uld tolerate. He no longer insisted on
occupying Rome, but would content himself with good positions in the
country. Oudinot protested that the Plenipotentiary had "exceeded his
powers,"--that he should not obey,--that the armistice was at an end,
and he should attack Rome on Monday. It was then Friday. He proposed
to leave these two days for the few foreigners that remained to
get out of town. M. Lesseps went off to Paris, in great seeming
indignation, to get _his_ treaty ratified. Of course we could not
hear from him for eight or ten days. Meanwhile, the _honorable_ chief,
alike in all his conduct, attacked on Sunday instead of Monday. The
attack began before sunrise, and lasted all day. I saw it from my
window, which, though distant, commands the gate of St. Pancrazio. Why
the whole force was bent on that part, I do not know. If they could
take it, the town would be cannonaded, and the barricades useless; but
it is the same with the Pincian Gate. Small-parties made feints in two
other directions, but they were at once repelled. The French fought
with great bravery, and this time it is said with beautiful skill and
order, sheltering themselves in their advance by movable barricades.
The Italians fought like lions, and no inch of ground was gained by
the assailants. The loss of the French is said to be very great: it
could not be otherwise. Six or seven hundred Italians are dead or
wounded. Among them are many officers, those of Garibaldi especially,
who are much exposed by their daring bravery, and whose red tunic
makes them the natural mark of the enemy. It seems to me great folly
to wear such a dress amid the dark uniforms; but Garibaldi has always
done it. He has now been wounded twice here and seventeen times in
Ancona.

All this week I have been much at the hospitals where are these noble
sufferers. They are full of enthusiasm; this time was no treason, no
Vicenza, no Novara, no Milan. They had not been given up by wicked
chiefs at the moment they were shedding their blood, and they had
conquered. All were only anxious to get out again and be at their
posts. They seemed to feel that those who died so gloriously were
fortunate; perhaps they were, for if Rome is obliged to yield,--and
how can she stand always unaided against the four powers?--where shall
these noble youths fly? They are the flower of the Italian youth;
especially among the Lombards are some of the finest young men I have
ever seen. If Rome falls,