* * * * * The romantic conquest of Naples and Sicily, by General Garibaldi in 1860, has already melted into the past and become an almost distant event in European history. It was said at the time that if Francis II. had possessed a particle of the military courage of his Queen, it would have been easy for him with his trained battalions to have captured or dispersed the handful of Garibaldian volunteers. When Bombino had taken refuge in Gaeta, the great stronghold of Southern Italy, he fancied himself secure from the attacks of the foe; but the Sardinian troops were soon battering the walls with long-range guns, and all the appliances necessary for a modern siege. Amongst the besieged, Queen Marie Sophie Amelie was the only leader who encouraged the soldiers to make a brave defence. Standing on the ramparts of Gaeta, she incited the Neapolitan troops to shed the last drop of their blood for the Bourbon cause. Doubtless there was much exaggeration in those marvellous anecdotes published in the newspapers of the time relating deeds of Amazonian valour performed by the Queen; but it is certain that she acted the part of King, while her cowardly husband hid away in the darkness and security of bomb-proof galleries. In December, 1860, and January, 1861, it was remarked by the troops of Cialdini that every morning, at a particular hour, the fire of the Neapolitan batteries slackened for a short time; re-commencing, however, with renewed vigour. They soon learned that the Queen, dressed in Calabrian costume, visited a particular battery (named after herself the "Queen's Battery") every morning, sometimes on horseback, but generally in a coach; and would assist in the firing of the heavy guns. The artillerymen were ready to sacrifice their lives in the service of their beautiful and courageous Queen, while they heartily despised the contemptible Francis. * * * * * The chief heroine of the last Polish insurrection (1862-3-4) was Madlle. Pustowjtoff, or, as some have written it, Pustovoydova, aide-de-camp and Adjutant to General Langievicz, the Dictator. When the ill-starred rebellion was at its height, cartes-de-visite of the heroine, in the costume of a Polish officer, were displayed in the shop-windows of the great European and American cities, side by side with all the public celebrities of the day. She was decidedly pretty, though rather childish looking: her features were good, and she had a profusion of fair hair.