The object of the present meeting was for the Civic Guard and troops of the line to give pledges of sympathy preparatory to going to the Quirinal to demand a change of ministry and of measures.  The flag of the Union was placed in front of the obelisk; all present saluted it; some officials made addresses; the trumpets sounded, and all moved toward the Quirinal.

Nothing could be gentler than the disposition of those composing the crowd.  They were resolved to be played with no longer, but no threat was uttered or thought.  They believed that the court would be convinced by the fate of Rossi that the retrograde movement it had attempted was impracticable.  They knew the retrograde party were panic-struck, and hoped to use the occasion to free the Pope from its meshes.  All felt that Pius IX. had fallen irrevocably from his high place as the friend of progress and father of Italy; but still he was personally beloved, and still his name, so often shouted in hope and joy, had not quite lost its prestige.

I returned to the house, which is very near the Quirinal.  On one side I could see the palace and gardens of the Pope, on the other the Piazza Barberini and street of the Four Fountains.  Presently I saw the carriage of Prince Barberini drive hurriedly into his court-yard gate, the footman signing to close it, a discharge of fire-arms was heard, and the drums of the Civic Guard beat to arms.

The Padrona ran up and down, crying with every round of shot, “Jesu Maria, they are killing the Pope!  O poor Holy Father!—­Tito, Tito,” (out of the window to her husband,) “what is the matter?”

The lord of creation disdained to reply.

“O Signora! pray, pray, ask Tito what is the matter?”

I did so.

“I don’t know, Signora; nobody knows.”

“Why don’t you go on the Mount and see?”

“It would be an imprudence, Signora; nobody will go.”

I was just thinking to go myself, when I saw a poor man borne by, badly wounded, and heard that the Swiss were firing on the people.  Their doing so was the cause of whatever violence there was, and it was not much.

The people had assembled, as usual, at the Quirinal, only with more form and solemnity than usual.  They had taken with them several of the Chamber of Deputies, and they sent an embassy, headed by Galetti, who had been in the late ministry, to state their wishes.  They received a peremptory negative.  They then insisted on seeing the Pope, and pressed on the palace.  The Swiss became alarmed, and fired from the windows and from the roof.  They did this, it is said, without orders; but who could, at the time, suppose that?  If it had been planned to exasperate the people to blood, what more could have been done?  As it was, very little was shed; but the Pope, no doubt, felt great panic.  He heard the report of fire-arms,—­heard that they tried to burn a door of the palace.  I would lay my life that he could have shown himself without the slightest danger; nay, that the habitual respect for his presence would have prevailed, and hushed all tumult.  He did not think so, and, to still it, once more degraded himself and injured his people, by making promises he did not mean to keep.