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which had been courageously and energetically repelled by the besieged, succeeded in making a breach in the walls; but when they mounted to storm the opening, they found another fortified line within-the old wall of Aurelian-which impeded their progress. A fresh breach was attempted, and speedily effected, and in a few more hours, danger and fatigue forgotten, the French army entered Rome in triumph.

Garibaldi, with three thousand of his followers, had already quitted the city, and turned his steps towards the little republic of San Marino, an independent town, whose liberty, too puny to excite jealousy, has never been assailed; and in the very heart of the Papal States the petty republic has continued free. Here his band dispersed, unable to make head, unaided and alone, against the enemies that menaced him on every side; and Garibaldi embarked for Venice, but was driven back by a storm, and compelled to land again on the Roman coast. Here his wife, a young and beautiful woman, who had followed him through all the dangers of his bold and adventurous career, died from the effects of exposure and fatigue in a solitary forest, beneath whose shade she was interred. Garibaldi then effected his escape to Piedmont, where he was arrested, but soon afterwards released; and he finally retired to America. After the entrance of the French army, the republican government of Rome disappeared, and the Assembly was heard of no more. The pontifical flag was again displayed from the tower of St. Angelo, and saluted by a hundred guns, amidst the acclamations of the army, and of the people who had so lately hailed the republic with equal joy; and a deputation was sent to Pius IX., bearing the keys of Rome. Thus ended the famous siege, which will deserve a place in history, from the undoubted gallantry that was there displayed by a people who have been long accused of cowardice, because demoralised by slavery, and because, untrained to manly exertion or military daring, they have proved unequal to contend with disciplined armies and powerful assailants. And on this occasion the French well justified the boast by which they would place themselves at the head of the civilisation of the times, from the considerate forbearance with which they deliberately exposed their own army to danger and suffering, in order to save from destruction the worldhonoured relics of the Eternal City.

But injury and devastation had been extensively inflicted during the ascendancy of the revolutionary party. Valuable archives had been burnt, churches of unequalled beauty had been converted into barracks, and walls, whose paintings have been the boast of ages, were defaced, to make room for the mangers of the cavalry horses. Church bells, which the great sculptors modelled, had been melted down for cannon; works of art, that genius can reproduce no more, were sold, robbed, or destroyed; and finally, the State was in a condition of total bankruptcy, and the people were reduced to the last extreme of distress and misery.

When the Italian capital had fallen, no hope remained for her sister cities. Yet Venice still held out. Famine, cholera-and, more dreaded than all-the armies of the hated oppressor, had hitherto failed to subdue her resolution, or to vanquish her courage and constancy. It was only when Hungary was subdued-when the struggle for liberty throughout Europe was crushed-when Rome had fallen, and Italy was again compelled to cower beneath the yoke, that Venice, last of all, hopeless of

succour, and unable longer to endure her protracted sufferings, was forced to yield, but not without having evinced a spirit and courage worthy of her former glory.

It has been already noticed that the earliest act of the Neapolitan government, after the victory which it obtained over the revolutionists on the 15th of May, was to recal its troops from the war of independence. Great preparations now commenced, in order to complete the victory obtained at home by the reduction of Sicily. The only fortress of that island that still remained in the hands of the king was the citadel of Messina a strongly fortified place, which had successfully resisted every attack; and its commandant, General Pronio, had signed an armistice with the authorities of the popular party who governed the town. Prince Filangieri was appointed to the command of the army destined to reconquer Sicily. He was an efficient officer of some reputation, and having assembled an army at Reggio, he embarked for Messina.

That city prepared for a vigorous defence, and instantly summoned the national guard throughout Sicily to march to her assistance. Barricades were raised in every street-the roads leading to the city were undermined, to prevent the approach of the enemy-and every means was taken to strengthen the defences of the town, whilst at the same time they called upon Palermo to aid them in their resistance. Large bodies of troops, as well as of the national guard, poured in from every quarter of the island to support the Messinians; but General Pronio, from the citadel, destroyed the defences of the town as fast as they were raised up. On the 6th of September, Filangieri commenced his attack upon a body of Sicilians concentrated at the village of Contessa to oppose him. He met with a desperate resistance; but at length gained possession of the redoubts, turned their own cannon against the Sicilians, and reached the gates of Messina.

The capture of the ill-fated city is one of the memorable events of the war; and the most determined enemies of the cause for which the brave Sicilians shed their blood have been compelled to pay a just homage to the heroism of the unequal contest. Exposed on one side to the destructive fire of the citadel, and assailed, on the other, by the attacks of the assaulting army, the town was bombarded for fourteen hours; and it was calculated that sixteen thousand projectiles were flung into its precincts on that day. When the gate was carried by storm, the resistance in the streets was so terrible, that each house, each wall, each gun was fought for, and only won when its defenders lay dead within and around. The carnage lasted for twenty-nine hours; and the brave defenders of their country's freedom who still survived, were overpowered only when their city was reduced almost to ashes, and their streets rendered impassable by the bodies of the slain. The English and French admirals interposed, in the name of humanity, to prevent the slaughter of the unhappy citizens; and an armistice was then agreed to by the Neapolitan commander, during the continuance of which peace was to be treated of, with the mediation of England. But the terms offered by the Neapolitan government were rejected by the Sicilians, and the war was renewed on the 29th of March.

Filangieri then advanced towards Palermo, which, in its turn, prepared to repel the royal forces. The command of the Sicilian troops was entrusted to a Pole, named Mieroslawsky. Catana lay upon the road;

but though the popular forces proved unable to cope with the regular troops in the open field, it was only after several desperate encounters, in which great loss was sustained on both sides, that the royal commander approached the last-named city. Five miles from Catana, a stronglyfortified position obstructed the advance of the assailants, and the first Neapolitan regiment that came up to the attack was almost destroyed by the fire of the redoubt. It was after a fierce resistance, and immense loss to the Neapolitans, that Mieroslawsky commenced his retreat towards Catana. Every step of the five intervening miles was fought for, and defended with the desperate determination which civil strife alone calls forth. A murderous fire was poured down from every house and window along the road; mines exploded beneath the feet of the Neapolitans; barricades had to be stormed at every turning of the road; from behind every wall death mowed down the ranks of the assailants.

At length Catana was reached, and its gates forced open. The first barricade within, defended by six heavy guns, was carried by the Neapolitans; but the regiment that obtained this success was exposed to a destructive fire from the windows, the balconies, and the roofs of the houses, and the few survivors were compelled to retreat. Fresh troops soon came up; but every street offered the same deadly resistance, and it was only house by house, as the defenders of Catana were destroyed by the increasing numbers of the enemy, that the royal troops were enabled to advance across the town, encumbered with its slaughtered inhabitants.

Unhappily a ball wounded the Sicilian general in the throat, and he fell insensible into the arms of his aide-de-camp. Dismay then spread universally amongst his troops, and discouragement preceded defeat. Catana surrendered, after a resistance scarcely less memorable than that

of Messina.

Appalled by the cruel fate of these unfortunate cities, Syracuse attempted no defence, and the smaller towns opened their gates to the conquerors; whilst some of the country places proved the extremity of their dread by receiving the Neapolitan army with acclamations. At Palermo, confusion and terror paralysed the councils of the popular party. The Chambers voted an act of submission to the king, and the provisional government sought safety in flight. The municipality then assumed the authority; but three days of severe contest without the walls still arrested the

progress of the royal army. Finally, the Sicilians were defeated; and Filangieri entered Palermo in triumph on the 15th of May, 1849, the anniversary of the king's victory at Naples the preceding year. The Neapolitan fleet at the same time took possession of the harbour, and Sicily was once more subdued.

Whilst the siege of Rome was in progress, the Pope had accepted the invitation of the King of Naples; and leaving Gaeta, he established himself at Portici, in the neighbourhood of the capital. Here he was received with great splendour, lodged in one of the royal palaces, and hailed with enthusiastic devotion by the people.

After the dissolution of the Representative Chamber, which followed the king's triumph on the 15th of May, another Assembly had been convened at Naples on the 1st of July; but this parliament having proved also tumultuous and unmanageable, was dissolved, after a session of two months. Some riots had followed the dissolution; and Bozzeli was removed from the office of minister of the interior upon the pretence that

he had countenanced the police in distributing arms secretly amongst the people, but probably in anticipation of the abolition of the last remnant of the constitution. A third Chamber was called, and again dismissed, in March, 1849; and, in spite of the eloquent appeals of Bozzelli, the last shadow of the charter then disappeared before the restored power of the monarchy.

In the month of April, 1850, the Pope took a warm farewell of Naples, where he had been so hospitably entertained, and after being escorted to the frontier by the king, Pius was received again into his state with every demonstration of public respect and attachment. The French general, Baraguay d'Hilliers, rode beside his carriage as he passed through the streets of Rome, which were adorned with flowers and strewed with branches; whilst the French troops, amidst whose kneeling ranks the procession passed, rendered his return to the ancient capital of the papacy a military triumph.

In spite of past discontent and future fears, the rural populationpious and superstitious-regarded the presence of the Sovereign Pontiff amongst them as a prescriptive privilege of their country, and Rome felt all the importance which she derived from being recognised once more as the metropolis of Catholic Christendom. The Pope's entrance into the church of St. Peter, surrounded by the cardinals, the corps diplomatic, the public functionaries of the city, and the chiefs of the army, amidst the acclamations of the populace, the guns of the fortress, and the rejoicings of the whole population, rendered his return a real ovation, of which the gladness might have remained deeply graven on the hearts of a people that had suffered so much, if greater wisdom and moderation had followed the restoration of the papal authority.


OURS had been wondrous days, when truths sublime
Had risen on the world, and human skill,
Schooled in an interval of peaceful time,
Had learnt man's fondest visions to fulfil,
And brought an age millennial-until
The horrid din and battle rage of war,

With shouts that all but drown the orphan's wail,
Smote on the ear with strange, unwelcome jar,
And told that terror must awhile prevail;

Yet through the storm, thy name, fair Nightingale,
Gleams like the bow that riseth on the cloud.

For there is hope in thy unselfish love,

As once the sacred leaf of olive, showed
A world's bright hopes, entrusted to a dove.


What! Irving? thrice welcome, warm heart and fine brain!

And the heart is still warm, and the brain still fine, in this new issue of their joint-stock composition. The warm heart and the fine brain went into partnership, and wrote in good fellowship together, in the days of the Sketch-Book and Salmagundi; and they found it answer, and continue each the other's true yoke-fellow (ovçuyos yunotos) to this hour. In this harmony of the feeling and thinking powers, in this concert of the shrewd with the genial, lies much of the wide popularity, the merited success, past (but not past by), and present (with a decent lease yet to run), of kindly, cheery, gossiping, twinkling-eyed, Geoffrey Crayon, Gent.

Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., is redivivus here, not idem in alio, not by transmigration of spirit into another bodily presence, but himself in propriâ persona. He gives us what are apparently relict odds and ends which missed insertion in the original Sketch-Book. Thus we have reminiscences of Paris as it was thirty years since. The Parisian hotelcompared to a street set on end-the grand staircase being the highway and every floor or apartment a separate habitation-with its microcosmic gradations of tenantry, from the aristocracy of the premier floor to the attic regions of petty tailors, clerks, and needlewomen-every odd nook and corner between these polar opposites, de haut en bas, being duly fitted up as a joli petit appartement à garçon, which Geoffrey translates, "some little dark inconvenient nestling-place for a poor devil of a bachelor." The restored émigré of the old régime in sky-blue coat, powdered locks, and pigtail-followed at heels by a little dog, which trips sometimes on four legs, sometimes on three, and looks as if his leather small-clothes were too tight for him. The Englishman at Paris: promenading daily with a buxom daughter on each arm; they smiling on all the world, while his mouth is drawn down at each corner like a mastiff's, with internal growling at everything about him; they almost overshadowing papa with feathers, flowers, and French bonnets (ah, Geoffrey! bonnets too may take up their parable and say, specially in Paris-tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis), while papa adheres rigidly to English fashion in dress, and trudges about in long gaiters and broad-brimmed hat. (Eheu fugaces, goodman Geoffrey,—even such sturdy conservatives as those gaiters and hats may now swell the chorus of the bonnets—or strike 66 up, on their own hook," a more plaintive sic transit gloria mundi-for a glory, worldly enough, had long gaiters and broad-brimmed hats, when George the Third was king.) Then we have a picture of the Tuileries, as it was, and for a pendant, Windsor Castle, not as it is ;—a sketch of the field of Waterloo, when the thoughtless whistle of the peasant floated on the air, instead of the trumpet's clangour, and the team slowly laboured up the hill-side once shaken by the hoofs of rushing squadrons, and wide fields of corn waved peacefully over the

Chronicles of Wolfert's Roost, and Other Papers. By Washington Irving. Author's Edition. Edinburgh: Constable. 1855.

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