On March 4, Morse, with four companions, started from Rome on the seemingly perilous journey to Florence. They passed through the lines of both armies, but, contrary to their expectations, they were most courteously treated by the officers on both sides. It is true that they learned afterwards that they came near being arrested at Civita Castellana, where the Papal army was assembled in force, for—"When we took leave of the Marquis at Terni he told us that it was well we left Civita Castellana as we did, for an order for our arrest was making out, and in a few minutes more we should not have been allowed to leave the place. Indeed, when I think of the case, it was a surprising thing that we were allowed to go into all parts of the place, to see their position, to count their men and know their strength, and then to immediately pass over to their enemy and to give him, if we chose, all the information that any spy could have given."
It is not within the province of this work to deal at length with the political movements of the times. As we have seen, Morse was fortunate in avoiding danger, and we learn from history that this revolt, which threatened at one time to become very serious, was eventually suppressed by the Papal arms aided by the Austrians.
Having passed safely through the zone of danger, they travelled on, and, on March 9:—
"At half-past three the beautiful city was seen to our left reposing in sunshine in the wide vale of the Arno. The Duomo and the Campanile were the most conspicuous objects. At half-past four we entered Florence and obtained rooms at the Leone Bianco in the Via Vigna Nuova.
"March 10. We found to-day, to our great discomfiture, that we are allowed by the police to stay but three days in the city. No entreaties through our consul, nor offers of guaranty on his part, availed to soften towards us the rigor of the decree, which they say applies to all foreigners. I have written to our consul at Leghorn to petition the Government for our stay, as Mr. Ombrosi, the United States Consul here, is not accredited by the Government."
He must have succeeded in obtaining permission to remain, although the fact is not noted in the journal, for the next entry is on April 11, and finds him still in Florence. It begins: "Various engagements preventing my entering regularly in my journal every day's events as they occurred, I have been compelled to make a gap, which I fill up from recollection."
Before following him further, however, I shall quote from a letter written to his brothers on April 15, but referring to events which happened some time before:—
"We have recently heard of the disasters of the Poles. What noble people; how deserving of their freedom. I must tell you of an interesting circumstance that occurred to me in relation to Poland. It was in the latter part of June of last year, just as I was completing my arrangements for my journey to Naples, that I was tempted by one of those splendid moonlight evenings, so common in Italy, to visit once more the ruins of the Coliseum. I had frequently been to the Coliseum in company, but now I had the curiosity to go alone—I wished to enjoy, if possible, its solitude and its solemn grandeur unannoyed by the presence of any one.
"It was eleven o'clock when I left my lodgings and no one was walking at that hour in the solitary streets of Rome. From the Corso to the Forum all was as still as in a deserted city. The ruins of the Forum, the temples and pillars, the Arch of Titus and the gigantic arcade of the Temple of Peace, seemed to sleep in the gravelike stillness of the air. The only sound that reached my ears was that of my own footsteps. I slowly proceeded, stopping occasionally, and listening and enjoying the profound repose and the solemn, pure light, so suited to the ruined magnificence around me. As I approached the Coliseum the shriek of an owl and the answering echo broke the stillness for a moment, and all was still again.
"I reached the entrance, before which paced a lonely sentinel, his arms flashing in the moonbeams. He abruptly stopped me and told me I could not enter. I asked him why. He replied that his orders were to let no one pass. I told him I knew better, that he had no such orders, that he was placed there to protect visitors, and not to prevent their entrance, and that I should pass. Finding me resolute (for I knew by experience his motive was merely to extort money), he softened in his tone, and wished me to wait until he could speak to the sergeant of the guard. To this I assented, and, while he was gone, a party of gentlemen approached also to the entrance. One of them, having heard the discourse between the sentinel and myself, addressed me. Perceiving that he was a foreigner, I asked him if he spoke English. He replied with a slight accent, 'Yes, a little. You are an Englishman, sir?' 'No,' I replied, 'I am an American from the United States.' 'Indeed,' said he, 'that is much better'; and, extending his hand, he shook me cordially by the hand, adding, 'I have a great respect for your country and I know many of your countrymen.' He then mentioned Dr. Jarvis and Mr. Cooper, the novelist, the latter of whom he said was held in the greatest estimation in Europe, and nowhere more so than in his country, Poland, where his works were more sought after than those of Scott, and his mind was esteemed of an equal if not of a superior cast.