ermined to adopt energetic means. It
caused the dwelling of the duchess to be surrounded by soldiers, while
a papal office presented himself before Hortense, and announced that he
had received orders to remove Prince Louis from the city at once, and to
conduct him without the papal territory.
The fear of approaching evil caused the government to forget the respect
due to nobility in misfortune and the emperor's nephew was turned out of
the city like a criminal!
Hortense received this intelligence almost with joy. Far from Rome, it
seemed to her that he would be safer from the revolution, whose approach
she so much dreaded; and it therefore afforded her great satisfaction to
send the prince to Florence, to his father, believing that he would
there be shielded from the dangerous political calumnies that threatened
him in Rome. She therefore permitted him to depart; and how could she
have prevented his departure--she, the lone, powerless woman, to whom
not even the French ambassador would have accorded protection! No one
interceded for her--no one protested against the violent and brutal
course pursued toward Louis Napoleon--no one, except the Russian
ambassador.
The Emperor of Russia was the only one of all the sovereigns of Europe
who felt himself strong enough not to ignore the name of Napoleon, and
the consideration due to the family of a hero and of an emperor.
The Emperor of Russia had, therefore, never refused his protection and
assistance to the Bonapartes, and his ambassador was now the only one
who protested against the violent course taken by the Roman government.
The revolution at last broke forth. Italy arose as France had done,
resolved to throw off the yoke of tyranny and oppression, and be free!
The storm first broke out in Modena. The duke saw himself compelled to
fly, and a provisional government under General Menotti placed itself in
his stead. But, while this was taking place in Modena, the populace of
Rome was holding high festival in honor of the newly-chosen Pope Gregory
XVI., who had just taken his seat in the chair of the deceased Pope Pius
VIII., and these festivities, and the Carnival, seemed to occupy the
undivided attention of the Romans; under the laughing mask of these
rejoicings the revolution hid its grave and threatening visage, and it
was not until _mardi-gras_ that it laid this mask aside and showed its
true countenance.
The people had been accustomed to throw confectionery a
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