en by the
Romans, who, according to Margaret's account, remained quite cool and
composed, saying only: "The Pope, the cardinals, the princes are gone,
and Rome is perfectly tranquil. One does not miss anything, except that
there are not so many rich carriages and liveries."

In February Margaret chronicles the opening of the Constitutional
Assembly, which was heralded by a fine procession, with much display of
banners. In this, Prince Canino, a nephew of Napoleon, walked side by
side with Garibaldi, both having been chosen deputies. Margaret saw this
from a balcony in the Piazza di Venezia, whose stern old palace "seemed
to frown, as the bands each, in passing, struck up the _Marseillaise_."
On February 9th the bells were rung in honor of the formation of a Roman
Republic. The next day Margaret went forth early, to observe the face of
Rome. She saw the procession of deputies mount the Campidoglio
(Capitol), with the Guardia Civica for their escort. Here was
promulgated the decree announcing the formation of the Republic, and
guaranteeing to the Pope the undisturbed exercise of his spiritual
power.

The Grand Duke of Tuscany now fled, smiling assent to liberal principles
as he entered his carriage to depart. The King of Sardinia was naturally
filled with alarm. "It makes no difference," says Margaret. "He and his
minister, Gioberti, must go, unless foreign intervention should impede
the liberal movement. In this case, the question is, what will France
do? Will she basely forfeit every pledge and every duty, to say nothing
of her true interest?" Alas! France was already sold to the counterfeit
greatness of a name, and was pledged to a course irrational and vulgar
beyond any that she had yet followed. The Roman Republic, born of high
hope and courage, had but few days to live, and those days were full of
woe.

Margaret had so made the life of Rome her own at this period, that we
have found it impossible to describe the one without recounting
something of the other. Her intense interest in public affairs could
not, however, wean her thoughts from the little babe left at Rieti.
Going thither in December, she passed a week with her darling, but was
forced after this to remain three months in Rome without seeing him.
Here she lay awake whole nights, contriving how she might end this
painful separation; but circumstances were too strong for her, and the
object so dearly wished for could not be compassed.

In March she visi