>with admiration. Brilliant she is not</l>
					<l>in the least, but there is such an extraor-</l>
					<l>-dinary breadth and depth about her, &amp;</l>
					<l>a more than Roman firmness of purpose</l>
					<l>with an individuality the most independent</l>
					<l>that I have ever met in my life. I love</l>
					<l>the Collegno best, but I look with reverent</l>
					<l>awe on the Arconati. The Gajanis brought</l>
					<l>in Cerotti, generalissimo of Engineers, whose</l>
					<l>acquaintance Mr Marsh was very glad to make.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='37'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>&quot;Je voudrais savoir si toute l&apos;histoire des</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>Lances of Lynwood</hi> est véritable. Je</l>
					<l>voudrais savoir si le bon et généreux</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>Gaston d&apos;Aubrîcourt</hi> <hi rend='underlined:true;'>le Squire</hi> a vraiment</l>
					<l>existé. Et qui était le petit <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Lord Edward</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>car dans l&apos;histoire on dit que le Black</hi></l>
					<l>Prince n&apos;a eu qu&apos;un fils le roi Richard II&quot;</l>
					<l>(Copy of queries put by the Princess Marguerite</l>
					<l>of Savoy to Miss Sewell)</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='38'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>The Seraphic Castillia also joined our little circle.</l>
					<l>Tuesday June 14<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>A spring-like day of wind and shower.</l>
					<l>No visitors except the Russian <hi rend='underlined:true;'>chargé</hi>, Count</l>
					<l>Osten Sachen and his wife, born Princess Galitzin</l>
					<l>- thorough people of the world, no sharp corners of course.</l>
					<l>On the whole I think they will be quite an accession</l>
					<l>to the Diplomatic Circle, though the Countess herself</l>
					<l>is in very delicate health.</l>
					<l>Wednesday June 15<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Our days are almost entirely</l>
					<l>swallowed up by reading letters and papers from</l>
					<l>home and in breathless watching for telegrams etc.</l>
					<l>but it is idle to try and record occupations or emotions</l>
					<l>like these. Thursday June 16<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>We had nothing</l>
					<l>but neighbourhood visits today, and in fact every thing</l>
					<l>looks like a thorough breaking-up of city life. Miss</l>
					<l>Arbesser made a long evening with us - They are</l>
					<l>to leave early in the week. She gives us so much</l>
					<l>information about court-life that it really begins to</l>
					<l>seem very natural. The little princess sent me</l>
					<l>some queries with a request that they should be</l>
					<l>transmitted to Miss Sewell of whose books she</l>
					<l>is a passionate admirer. The questions are naive</l>
					<l>and charming <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>in the highest degree</hi>. Prince Amedeo</l>
					<l>graces the ball at the Valentino this evening,</l>
					<l>and I was rather pleased to learn with what</l>
					<l>rapidity his royal highness made his toilette</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='39'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>for the occasion. He was sitting in a cherry-tree,</l>
					<l>in the garden of the palace, which he had climbed</l>
					<l>to get some cherries for his cousins of Genoa,</l>
					<l>when his valet informed him that it wanted</l>
					<l>but ten minutes of the time when his carriage</l>
					<l>had been ordered for the ball. The Prince</l>
					<l>jumped down from the tree, sprung to his chamber</l>
					<l>and in the ten minutes afterwards descended the</l>
					<l>great staircase and entered his carriage <hi rend='underlined:true;'>en grande</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>toilette</hi>.</l>
					<l>Friday June 17<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Mr Castillia brought Miss</l>
					<l>Jane Sedgwick to us this morning on her way</l>
					<l>over Mont Cenis America-ward. She was very</l>
					<l>tired and we tried to stay her with flagons and</l>
					<l>comfort me [her?] with apples. Poor thing! If she bears</l>
					<l>the journey from Genoa so badly I don&apos;t see how</l>
					<l>she is ever to get to Paris - After dinner we drove</l>
					<l>out with her to show her the few lions we have,</l>
					<l>and were fortunate enough to meet the Duchess</l>
					<l>and her daughter, Prince Amadeo driving his</l>
					<l>own establishment, and all the little remnant</l>
					<l>of haute société still left in town. The</l>
					<l>mountains didn&apos;t look their best but were</l>
					<l>respectable, and altogether I think Turin</l>
					<l>made a favourable impression on our new</l>
					<l>acquaintance. I was bid to be prepared</l>
					<l>to find her very odd, but we all decided</l>
					<l>that she was less so than the one from whom</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='40'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>we received the hint. Mr Castillia devoted</l>
					<l>himself entirely to her, Mr Valerio came in to</l>
					<l>say a goodbye, Alexander managed to get her</l>
					<l>ticket changed so that she can stop more</l>
					<l>frequently than is usual if she likes, we made</l>
					<l>her up a little package of eatables with a tiny</l>
					<l>flask of wine, and I hope she may get over</l>
					<l>the mountain without being ill, though I</l>
					<l>feel very anxious about it. During the course</l>
					<l>of the afternoon Madame Solvyns and her</l>
					<l>mother were an hour with us. They give</l>
					<l>very bad accounts of Madame Rothan&apos;s health</l>
					<l>which quite distressed me. Such women as she</l>
					<l>are greatly wanted now.</l>
					<l>Saturday 18<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The Marchesa Arconati came</l>
					<l>to bid me goodbye before going to the sea shore. She</l>
					<l>had been out to their <hi rend='underlined:true;'>podere</hi> near the Zicino, &amp;</l>
					<l>returned much depressed at the prospect of the</l>
					<l>silk. The Marchese had taken much pains to</l>
					<l>get the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>semenza</hi>, as they call it, from Walacchia,</l>
					<l>sending thither a most trustworthy person to</l>
					<l>watch the progress of the worms from their first</l>
					<l>appearance on the butterfly-state selecting only</l>
					<l>the eggs of such as had appeared perfectly vigorous</l>
					<l>from beginning to end. This semenza he had</l>
					<l>divided up among friends in Lombardy,</l>
					<l>Piedmont and Tuscany. In about half the cases</l>
					<l>the worms have done well - the remainder have</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='41'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>failed entirely. This would seem to fix the disease</l>
					<l>on the trees or in local atmospheric influences; another</l>
					<l>fact however looks quite in a contrary direction.</l>
					<l>All the semenza brought from Japan where-</l>
					<l>-ever distributed has succeeded perfectly. The</l>
					<l>Marchesa tells me that Lombardy will be</l>
					<l>ruined if this continues much longer. All those</l>
					<l>portions of it not capable of irrigation, and known</l>
					<l>as the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>terre asciutte</hi> are now grown over with</l>
					<l>mulberries and thus far it has been found im-</l>
					<l>-possible to turn them to any other account.</l>
					<l>Indian corn, she says, yields in those districts</l>
					<l>only six-fold which of course does not pay for</l>
					<l>cultivation. She says that already great distress</l>
					<l>prevails even among proprietors on account of the</l>
					<l>failure of the silk crop, and that the prospects</l>
					<l>of the poor are still worse. The Baroness Todros</l>
					<l>brought us very sad news - the death of poor</l>
					<l>Pauline Benedetti. Her parents are said to be</l>
					<l>utterly overwhelmed, and I can believe it well,</l>
					<l>for there were never more fond and devoted</l>
					<l>parents</l>
					<l>Sunday June 19<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>After we returned from church</l>
					<l>the Countess Gigliucci made me a long visit -</l>
					<l>as usual full of lively anecdote and overflowing</l>
					<l>with practical wisdom and quaint humour</l>
					<l>She told me a droll story of one Tommy Wills&apos;s</l>
					<l>book on Italy. The weather is getting really</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='42'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>summer-like at last, and one can luxuriate</l>
					<l>in cold water and thin dresses.</l>
					<l>Monday June 20<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Nothing of special interest to record</l>
					<l>for today. Col. Mayhew paid us a long visit but</l>
					<l>otherwise we had no interruptions from our</l>
					<l>usual occupations. I smuggled Carrie into a close</l>
					<l>carriage to leave cards in my name for the</l>
					<l>Osten Sachens. Brother Charles writes from Bologna</l>
					<l>that he goes on to Venice. The Gajanis spent the</l>
					<l>evening with us, and are cheerful about home</l>
					<l>affairs in spite of telegrams which they disbelieve.</l>
					<l>Mrs Gajani brought me from Miss Haines</l>
					<l>a photograph of Mrs Kirkland taken the day</l>
					<l>before her death, and, strange to say, asserted</l>
					<l>to be the only one ever taken of her -</l>
					<l>Tuesday June 21<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi></l>
					<l>C. went to Miss Arbesser this</l>
					<l>evening where she had a very pleasant time, saw</l>
					<l>the dear little princess and her dog again, and</l>
					<l>received from the little royal highness the offer</l>
					<l>of some of her books to read, which was accepted</l>
					<l>of course - Miss A__. came back with Carrie at</l>
					<l>half past nine and staid with us till eleven.</l>
					<l>It is quite touching to listen to her talk about</l>
					<l>her royal pupil. No mother could be fonder. As</l>
					<l>I listened to the child&apos;s praises I could not</l>
					<l>help thinking of the sad fate that had befallen</l>
					<l>so many innocent young creatures in her position.</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='43'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>We had been reading only today the letter, recently</l>
					<l>published for the first time, of the poor dying</l>
					<l>Queen Caroline Matilda of Denmark to her</l>
					<l>brother in England. Alas, who can feel anything</l>
					<l>but pity for a royal child of the weaker sex - es-</l>
					<l>-pecially if, like our sweet princess, her religion</l>
					<l>necessarily excludes her from a marriage with</l>
					<l>a Protestant prince. It would be some comfort</l>
					<l>if she could become the wife of a son of Prince</l>
					<l>Albert - but I suppose she must fall into the</l>
					<l>hands of some German brute or Spanish zealot.</l>
					<l>Miss A__. told some curious stories about the</l>
					<l>practice of Dr Weber in two or three of the convents</l>
					<l>in and near Turin. The doctor declares that</l>
					<l>they are in extreme poverty and misery as a</l>
					<l>general rule, and he has himself, with the consent</l>
					<l>of the King raised money enough by a subscription</l>
					<l>to furnish one of them with some fireplaces or</l>
					<l>stoves. He declares that during the whole of the </l>
					<l>last terrible winter the poor nuns of the</l>
					<l>Sacramenti had never once a fire by which</l>
					<l>to warm themselves even for an hour, that in</l>
					<l>consequence of this and their self-imposed penances</l>
					<l>their health had suffered frightfully. They seem to</l>
					<l>be very grateful to this protestant doctor, and</l>
					<l>three weekly services are held for the express</l>
					<l>purpose of bringing about his conversion. A</l>
					<l>well-known countess here has written him a</l>
					<l>letter to express her admiration of the services</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='44'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>he has rendered to these poor daughters of the true</l>
					<l>church, and by way of testifying her interest in</l>
					<l>his own conversion she proposes to give him</l>
					<l>her niece for a wife as the surest way of bringing</l>
					<l>about an event so desirable. She is willing to</l>
					<l>risk, it appears, the safety of the soul of her niece</l>
					<l>for the chance of saving that of the amiable heretic.</l>
					<l>A capucino too is also labouring for the same good</l>
					<l>end, and when Miss A__. asked the Dr how the</l>
					<l>conversion was progressing, he answered: &quot; admirably</l>
					<l>admirably - I shall have the good father over in</l>
					<l>about fourteen days.&quot;</l>
					<l>Wednesday June 22<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi></l>
					<l>The Count and Countess Castiglione,</l>
					<l>the happy couple just from America came, bringing</l>
					<l>letters from Mrs M. O. Paine. I was really glad to</l>
					<l>find that the new Castiglione is a niece of my old</l>
					<l>friend. May the match turn out happier than most</l>
					<l>such do. The lady is rather pretty - decidedly New York</l>
					<l>in her manners, and her husband has contracted</l>
					<l>during his eighteen months stay in America an</l>
					<l>unmistakable New World air. Gossip says that</l>
					<l>his father who was half mad and half wicked mal-</l>
					<l>-treated his Genevan wife to such an extent that</l>
					<l>the King interfered - (Carlo Alberto, of course) - took</l>
					<l>her away from him and put the daughter, the</l>
					<l>present Countess della Rocca into a convent that</l>
					<l>she might be in better keeping than either of her</l>
					<l>parents were likely to afford her. The old lady</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='45'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>is still living - a Protestant by education, Catholic</l>
					<l>from a matrimonial conversion. The Gigliuccis</l>
					<l>came after dinner to take Carrie to walk and</l>
					<l>the Monnets spent the evening with us. Madame</l>
					<l>Monnet and I had a long discussion on the</l>
					<l>subject of Cocquerel fils. It is next to impossible</l>
					<l>for an American to look at things from a</l>
					<l>European point of view. Madame Monnet is</l>
					<l>kindled with indignation because the majority</l>
					<l>of French Protestants have declared that the</l>
					<l>doctrines held by Cocquerel were, in their opinion,</l>
					<l>untrue and perilous, and she thinks him the most</l>
					<l>persecuted of men. But, I said, what would you</l>
					<l>have these clergymen do? - aid Mr Cocquerel in</l>
					<l>his promulgation of doctrines regarded by them</l>
					<l>in this light? Certainly that could not be asked</l>
					<l>of them. Why doesn&apos;t Mr Cocquerel if they refuse</l>
					<l>to fellowship him, apply to the government for</l>
					<l>permission to preach on his own account. Surely</l>
					<l>his followers are numerous enough to support him</l>
					<l>handsomely, and he no doubt would soon have a</l>
					<l>more flourishing congregation than ever before.</l>
					<l>&quot;But this would be driving him into scism - he</l>
					<l>doesn&apos;t want to be a scismatic.&quot; I looked at</l>
					<l>Madame to see if she was in earnest. There was</l>
					<l>no doubt of it. Mr Cocquerel then I said, wishes</l>
					<l>to force the majority of French Protestant to retain</l>
					<l>him in their communion while he continues to</l>
					<l>preach doctrines held by them to be most</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='46'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>heretical, because he is not willing to leave them</l>
					<l>and assume the odium of being a scismatic!</l>
					<l>For my part I thought this was decidedly a case in</l>
					<l>which he wanted to be the persecutor. If a man</l>
					<l>knew that he held opinions so contrary to the</l>
					<l>great body of Christians with whom he was connected</l>
					<l>he certainly had no right to insist on staying among</l>
					<l>them if they didn&apos;t want him. Madame Monnet</l>
					<l>then admitted that there were certain loaves and</l>
					<l>fishes in the question. &apos;Mr Cocquerel, as well as</l>
					<l>his father, has done much to build up Protestantism</l>
					<l>in France, to aid in the erection of churches, hospitals,</l>
					<l>schools, and was it fair to deprive him of all interest</l>
					<l>in these?&apos; I asked if the friends of Mr C__. expected</l>
					<l>the French Protestants to enter into a calculation of</l>
					<l>the value of the services rendered by this dis-</l>
					<l>-tinguished family and to make pecuniary resti-</l>
					<l>-tution accordingly? She admitted it might be dif-</l>
					<l>-ficult, but still thought common justice required</l>
					<l>that they should not have laboured in vain.</l>
					<l>Here we dropped the discussion.</l>
					<l>Thursday June 28<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Tecco, Barone e Senatore, came to</l>
					<l>thank Mr Marsh for his new book. As usual he was</l>
					<l>very strong in his expresssions of disapprobation of the course</l>
					<l>of the Italian government towards the French - declares</l>
					<l>that Italy is now a mere province of France, and an</l>
					<l>oppressed province at that. The newspapers are interesting</l>
					<l>now from their lively discussions about the naval</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='47'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>fight between the Kearsarge and the Alabama, and their</l>
					<l>speculations about the conference at London now so likely</l>
					<l>to prove a failure. The English journals bluster mightily</l>
					<l>again, but nobody who knows the England of today, sup-</l>
					<l>-poses she is any more likely to fight on that account.</l>
					<l>Friday June 24<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The Gajanis brought General and</l>
					<l>Madame Cerotti to pass the evening with us - nice</l>
					<l>people both. The General being particularly intelligent</l>
					<l>in his conversation, and agreeable in his manners.</l>
					<l>Saturday June 25<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>We had no visitors today - the weather</l>
					<l>is rather warm now for much running about. We</l>
					<l>talked a little about an excursion to the mountains</l>
					<l>the latter part of next week, but I think we shall</l>
					<l>hardly make it out. Mr Marsh read me Thoreau&apos;s</l>
					<l>description of the autumnal tints of New England trees -</l>
					<l>very fanciful, and exquisitely poetic in the main, though</l>
					<l>now and then he rather pushes matters to extremities.</l>
					<l>Sunday June 26<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>.</l>
					<l>&apos;Grant has passed the James River&apos;</l>
					<l>says the telegram this morning, and we know no</l>
					<l>more, whether with or without fighting. At any rate</l>
					<l>I should think Richmond must feel a little <hi rend='underlined:true;'>gêné</hi></l>
					<l>just now. Mr R. J. Walker called about five</l>
					<l>o&apos;clock, says they shall be in Turin only through tomorrow.</l>
					<l>He talks hopefully of our national prospects. I wish</l>
					<l>he had never done anything to mar them. <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>After</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>he left us.</hi> Before Mr Walker came the Conellis</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='48'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>had been in to say goodbye before going to their</l>
					<l>villa on Maggiore - After tea Mr Marsh and</l>
					<l>Carrie went over to the Hotel to ask the</l>
					<l>Walkers to come and dine with us tomorrow,</l>
					<l>but they felt themselves too tired. In the meantime</l>
					<l>Miss Arbesser was with me till after nine o&apos;clock.</l>
					<l>She told me a little state secret, and let slip another</l>
					<l>accidentally at the same moment. Our Prince Umberto</l>
					<l>is to marry</l>
					<l>the</l>
					<l>young princess Leopoldine of Brazil,</l>
					<l>and certain parties desire a marriage between the</l>
					<l>princess Marguerite and Prince Amadeo - the</l>
					<l>latter arrangement being one likely to suit the young</l>
					<l>people themselves, which is saying much in its favour.</l>
					<l>The Duchess leaves for d&apos;Agilé and prince Thomas&apos;</l>
					<l>Castle tomorrow with her household.</l>
					<l>Monday June 27.</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh spent the morning lionizing</l>
					<l>with the Walkers, after which they all returned</l>
					<l>here. I found eighteen years had told heavily on</l>
					<l>Mrs Walker, and I suppose her observations upon me</l>
					<l>after our long separation were very similar. Still she</l>
					<l>is the same sincere, consciencious, and high-minded</l>
					<l>woman that I used to admire in Washington.</l>
					<l>Mr Walker, who used to look much older than</l>
					<l>his wife, has allowed her to overtake him. He is,</l>
					<l>as he always was, quiet in manner, but travels</l>
					<l>just as he used to live, as if he had the inexhaustible</l>
					<l>purse children wot of; This I suppose he does now</l>
					<l>on a more substantial capital than formerly</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='49'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>though I fancy it is difficult to know much about</l>
					<l>the real state of the finances of this distinguished</l>
					<l>financier. While the Walkers were with us, a</l>
					<l>Mr Brooks of Boston was brought in by Mr Artoni.</l>
					<l>This gentleman I judge to be rather of the copperhead</l>
					<l>species, though he talked patriotism moderately.</l>
					<l>He unluckily however made a profession of faith</l>
					<l>in General M<hi rend='superscript:true;'>c</hi>Clellan, from which Mr Marsh</l>
					<l>declared himself a dissenter in very unmistakable</l>
					<l>terms. Mr Brooks did me the honour to inquire</l>
					<l>my nationality, and expressed much surprise</l>
					<l>when I told him that I was from Massachusetts</l>
					<l>like himself. I don&apos;t know whether he intended this as</l>
					<l>a mode of flattery, or whether he really supposed Mr</l>
					<l>Marsh had picked up some wandering gypsy this</l>
					<l>side. Just after our visitors left Mrs Tottenham</l>
					<l>came and took Carrie to Villa Fracchia for the</l>
					<l>evening.</l>
					<l>Tuesday 28</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh went to the Hotel this</l>
					<l>morning to enquire for Mr Brooks, found he had</l>
					<l>gone with a large party of Americans, arrived last</l>
					<l>evening, but that Mr Walker had been taken ill</l>
					<l>and his party consequently detained. He also</l>
					<l>found Mr Thomas Potter, the President of the</l>
					<l>Union and Emancipation Society, and brother of</l>
					<l>our own acquaintance Sir John Potter, at the</l>
					<l>hotel with his family. A little later Mr and Mrs</l>
					<l>Potter came to pay us a visit. Mr Potter is a</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='50'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>frank manly Englishman, a warm friend of our</l>
					<l>country, and a thorough democrat in the best sense</l>
					<l>of the word. His avowed political object, so far as</l>
					<l>his own country is concerned is, first of all, the</l>
					<l>abolishment of the primo-geniture laws, and the</l>
					<l>consequent humbling of the aristocracy which he</l>
					<l>declares has thrown itself obstinately across the track</l>
					<l>that leads to everything like real progress. Mrs</l>
					<l>Potter, I should rather have taken for an American</l>
					<l>than an Englishwoman. She has Richard Cobden&apos;s</l>
					<l>second daughter, Nellie, with her.</l>
					<l>Wednesday 29<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>I received Madame Gigliucci</l>
					<l>in bed, - also <unclear>Portia</unclear> who has just returned from</l>
					<l>England. They leave for St Didier tomorrow.</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh did not feel well after returning from</l>
					<l>a visit to Mr Walker, who is but little better, so</l>
					<l>Carrie was obliged to go to the Gigliuccis to spend </l>
					<l>the evening without he[r] uncle. While at the</l>
					<l>hotel Mr Marsh had another long talk with Mr</l>
					<l>Potter. The latter had been much amazed to</l>
					<l>learn from Massari, a prominent member of</l>
					<l>Parliament here, that there was a party, Massari</l>
					<l>himself being one of its leaders, which proposed to</l>
					<l>introduce into Italy precisely the English aristocratic</l>
					<l>organization - inferring that since England was</l>
					<l>so prosperous materially it must be owing to</l>
					<l>her aristocracy!! Poor Mr Potter is of course</l>
					<l>confounded and is labouring with no small zeal</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='51'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>to disabuse these short-sighted statesmen</l>
					<l>Thursday June 30<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Being obliged to keep my bed</l>
					<l>myself, we are unable to do anything for the</l>
					<l>Potters. As to the Walkers of course there is</l>
					<l>nothing to be done but to wait for his recovery.</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh found him today very little, if at all,</l>
					<l>better. Friday July 1<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi></l>
					<l>I had supposed all visiting</l>
					<l>would be over before this time but the cards came in</l>
					<l>to-day like winter-snows - and I not up. Mr Walker</l>
					<l>better. Checcattelli, the Roman, came to see us with the</l>
					<l>Gajanis this evening. Mr Walker better.</l>
					<l>Sat. July 2<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi></l>
					<l>Dined at the family-table to-day</l>
					<l>and hope to be well enough for an excursion on Monday.</l>
					<l>The new minister from Baden made his first visit</l>
					<l>&amp; promises well socially - but oh the narrowness</l>
					<l>&amp; selfishness of the ruling classes every where!</l>
					<l>Sunday 3<hi rend='superscript:true;'>rd</hi> July.</l>
					<l>This morning C. did not come</l>
					<l>out to breakfast &amp; Giacchino found her suffering from</l>
					<l>a billious attack that may put a stop to our scheme</l>
					<l>for to-morrow. The Countess</l>
					<l>Castellani</l>
					<l>brought her</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>Inez</hi> to say <hi rend='underlined:true;'>good</hi> <hi rend='underlined:true;'>bye</hi> before going into the country.</l>
					<l>C. could not see her of course.</l>
					<l>Monday July 4<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>,</l>
					<l>The doctor came to see Carrie last evening,</l>
					<l>left some remedies which did not answer the purpose and</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='52'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>she was very ill all night. A cup of black tea put her to</l>
					<l>sleep (strange to say) at four this morning, and the doctor</l>
					<l>says she will be able to leave tomorrow.</l>
					<l>July 5<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> Tuesday.</l>
					<l>We conclude to go today in order not to disap-</l>
					<l>-point brother Charles, though Carrie is rather weak and knocked</l>
					<l>up. _ _ _ _</l>
					<l>_ _ _ _ _</l>
					<l>(see note-book from July 5<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> to July 25<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>)</l>
					<l>July 26<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> Tuesday.</l>
					<l>We got home at half past nine last evening, found</l>
					<l>all right and sent Gaetano immediately to the palace to find</l>
					<l>Miss Arbesser if he could. After making an uproar about the</l>
					<l>royal</l>
					<l>premises worthy of Majesty itself, our <hi rend='underlined:true;'>bould</hi> footman ascertained</l>
					<l>that the young lady had gone to bed! I was glad enough to</l>
					<l>do the same myself, and only the fear that Miss Arbesser</l>
					<l>would be much disappointed had made us send to her.</l>
					<l><hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>July 27</hi></l>
					<l>Before we had finished breakfast Mr Wheeler</l>
					<l>was ushered in, and from this time till half past ten P.M.</l>
					<l>there was a continuous stream of visits, social and business. First</l>
					<l>Mr Artoni and Mr Wheeler were to be furnished forth for an</l>
					<l>excursion to the Lys glacier, then a stray U. S. Consul, who finds</l>
					<l>himself in Turin with a wife and moneyless, has to be sup-</l>
					<l>-plied with funds - our neighbors drop in to welcome us - a</l>
					<l>three weeks accumulation of letters and papers are crying out</l>
					<l>at us, and just as we think we can sit down to them for</l>
					<l>a moment after dinner Miss Arbessr is announced, - she</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='53'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>having decided to risk another day&apos;s stay at Turin. Then</l>
					<l>come Count Gigliucci and daughters, and at half past ten</l>
					<l>we go to bed more tired than with a day of glacier-travel.</l>
					<l>July 27</l>
					<l>A quieter day, but we still have abundant proofs</l>
					<l>that all the world isn&apos;t in the country. Good Mrs Totten-</l>
					<l>-ham could not help a very amusing exhibition of her Irish</l>
					<l>humour while giving us some account of her guest, Mrs</l>
					<l>Stanley whom she had invited to her house for two days,</l>
					<l>but who had announced to the servants her intention of</l>
					<l>staying six weeks. Mrs T__. has given up</l>
					<l>to her guest</l>
					<l>the large dressing-</l>
					<l>-room adjoining her own chamber, and the contest between</l>
					<l>its occupant and her hostess for the possession of certain drawers</l>
					<l>is very comically described by the latter. By degrees Mrs S__.</l>
					<l>has most gracefully turned out of the room every article</l>
					<l>belonging to Mrs Tottenham. She takes at one time a</l>
					<l>portfolio of drawings, at another time a work-box, at another</l>
					<l>a writing desk, gives it into little Madeline&apos;s hands, and</l>
					<l>says with the most charming politeness: &quot;Here dear, take</l>
					<l>this to your Mamma, perhaps she may want it&quot; - and</l>
					<l>so by degrees the visitor has developed, until the only space</l>
					<l>left for further expansion, is two drawers where Mrs Tottenham</l>
					<l>still holds out, because, as she says, the longer she retains these</l>
					<l>the longer she shall be able to hold her ground against</l>
					<l>assault in other parts of the house - these being sure to be</l>
					<l>attacked as soon as everything is surrendered in this first</l>
					<l>room. Carrie passed the evening with the Gigliuccis</l>
					<l>Thursday 28.</l>
					<l>The Gigliucci in their turn came to us this evening,</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='54'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>and we said a regretful goodbye till November.</l>
					<l>Friday 29</l>
					<l>Our pile of work melts away by degrees and</l>
					<l>we are beginning to subside into the old calm - or rather</l>
					<l>should be if preparations were not making for another</l>
					<l>excursion - but this time I intend to be left behind.</l>
					<l>Saturday July 30<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Mr Clay dined with us today, and told</l>
					<l>us something of the pleasures and the pains of his two months</l>
					<l>absence. He gave a more particular account than I have</l>
					<l>before seen of the disgraceful system of espionage practiced</l>
					<l>upon Garibaldi during his late visit to Ischia - far worthier</l>
					<l>the government of Bomba than that of the Re Galantuomo.</l>
					<l>The Gajani were with us to tea.</l>
					<l>Sunday July 31<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi></l>
					<l>Mr Wheeler and Mr Artoni came in</l>
					<l>to report their return, and to tell us how much they had</l>
					<l>been delighted. Mr Artoni was more enthusiastic than I</l>
					<l>have ever seen him before. With this and other interruptions,</l>
					<l>letters to be written &amp;c. &amp;c. our Sunday was no Sunday. The</l>
					<l>heat is very oppressive, though the thermometer does not get</l>
					<l>above 87 Fahr. A letter from Miss Arbesser tells me that</l>
					<l>H.R.H. expects that I will ask to be allowed to pay her a</l>
					<l>visit when I come to Baveno again, and intimates that</l>
					<l>my shirking of last winter has not been unnoticed. Well,</l>
					<l>this involves a new dress and accompaniments, and</l>
					<l>the trouble of taking luggage and servant to Baveno. If I</l>
					<l>were well and could go to see her with the rest of the</l>
					<l>Diplomatic ladies on all ceremonial occasions etc. the</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='55'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Duchess would consider me a bore. As it is, her curiosity</l>
					<l>is piqued, she would like to know whether I am ill or</l>
					<l>indifferent, and so she really wishes me to come to her.</l>
					<l>Monday <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>July 1</hi><hi rend='strikethrough:true; superscript:true;'>st</hi> August 1<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi></l>
					<l>How very odd! Just</l>
					<l>as I am vexing myself how to get without too much trouble</l>
					<l>a dress in which to pay my homage to the Duchess, a</l>
					<l>note comes in from the Baronne de Gautier to say that</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>une robe très élégante</hi> has just been offered to her which</l>
					<l>she should certainly take but for her continual ill-health;</l>
					<l>that it is very reasonable etc. I was too busy at the</l>
					<l>moment to attend to it as husband and Charles are</l>
					<l>preparing their bags for Monte Viso, but shall send for the</l>
					<l>dress later. At twelve they left us, and Carrie and I</l>
					<l>settled down afterward as quietly as we could -</l>
					<l>Tuesday Aug. 2<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi>.</l>
					<l>The dress has come - is really beautiful,</l>
					<l>and will save me an immense deal of trouble. A</l>
					<l>brisk</l>
					<l><hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>sharp</hi> correspondence however has been going on between</l>
					<l>Turin and Pino ever since yesterday morning to come</l>
					<l>to an understanding, and we are all right now I</l>
					<l>believe. Carrie and I read, write, draw, etc and the hours</l>
					<l>roll away quite fast enough. The news from America</l>
					<l>has cheered us not a little. Atlanta taken and Grant&apos;s</l>
					<l>prospects good. Even the Saturday Review is decent</l>
					<l>this week notwithstanding the rebel raid. We had</l>
					<l>a good Italian lesson in a long talk with Mr Artoni</l>
					<l>after tea, and later, my paragon, the Baroness, came</l>
					<l>to talk over the dress, and the visit she so kindly</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='56'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>urges us to make her at Pino. It is so sad to see this</l>
					<l>marvellously gifted woman broken down by sorrow and</l>
					<l>pain. Wednesday Aug. 3<hi rend='superscript:true;'>rd</hi></l>
					<l>A little shopping and a visit from</l>
					<l>the Monnets in the evening were our only interruptions today.</l>
					<l>We read from Dante, Haunted Hearts, etc, wrote some letters,</l>
					<l>and lounged through the hottest parts of the day. A base</l>
					<l>article in the Opinione, on American affairs vexed my soul</l>
					<l>for a few minutes. It is mortifying to a lover of Italy,</l>
					<l>to see how her press has become the tool of France.</l>
					<l>Thursday August 4<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Letter from Miss Arbesser</l>
					<l>to say that H.R.H. proposes to her a ten days rest after the</l>
					<l>18<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>, and expressing a wish to join us in a mountain</l>
					<l>excursion. - Should be glad to gratify her but am afraid we</l>
					<l>can&apos;t manage it. Good news continues to come in</l>
					<l>from America. The Daily News is jubilant - our enemies</l>
					<l>disappointed and spiteful.</l>
					<l>Sept. 6<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>More than a month since my last</l>
					<l>date here - and a month so hurried, and in many</l>
					<l>respects so trying. On the 8<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> of Aug. we left for an excursion</l>
					<l>with brother Charles up the Val d&apos;Aosta as far as Courmayer,</l>
					<l>did all manner of impossible things there, met the Matteuccis</l>
					<l>came down to Aosta on the 16<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> - met the Pasolinis there,</l>
					<l>the Matteuccis again, said good-bye to brother Charles on the morning</l>
					<l>of the <unclear>17<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></unclear> (he going over the Great St Bernard on his homeward way)</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='57'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>waited a whole day at Aosta for a carriage, came down to Turin on the</l>
					<l>18<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>, made preparations</l>
					<l>on the 19<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>for another excursion, received Mrs Valerio on the</l>
					<l>20<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi>. On the 21<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi> I was scarcely able to leave my bed, on the 22<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi> C.</l>
					<l>&amp; I were both ill from a billious attack having passed a sleepless night.</l>
					<l>But we were pledged to Mrs Valerio &amp; Miss Arbesser to get off to-day.</l>
					<l>I managed to get up before noon &amp; set about my part of the</l>
					<l>packing. The Countess Castellani came before I had half finished,</l>
					<l>the Pasolini two minutes after she left, &amp; I found myself</l>
					<l>within 2 hours of the time of starting faint, flurried &amp; behind hand, &amp;</l>
					<l>C. not yet risen from her bed. She, however thought she</l>
					<l>could go, if G. could pack up every thing for her, and</l>
					<l>the poor child came out at the</l>
					<l>last</l>
					<l>moment, pale &amp; tremulous</l>
					<l>but resolute. In short we got off in spite of difficulties</l>
					<l>arrived at Arona at midnight, left the next morning at 5</l>
					<l>took up Miss Arbesser at Stresa, breakfasted at Baveno</l>
					<l>where the Collegno met us, also the Countess Bernezza</l>
					<l>drove on to Domodossola partly through rain, took a</l>
					<l>déjeune à la fourchette there &amp; went on to Isella to</l>
					<l>sleep. We had a splendid drive from Domo to Isella</l>
					<l>every thing new to the two ladies though so familiar to</l>
					<l>to [sic] us. Early in the morning we drove up nearly</l>
					<l>to the summit of the Simplon pass - wind bitterly cold</l>
					<l>but views as fine as conceivable, returned to Isella</l>
					<l>to breakfast - to Domo - to dinner &amp; sleep. Thursday noon</l>
					<l>the 25<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> we set off early for Premia &amp; after breakfasting</l>
					<l>there Mr M. took Mrs V. &amp; Miss A. on a mule trip</l>
					<l>up the V. Formazza, C. &amp; I remaining behind to rest for</l>
					<l>the morning. The ladies did not promise brilliantly,</l>
					<l>still it was thought they might be got up the Alp Devero</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='58'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>and accordingly the next day we made as early a start as we</l>
					<l>could. It proved a most enchanting excursion as far as the scenery</l>
					<l>goes, but our traveling companions found it very formidable.</l>
					<l>Between fatigue &amp; fear they nearly gave out, &amp; I must confess</l>
					<l>the giddy heights were enough to make the inexperienced quail.</l>
					<l>We rested a couple of hours in a poor châlet on the summit,</l>
					<l>(the rich Alberto Emanuele having refused us entrance into his</l>
					<l>palazzo and <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>bidding</hi></l>
					<l>bidden</l>
					<l>us</l>
					<l>go</l>
					<l>to a very undesirable place instead) and then</l>
					<l>began the steep descent in a light rain which fortunately was</l>
					<l>soon over. It snowed while</l>
					<l>we</l>
					<l>were on the top of the Alp.</l>
					<l>Our guides gave us some account of this same Alberto Emanuele</l>
					<l>&quot;uomo senza Dio, lunatico etc.&quot; One wife he had murdered,</l>
					<l>accidentally he made his judges believe, a second had been found</l>
					<l>dead in her bed, and yet he had been able to induce a third</l>
					<l>woman to trust herself to his BlueBeard ship. We had a light</l>
					<l>drizzling rain for the first half hour of the descent and the mists</l>
					<l>interfered a good deal with the view into the valley, still it was</l>
					<l>wonderful. The ladies were too timid to ride and not strong enough to</l>
					<l>walk and we made but slow progress. After we reached the level of the</l>
					<l>stream Carrie bounded on before to order the dinner - indeed she had</l>
					<l>nearly doubled the distance all the way by running after flowers,</l>
					<l>chasing the poor little dog that attended us, to deck him with</l>
					<l>garlands which he didn&apos;t at all appreciate etc. It was almost</l>
					<l>dark when we reached the door of our inn at Premia, the ma-</l>
					<l>-jority sadly tired, but all delighted with what we had seen.</l>
					<l>An hour or something less perhaps after striking into the Val Devero</l>
					<l>we came upon a most beautiful waterfall, extremely like what</l>
					<l>we have christened the Lace waterfall near Isella. It is higher</l>
					<l>and the quantity of water greater than this latter, and at its</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='59'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>head we were told stood the village of Agora, quite</l>
					<l>invisible from below, and accessible only to goats or</l>
					<l>mountaineers on foot. The lower half of that waterfall</l>
					<l>seemed composed of countless little gothic cathedrals,</l>
					<l>inverted, and dropping not very rapidly, but in uninter-</l>
					<l>-rupted succession into the basin below. We talked over</l>
					<l>this and all the wonderful things we had seen, the good-</l>
					<l>-natured hospitality of the poor châlet where we had rested,</l>
					<l>the brutality of the Dives etc. and went to bed as early as we</l>
					<l>could, in anticipation of a five o&apos;clock start next morning.</l>
					<l>And we were literally in the carriage and off precisely at five,</l>
					<l>breakfasted and changed clothes in dire precipitation at</l>
					<l>Domo d&apos;Ossola, and drove furiously down to Baveno ex-</l>
					<l>-pecting to miss the steamer which we did not. The</l>
					<l>Collegnos went up with us to Luino, there we took a carriage</l>
					<l>and were in Lugano at dinner-time. Sunday, having found</l>
					<l>that Monte Generoso could be done in one day, we telegraphed</l>
					<l>to the Countess that we would wait till Wednesday, in which</l>
					<l>case she had promised to join us. This done we went to see</l>
					<l>Luini&apos;s great picture having first found that we could not</l>
					<l>get into to the overflowing English-chapel. The remainder of</l>
					<l>the day we rested, seeing no one but the Clarks. The two</l>
					<l>ladies came very near a collision today, but fortunately no</l>
					<l>mischief was done. It certainly required very skillful en-</l>
					<l>-gineering during the whole trip. Monday morning we</l>
					<l>took a long drive around the Monte Salvatore - Tuesday</l>
					<l>morning Mr Marsh and Carrie <hi rend='underlined:true;'>did</hi> the mountain proper in</l>
					<l>some incredibly short space of time, and came back neither</l>
					<l>tired nor sorry. At noon the Countess Collegno and Margherita</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='60'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>arrived accompanied by the Marquis Arconati, and</l>
					<l>Alessandro, dei Conti Trotti, to give him his title. All</l>
					<l>were in the best spirits, the old Marquis gay as a boy.</l>
					<l>I could not help thinking as I looked <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>thim</hi> at him</l>
					<l>and watched the lively dancing of his eye, of his famous</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>bon mot</hi>. He was among those patriots condemned</l>
					<l>to death in 1821, but having escaped he was travelling</l>
					<l>with his wife in a good deal of style in some part of</l>
					<l>Switzerland or France, when he happened to stop at a</l>
					<l>hotel which was already honoured by the presence</l>
					<l>of Prince Metternich. The latter noticed the splendid</l>
					<l>carriage of the Marquis when it drove up and enquired</l>
					<l>to whom it belonged. The host told the Marquis Arconati</l>
					<l>that the Prince had made the enquiry. &quot;Dites-lui&quot; said the</l>
					<l>Marquis, &quot;que c&apos;est le Marquis Arconati qui voyage avec sa</l>
					<l>veuve!&quot; Unfortunately he could only make us a short visit,</l>
					<l>but offered to take Miss Arbesser to Como. She could not</l>
					<l>go, or did not wish to just then. Two hours later, the card</l>
					<l>of the young Marquis Arconati was brought to her, with a</l>
					<l>message that he had gone up the Salvatore. The servant</l>
					<l>brought news of our return just before dinner - we sent for</l>
					<l>him to join our party, and the much-talked-of Giannmartino</l>
					<l>actually presented himself in his fancy knickerbockers, a</l>
					<l>perfect cloud of perfume attending him. In spite of the</l>
					<l>[illegible] carpet-knight air about him, there is un-</l>
					<l>-mistakable genius in the young man, and a vast amount</l>
					<l>of knowledge. On the whole we liked him much.</l>
					<l>At two the next morning those of our party who were</l>
					<l>to <hi rend='underlined:true;'>do</hi> the Generoso were called, and they were off at three</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='61'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>The Countess, Miss Arbesser and I being the drones,</l>
					<l>breakfasted at nine, At eleven Miss A__ left us for</l>
					<l>Balbianello, and the Countess and I had a tête-a-tête for</l>
					<l>the rest of the day. At six all came back well, after pros-</l>
					<l>-perous ascension, we dined merrily, and the next morning</l>
					<l>were on our way to Baveno again. The Collegnos took off</l>
					<l>Carrie to their villa to dine. I should have said that the</l>
					<l>will o&apos; the wisp Marquis met us at Luino. Friday morning</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh went back to Turin, leaving me to wait for the</l>
					<l>Duchess. Towards evening the Balls arrived, young</l>
					<l>Trotti also from Balbianello. Saturday Miss Arbesser</l>
					<l>wrote to say the Duchess would not come as expected</l>
					<l>and I decided to return to Turin the next day. In the</l>
					<l>meantime our friends at the Villa Collegno were un-</l>
					<l>-ceasing in their kind attentions, they were with us every moment</l>
					<l>they could spare, and accompanied us on the boat as far as Stresa</l>
					<l>on our homeward way. The weather was showery, and we ex-</l>
					<l>-pected nothing from the mountains, but we were not more</l>
					<l>than a half hour from Arona before a lady in the compart-</l>
					<l>-ment with us called the attention of her companion to some</l>
					<l>hills on our left. They were glowing as if in a rosy sunset, though</l>
					<l>it was not five o&apos;clock, and the rain-drops were still falling.</l>
					<l>We changed our direction a little soon after, and suddenly</l>
					<l>on our right Monte Rosa loomed up as if sheeted over with</l>
					<l>moonlight. Fresh snow had fallen very low on this majestic</l>
					<l>mountain, and it stood out as if entirely separate from the rest of</l>
					<l>the chain, and many miles nearer to us. The light which</l>
					<l>rested on it was precisely that in which some fifteen years ago</l>
					<l>we first saw the Maratime [Maritime] Alps on our way from Marseilles to</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='62'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>Nice - a sight I can never forget, nor shall I that of Monte</l>
					<l>Rosa on this Sunday afternoon. The clouds too were very</l>
					<l>magnificent, and half an hour before sunset the sky</l>
					<l>cleared perfectly in the West, while the whole Eastern</l>
					<l>heaven was filled with blackness. The lightning flashed,</l>
					<l>the thunder pealed, and a gorgeous rainbow flamed</l>
					<l>out on our right. For the first time in Italy we no-</l>
					<l>-ticed that our fellow-travellers were keenly observant of</l>
					<l>the phenomena that surrounded them. I was so sorry</l>
					<l>that Mr Marsh should miss this opportunity of seeing his</l>
					<l>mountain-idols in such glory. Alex. met us at Novara,</l>
					<l>Mr Marsh at the Turin station, and home looked so cheerful</l>
					<l>and quiet.</l>
					<l>Saturday Sept 17<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>More than ten days have passed since</l>
					<l>our return home &amp; I have not yet overtaken the work that</l>
					<l>has fallen behind - not yet quite fallen in with the old regular</l>
					<l>ways. How well Longfellow has described the crushing</l>
					<l>weight of the something left undone. These ten days have</l>
					<l>passed very quietly - few interruptions from visitors, few</l>
					<l>unexpected calls upon our time, and yet there is <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>so</hi> much</l>
					<l>of our proposed summer&apos;s work not yet overtaken. Home</l>
					<l>newspapers unavoidedly take up a vast deal of time - home</l>
					<l>letters scarcely less, and there are few hours left for reading,</l>
					<l>and alas, how little even of those few can I turn to any</l>
					<l>account, but <hi rend='underlined:true;'>santa pazienza</hi>! This evening at tea-time</l>
					<l>Mr Artoni came in &amp; gave us quite an electric start by telling</l>
					<l>us that the recent rumors about a treaty with France, one</l>
					<l>article of which contain, a stipulation for the withdrawal of the</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='63'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>French troops from Rome at the end of two years, are confirmed</l>
					<l>and more than this that the seat of government is to be at</l>
					<l>once removed to Florence. For nearly four years we have</l>
					<l>been listening to prophecies &amp; promises on this subject till we</l>
					<l>are slow of faith - and even if all is confirmed we shall not</l>
					<l>believe that the French Emperor means any benefit to Italy. Still</l>
					<l>perhaps we should be just enough to suspend our judgment</l>
					<l>till the terms of the treaty are made known.</l>
					<l>Sunday Sept 18<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>Between the news last night &amp; and the confirmation of the</l>
					<l>taking of Atlanta &amp; Fort Morgan this morning we are not likely</l>
					<l>to subside into a calm for some time. It is wonderful how</l>
					<l>quiet this phlegmatic city remains, while all its interests are</l>
					<l>at stake in this way, but there is not even a street-gathering</l>
					<l>or a street-cry.</l>
					<l>Monday Sept 19<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The papers begin to discuss the new</l>
					<l>treaty - its rumored conditions etc. but as nothing will be known</l>
					<l>certainly till the parliament meets on the 4<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi> of Oct. these dis</l>
					<l>cussions can only suppositions. A general suspicion, however,</l>
					<l>appears every where that the emperor intends this to be a</l>
					<l>total &amp; final renunciation of Rome on the part of the king</l>
					<l>of Italy - a renunciation which the Italians say they will</l>
					<l>never never consent too. Mr M. suspects or rather is</l>
					<l>convinced of still more. He is satisfied that the emperor means</l>
					<l>to cast off from the Italian kingdom every thing south of</l>
					<l>Tuscany forging out of it a crown for a Murat or a Bonaparte.</l>
					<l>Tuesday Sept. 20<hi rend='superscript:true;'>th</hi></l>
					<l>The Turinese are getting roused by</l>
					<l>degrees. Exciting brochures are coming out. The journals</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='64'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>hardly dare to advocate the removal of the capital to</l>
					<l>Florence. The Opinione says this morning that the Emperor</l>
					<l>made this removal a condition of the treaty by which he</l>
					<l>promises to leave Rome. This is a view of the case that</l>
					<l>will not be palatable to the anti-French party and</l>
					<l>will be rather damaging to the project. The syndic</l>
					<l>Rora is obstreprous, so is Sclopis. The Monnets were with</l>
					<l>us this evening, and the little doctor is furious. <hi rend='underlined:true;'>&quot;Cet</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>Empereur</hi>,&quot; says he <hi rend='underlined:true;'>&quot;a ses deux grosses bottes sur </hi><hi rend='underlined:true; strikethrough:true;'>l</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>notre Italie, et il veut l&apos;écraser, mais Mon Dieù,</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>il y aura une centaine de poignards prêts à la</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>venger sur sa personne, et un beau matin il se</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>trouvera assassiné. Il èst fou d&apos;exciter tellement</hi></l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>un peuple dejà exaspéré!&quot;</hi> Everybody sees in the</l>
					<l>scheme an implied renunciation of Rome. There was</l>
					<l>the feeblest of demonstrations in the street tonight, - a </l>
					<l>little band crying <hi rend='underlined:true;'>abasso il Ministero</hi>, <hi rend='underlined:true;'>O Roma o morte</hi>,</l>
					<l>but this is a cool people, and will be roused but slowly.</l>
					<l>Wednesday Sept 21<hi rend='superscript:true;'>st</hi></l>
					<l>The Opinione this morning sets up a</l>
					<l>very curious defence of the Ministry in its policy of making</l>
					<l>Florence the capital, says that it was not intended either</l>
					<l>by them or the Emperor as a renunciation of Rome,</l>
					<l>but only done to serve as a pretext for the Emperor to</l>
					<l>make the Catholic party believe it was so intended. Here</l>
					<l>is diplomacy and statesmanship indeed! I could not</l>
					<l>help thinking, when Mr Marsh read me the article,</l>
					<l>a remark of our merry Saxe with regard to publishers,</l>
					<l>amd applying it to all politicians of all nations -</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='65'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>- &quot;oh <hi rend='underlined:true;'>they</hi>&apos;ll all be damned.&quot; Today the municipality</l>
					<l>holds a great meeting which is looked forward to</l>
					<l>with considerable interest. Not only the fortunes of</l>
					<l>the city are at stake, but all our personal friends</l>
					<l>are in a great dilemma. I asked Mrs Tottenham</l>
					<l>yesterday what they should do, and she said they</l>
					<l>had no idea what course they should take, or where</l>
					<l>they should go, if they left - Poor thing! She has undergone</l>
					<l>such a trial of faith and patience with Mrs Stanley that</l>
					<l>she can scarcely think of anything else, even though she</l>
					<l>has so many weightier things to think of. Mrs Stanley&apos;s</l>
					<l>spirit of contradiction reached the extraordinary point</l>
					<l>of declaring to Mr Tottenham that, in spite of his most</l>
					<l>positive assurances to the contrary, his mother&apos;s</l>
					<l>name <hi rend='underlined:true;'>was</hi> Tottenham. &quot;My mother&apos;s name</l>
					<l>was</l>
					<l>Maude -</l>
					<l>She was the sister of Lord __ whom you know very</l>
					<l>well.&quot; &quot;Yes, I know Lord __ very well, but his sister</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>was not</hi> your mother. I have always known that</l>
					<l>your mother <hi rend='strikethrough:true;'>is</hi> was a Tottenham as well as your father&quot;</l>
					<l>This was rather too much even for the equinimity</l>
					<l>of the Reverend gentleman. He flew to his peerage</l>
					<l>book and showed the marriage of Miss Maude with</l>
					<l>his father. &quot;Now, Mrs Stanley, I hope you are convinced&quot;.</l>
					<l>&quot;Mr Tottenham,&quot; said she after a moment&apos;s pause in</l>
					<l>which she had read and reread the paragraph, &quot;I have</l>
					<l>always heard that there were a great many very gross</l>
					<l>mistakes in this book. Indeed every one says it is very</l>
					<l>carelessly done.&quot; This was so extravagant that it</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='66'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>composed the good parson at once, and he</l>
					<l>said: Oh, never mind, we won&apos;t talk any more</l>
					<l>about it then, and he went out leaving the fair</l>
					<l>Rosamond to look upon her picture in the Book of</l>
					<l>Beauty - the only consolation that this poor, forlorn,</l>
					<l>shattered woman seems to have left. Not even</l>
					<l>an Italian superanuated beauty can be more</l>
					<l>utterly without resources than this Englishwoman,</l>
					<l>from whom every trace of her youthful charms</l>
					<l>has fled / About five o&apos;clock the excitement of the populace</l>
					<l>to know what was doing in the municipio became very</l>
					<l>great, stones began to fly, the police armed itself and tried</l>
					<l>to disperse the crowd with naked swords, word was sent to</l>
					<l>the syndic who was presiding at the meeting, that the cit-</l>
					<l>-izens and the government were likely to come in violent</l>
					<l>collision, A deputation was sent out to the people to beg</l>
					<l>them to be quiet, and by degrees they dispersed. They</l>
					<l>assembled again in the evening however, and when our</l>
					<l>servants came in about nine they reported that all the</l>
					<l>principal streets and squares were thronged, that</l>
					<l>demonstrations were being made against the offices</l>
					<l>of some of the government journals, and that even</l>
					<l>the Royal Arms had been torn down from the questura</l>
					<l>and knocked to pieces to the cry of <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Abbasso il Re</hi>!</l>
					<l>This sounds serious but everything is so comparatively</l>
					<l>quiet in our Via d&apos;Angennes that it is hard to believe</l>
					<l>the disturbance will amount to anything.</l>
					<l>Thursday 22<hi rend='superscript:true;'>nd</hi></l>
					<l>We retired early last night but were</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='67'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>scarcely in bed before the sound of drums, increased</l>
					<l>shouting and the rapid hurrying of feet even through our</l>
					<l>quiet street, brought us to our windows. A few scattering</l>
					<l>soldiers of the Home Guard, here and there a gend&apos;arme</l>
					<l>and a considerable number of citizens, mostly well</l>
					<l>-dressed and quiet looking, were passing down towards</l>
					<l>the Vittorio Emanuele. Besides these there were a few</l>
					<l>small groups of rough-looking characters within sight, and </l>
					<l>among these, under our own windows one very ugly</l>
					<l>-looking fellow with an immense club, who was pointing</l>
					<l>at the door of one of the government offices opposite our house.</l>
					<l>He was evidently trying to induce his comrades to join him</l>
					<l>in an attempt to batter in the door, but two gens d&apos;arme</l>
					<l>were standing there and before they could get courage to</l>
					<l>make the attack, a little handful of soldiers came up</l>
					<l>and dispersed them. The noise and shouting from a</l>
					<l>distance however lasted till near midnight, but it was</l>
					<l>so moderate compared with what I have often heard</l>
					<l>in our own cities without the least harm being done that</l>
					<l>I went to sleep quietly, without even telling Mr Marsh that</l>
					<l>I almost fancied I had heard firing, it seemed to me</l>
					<l>so improbable that anything so serious could take place</l>
					<l>without more commotion. This morning however we</l>
					<l>learn to our astonishment and grief that many persons</l>
					<l>were killed and wounded - that the gendarmeria fired</l>
					<l>on the populace, (some say at the order of Peruzzi,) that</l>
					<l>the Home Guards then attacked the gendarmeria, arrested</l>
					<l>many, and wounded others. A partial barricade</l>
					<l>was thrown up in the Piazza San Carlo, an attempt was</l>
					<l>made to call out all the citizens to arms but about midnight</l>
					<l>quiet was restored. This morning the Piazze are filled</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='68'/>
			<p>
				<lg>
					<l>with soldiers, and no doubt the government is</l>
					<l>summoning others by telegraph as fast as possible.</l>
					<l>There is a strong suspicion that the King has been</l>
					<l>urged by the French Emperor and by some of his min-</l>
					<l>-ister to a <hi rend='underlined:true;'>colpo di Stato</hi>. The <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Diritto</hi> speaks of it as</l>
					<l>possible and says: <hi rend='underlined:true;'>Per Dio! siamo qui</hi>? I hope</l>
					<l>better things of Victor Emmanuel, but why is he not</l>
					<l>here in a time like this! They say he is at the Veneria,</l>
					<l>but the place of a King is in his capital at such a moment.</l>
					<l>It is impossible not to admit that even in Piedmont,</l>
					<l>the royal home of such a long line of ancestors, the King</l>
					<l>has lost the respect of his subjects by the selfish indulgence</l>
					<l>of his personal tastes and vices when he should have been</l>
					<l>devoting all his energies to building up his new Kingdom.</l>
					<l>A brave and a loyal man they believe him still, but</l>
					<l>the last adjective will certainly be dropped from his name if</l>
					<l>he follows the counsels of the false Frenchman much</l>
					<l>further, and the <hi rend='underlined:true;'>galantuomo</hi> will be sunk forever.</l>
					<l>The doings of the municipio yesterday were interesting</l>
					<l>in some respects, Rorà said some very happy things, among</l>
					<l>others, that the first notice he had of the intended removal</l>
					<l>of the government to Florence was a proposal to indemnify</l>
					<l>Turin by a pecuniary compensation, and that to this he</l>
					<l>had replied - &apos;If the removal is for the good of Italy Turin</l>
					<l>thinks too nobly to ask for pay - if it is only a political intrigue</l>
					<l>she thinks too nobly to sell herself&apos;.</l>
					<l>A spirited resolution opposing the removal in case</l>
					<l>it was to be considered as a renunciation of Rome was</l>
					<l>unanimously adopted, (Menabrea having first left the council,</l>
					<l><hi rend='underlined:true;'>verde come un morto</hi>, as the Gazzetta del Popolo says) with the exception</l>
					<l>of the vote of Prospero Balbo, who went against it because</l>
					<l>as he said, he was a <hi rend='underlined:true;'>catolico</hi>. And this is a son of Cesare Balbo!</l>
				</lg>
			</p>
			<pb n='69'/>
		</body>
	</text>
</TEI>
