le. The house is in the Prato, very
near the gate the king was to enter. On each side of it stages were
raised like steps in an amphitheatre, which were densely crowded,
every window decorated with gaily-coloured hangings and the Italian
flag; the streets were lined with "guardie civiche," and bands of
music played from time to time. The people shouted "Evviva!" every
time a gun was fired. In the midst of this joy, there appeared what
resembled a funeral procession--about a hundred emigrants following
the Venetian, Roman, and Neapolitan colours, all hung with black
crape; they were warmly applauded, and many people shed tears. They
went to the railway station just without the gate to meet the King,
and when they hailed him as "_Re d'Italia!_" he was much affected.
At last he appeared riding a fine English horse, Prince Carignan on
one hand and Baron Ricasoli on his left, followed by a numerous
"_troupe doree_" of generals and of his suite in gay uniforms and
well mounted. The King rides well; so the effect was extremely
brilliant. Then followed several carriages; in the first were Count
Cavour, Buoncompagni, and the Marchese Bartolommei. You cannot form
the slightest idea of the excitement; it was a burst of enthusiasm,
and the reception of Cavour was as warm. We threw a perfect shower
of flowers over him, which the Marchesa had provided for the
occasion; and her youngest son Cino, a nice lad, went himself to
present his bouquet to the King, who seemed quite pleased with the
boy. I felt so much for Madame de Lajatico herself.... I said to her
how kind I thought it in her to open her house; she burst into
tears, and said, though she was in deep affliction, she could not be
so selfish as not offer her friends the best position in Florence
for seeing what to many of them was the most important event in
their lives, as it was to her even in her grief. The true Italian
taste appeared to perfection in every street through which the
procession passed to the Duomo, and thence to the Palazzo Pitti.
Those who saw it declare nothing could surpass the splendour of the
cathedral when illuminated; but that we could not see, nor did we
see the procession again; it was impossible to penetrate the crowd.
They say there are 40,000 strangers in Florence.... I was much too
tired to go out again to see th