etween Garibaldi
and the French commander. On the first occasion I was sent to Rome with
despatches from Lord Palmerston to be delivered (so said my orders) into
the Pope's own hands.

On my arrival at Rome I went straight to the Quirinal and asked to see
Cardinal Antonelli. When I informed him of my instructions, he said at
once, 'You may give your despatches to me; you cannot expect to see His
Holiness.' 'No, sir; to the Pope I will give my despatches, or take them
back again,' and from this decision no persuasions or threats would move
me. Finding me obstinate the Cardinal at last took me with him into a
room where the Pope was sitting. His Holiness seemed in a great state of
anxiety, but was most kind and condescending. He gave me his hand to
kiss, and congratulated me on having been so firm in obeying orders in
relation to my despatches. I afterwards found that these despatches
influenced very much the important step taken by Pio Nono a few days
afterwards.

Subsequently I several times conveyed communications between General
Garibaldi and General Oudinot. The former had most pluckily taken
possession of an important position inside the walls of Rome, and it was
a hard piece of work to dislodge him.

I used to gallop in between General Oudinot's camp and Garibaldi's
headquarters, having on my arm a red scarf for a sign that I was not a
belligerent. My scarf was not much use, however, as I was generally
fired at all the time that I was passing the space between the French
camp and Garibaldi's headquarters in Rome.

I was amused by the audacity with which Garibaldi resisted the French
army. I fancy he wanted to delay matters so that the Pope should be
induced to take the ill-advised step of leaving Rome, and in this the
republican general succeeded. What went on in Rome, the way in which the
Pope escaped, &c., I am not able to relate. All I know is that one fine
morning a simple carriage arrived from Rome at Civita Vecchia, bringing
a portly individual enveloped in the large cloak of an English coachman,
and another man in ordinary apparel. They strolled down to the place of
embarkation, and went quietly on board, not (as was expected) the
English man-of-war, but a French vessel-of-war which was lying with her
steam up.

This vessel then left the harbour, almost unnoticed, and it was not for
hours afterwards that we heard that His Holiness Pius IX. was the
humble-looking person who had embarked before our eyes,